School Teacher Poems - Poems about School Teacher

Because he had a teacher He came to school so proud Each new shoe he lay confidently on the ground Because she had a teacher Her hair looked oh so nice For picture day that year Her ponytail-precise Because they had a teacher They lay safe upon their bed Not a worry they will feel Inside their little head Because she had a teacher She learned...

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In what galaxy does a heart not learn lessons the hard way? It’s in the nature of all creatures. The school of life welcomes its students. Some will breeze on by and not learn much of anything. The ones that embark implicitly on that lush wild river of discovery will be amazed when they unleash their potential. Everyone is given the...

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Today again, I went to go teach, totally unprepared. And fearing the principal would come observe me had me so scared, I rambled through the room, floundering and fluttering. And then a student asked, "Mr J, why are you muttering? Do I sense maybe ~ you're just a little bit impaired?"...

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My Teacher Is The Light Of My Life Birds sing sweetly in the morning The sky is clear without clouds and blue My teacher came riding a bicycle Bring useful knowledge For our beloved ones My teacher gave me a role model Without tiredness or time The light of your lamp will always live Illuminates...

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Charles Green was eight years old, and his father was a great teacher. Yet, Charlie preferred playing to school; because he was a daydreamer. The Greens lived in the town of Ivoria, where dahlias nodded greeting; And Charlie frolicked with Sam and Scarlett, until sun came, bleeding. Samuel and Scarlett were his siblings. Both got good grades in school; Like...

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Read a book once Folded the corners To mark my progress. It was sort of a Wagon train read Long, torturous, A seemingly endless quest For an unknown destination Pictured only in the minds Of others Who Sadly Were only aggrandizing What they were told. The book I read Had been chosen for me By a deranged English teacher/football coach Before the era of the Concussion Protocol. The Book Report I wrote Received an “A” I...

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THE SUNDAY MORNING PLEA Sunbeams gently pierce my sleepy eyes, Waking me up, whispering, “Arise! Arise! Gather your tools, prepare your vision, The children await your joyful mission.” Ah, another day for learning’s delight, A Sunday of teaching, shining bright. Little ones I'll meet, with eager hearts, To guide and mend their wandering parts. First, I kneel in prayer, humbly I stay, Asking Him to...

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They know me, still, behind my aged teacher face. They wave to me in my car, running wildly home from school on a sunny afternoon. I smile and wave back, thinking, “my sons know me, still.” Caught by my discerning eye when hooking class, they make charging returns to school, backpacks rocking side to side. I protected them once. Defended them. Gave them self-respect, pride. I...

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Neither boquet of roses Nor a pack of chocolates Nor a hand letter Nor a congratulatory message Nor a hug or a shake hand Nor a hi or hello greeting But a bouquet of guava leaves That a former student gives To her teacher on Teacher's Day....

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incubator day children wait for eggs to hatch one chick pecks away teacher covers cage six chicks emerge overnight only one hold out this egg never cracks wise teacher takes it away quietly alone...

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Kindergarten was a scary word for me, Though I longed to go, I was kind of worried But, lo and behold, there was nothing to fear Because, when I entered the class… There came a smile, so sincere. She was tall with dark hair that rested high on her head, She wore glasses and required me to listen to her share Stories...

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As the yellow-orange sun slowly rises Memories of your class's fun flood my heart Thoughts run to your teaching and enterprises You brought those tiny guppies to our class A creative shiny diorama's great art Sunshiny person and dedicated lass You lifted us up when you said All...

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This is a true story Vegetable ! I could read this word. Vegetable ! Because of Mary Lou Redd, Reading Specialist Baltimore Public Schools I was age 10, reading--- Vegetable. Prior to, I added my own words to the printed page. My stories, not Mcgraw-Hill. Mary Lou made magic. Saving children from a lifetime of ignorance, shame and lies. Vegetable! Rememberring my...

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Waking up before the sun kisses Chirping of birds becomes brushed aside Putting glasses to see better With unpolished shoes I ride over With an old beg of mine Keeping some old books inside The rusted passage let me in I walk through a road edged with topiary as if golden hedges welcome me The old corridor embraces my stomping footsteps Holding a chalk to...

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In dynamic classrooms Amid inquiry and exploration with my mind racing, in casual attire or rolled-up sleeves, With my hands on experimental apparatus, questions,...

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