Teacher Graduation Poems | Examples
These Teacher Graduation poems are examples of Graduation poems about Teacher. These are the best examples of Graduation Teacher poems written by international poets.
I was going to become a teacher
I thought it was my calling
I was young and thought it best
to go to university straight out of high school
before I'd go to teachers' college
Well... things did not go as planned
for better or for worse, who knows
I got sidetracked ended up taking a job
education got shelved for longer than expected
So I worked and launched a modest career
No guidance maybe no brains ~ who knows
But in the end I realized the truth ~
if you don't choose, life chooses for you
Go for your dreams or risk living with regrets
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
She would do our heads in, but It’s not that I didn’t value her great teaching skills. Her strategies and patterns always stood out. The tool of teaching was used to best effective use by her, I can ensure you of that, in fact it was levels beyond the rest.a record, a memory that can’t be broken.
In years to come we will remember those days. Sometimes she would cry thinking we might all fail, other times she would laugh with us or at us. I suppose that’s all just part of life, but she did love our class From the core and heart, well that’s what I think.
We thank you for all your hard work and dedication, but in saying that, teaching us must have been so hard.
I want you to know that you will remain in our thoughts, as long as you promise to continue to do people’s heads in and always to stay sound
I am your teacher show me some respect,
I am a diplomatic person who knows tact.
AAA
I learned to type in Jr. High.
I learned to tap the keyboard.
One letter than another...
on and on.
AAA
AAA
AA Then... B
AAA
AAB
ABB
BBC
...
One day I came to class,
and we all sat right down as usual.
But to my amazement we were free.
We could do CCC, or DDD... Even ZZZ
My heart was lifted from the monotony
of the drills to lift my skills.
Yet in the end,
it was like magic,
my brain told me nothing,
and I told it just the same.
Regardless of our unspoken conversation...
my hands flew across the board,
as if they were made to dance, and prance,
in an orderly fashion.
I love my typing teacher,
for making me better,
than I was...
before I took the class.
A Pledge to Teachers
When it was time for me
To concentrate and learn
Through your skill and ability
To guide and to discern—
For wisdom was your desire
As teaching was your career
But the fact that you inspire
Is what I must revere
Lovers of wisdom born by you
Heirs to knowledge that we then become
My words— indeed, are both faithful and true
Within this poem, a—small anthem
A small anthem to try and acknowledge
A small—part of— what you do
As I now utter a pledge
To sincerely, thank you!
My students adore Google so much.
They take it for magic or Midas’ touch
I show them how it translates,
And beg to follow my dictates.
But alas! This falls on deaf ears,
And fails to conquer their inner fears.
If Google does all work for them,
Can Google act or think for them?
So funny follies, so many mistakes
In their names that Google makes.
What more than this can I really say?
What proof they need to stay away?
From Google’s machine translation
And turn to God’s infinite creation.
29/4/2021
The Desk
by Michael R. Burch
for Jeremy
There is a child I used to know
who sat, perhaps, at this same desk
where you sit now, and made a mess
of things sometimes. I wonder how
he learned at all ...
He saw T-Rexes down the hall
and dreamed of trains and cars and wrecks.
He dribbled phantom basketballs,
shot spitwads at his schoolmates’ necks.
He played with pasty Elmer’s glue
(and sometimes got the glue on you!).
He earned the nickname “teacher’s PEST.”
His mother had to come to school
because he broke the golden rule.
He dreaded each and every test.
But something happened in the fall?
he grew up big and straight and tall,
and now his desk is far too small;
so you can have it.
One thing, though?
one swirling autumn, one bright snow,
one gooey tube of Elmer’s glue ...
and you’ll outgrow this old desk, too.
Originally published by TALESetc
Keywords/Tags: Child, Children, Childhood, School, Desk, Student, Scholar, Teacher, Teacher's Pet, Pest, Golden Rule, Spitwads, Glue, Basketball, Nonsense, Light Verse, Humor
Eighteen
Beautiful day
May 1970
My high school graduation day
I could be a nurse mother or teacher
Our caps and gowns were red and gold
Small town Iowa kids
So excited
Eighteen
Written: 11-28-2019
Contest: Red-Letter Day Rictameter
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Syllables checked with: Howmanysyllables.com 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2
We weren't privy to Part I
(Just parents were invited)
But Part II was arranged so
No one extra would feel slighted.
The children came up to the stage
In pairs as every teacher
Announced their names and what
They'd like to be, a charming feature.
From astronaut to ninja,
Princess, baseball player, vet,
Even architect (our Henry),
Most will change their minds, I'd bet.
But you never know exactly what
The future holds in store.
Will Henry's blueprints be the ones
We've all been waiting for?
That crossed my mind and then the children
Sang a little tune
And somehow pre-school's over...
Just a little bit too soon.
"They are a little rambunctious, " Mr. Pete said. He was a small man, quite wee.
Mr. Dass rolled his eyes, giving me a better perspective, no soap in the sink.
"They have scared three big, bad male teachers off since September," Mr. Dass told me.
Both of their faces were almost burgundy red now, they tried hard, bright-eyed, and curiously pink.
"I would like to try it," I told them. "I'm not easily scared," I said with all of my masterful me.
I ended up teaching the drafting students for three years, we went through gobs of ink.
"This was the most difficult one credit hour class I ever took in my life," one of my charges told me.
Three years into it, and neither Mr. Pete or Mr. Dass had told me this, I gave the student a wink.
Silhouettes fade as summer draws near
Yearning for their presence in this barren room
Rippling sounds of one's laughter cause me to tear
Awakens this reverie like scent perfume
The vastness I never thought existed
Past the hallways where we've spent our youth
Smiles of the little ones thus recollected
Pictures from the bulletins show love and truth
Just as my heart, the red apple sits quietly
Treasuring the bond of our love so pure
The hugs, fights, celebration and anxieties
Carves the path to grow and mature
Oh darlings, it pains me to say goodbye
So please keep this chalk to remember me by.
High School days are in the past,
Your childhood bliss is gone.
Future blessings you'll unfold,
As time marches on.......
May each one that comes your way,
bring joy, success and love,
Blessed by the greatest teacher
Our Heavenly Father above....
Does the student know? Does the teacher know?
The lessons are many and days are few.
In the class, some are quick and some are slow.
Some will progress and some will make do.
People choose subjects without being sure.
They have no experience, only hope.
Teachers and students discuss and endure
problems and strategies to help them cope
with future events or recent mistakes.
Outside their campus, students use theory.
They use new knowledge to elaborate
and specialized language to query.
There is no way to measure their chances.
Even slow students will make advances.
I, a stranger here
in this unknown place
a swarm of new faces
moving at their own paces
In the wandering crowd
lost as i was
their came piercing
a ray of hope, blinding
an inspiration, a support
a guardian angel so sweet
brimming with love potion
spreading an aura of compassion
her sufferings hidden by a mask
of sweet smile that brighten my day
with love immense to share
and a heart that care
she extended her hand
prodding me to thrive
led me through the hurdles
paving way to success
my second mother
always close to my heart
shining with a brilliance
that can hush the stars.
© (14 Jan '15)
Dedicated to my lecturer Ms. Sonia Karkera
* Honorable mention in the contest 'How you make the stars hush' by Justin Bordner on 13 March 2015
Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook
Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.
Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.
Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.
Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.
Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.