Day Teacher Poems | Examples
These Day Teacher poems are examples of Teacher poems about Day. These are the best examples of Teacher Day poems written by international poets.
"The more in science we advance,
The more do we grow," you say;
Still, Nature's love, abundance
Forgive us all in every way.
She lessons us to endure
Just like the green grasses do;
We, humans, can't all ensure;
We fail to remain pure and true.
Time's supposed to take all away;
She teaches all how to accept;
Rise and fall, the night and the day
Pass on, as per the global concept.
I can't breathe, I run, I run
In the lap of Nature;
"There'll be the moon and the sun,"
Tells me the Great Teacher.
Life must, must have turns and bends;
Life gifts us melody;
My frail heart now comprehends
There must be threnody.
Teach them how to discern and learn,
Don’t leave them helpless to crash and burn.
Teaching them just content, they learn it your way.
Teach them the process of learning today,
You give them a lifetime of learning every day.
In chambers of the mind, we store each day,
Each lesson wrapped in wonder, fear, or joy.
What matters most will never fade away.
The smell of chalk, the light at morning's ray,
First bicycle, first book, beloved toy
In chambers of the mind, we store each day.
Not facts alone, but how they came to stay:
The teacher's smile, the moment of deploy
What matters most will never fade away.
Through neural corridors, memories replay,
Some bright as copper, some we can't employ.
In chambers of the mind, we store each day.
The brain selects what's worthy of display:
Love, laughter, fear, emotions that employ
What matters most will never fade away.
So when we teach, we must find ways to weigh
Not just content, but context to enjoy.
In chambers of the mind, we store each day,
What matters most will never fade away.
I can also say that, in my heart, I firmly believe... Since my youth, before bedtime, kneeling on my bare knees, I prayed to God. I prayed that way until I reached the age of 50. From that time onwards, I pray a bit different, but it doesn't matter, the essence is the same, and I pray to God every day. ~ Nikola Tesla
His father was a priest, believing
In the light, the love that completes us
Once they guessed
He’d be a child of darkness, depressed
Life would give him opportunities
To prove that he was blessed
Even the air seemed more alive
Knowing this soul who would indeed thrive
What he gave our world surely impressed
Within the circle’s quiet pulse lies a deeper truth:
when we shape our ways by kindness, trust takes root.
The classroom holds a sacred space,
where hearts find hope, and fears erase.
Not just a room with desk and board,
But a haven where the soul is restored.
A whisper heard, a glance that sees—
Each moment sown like sacred seeds.
Mistakes aren’t marks of shame or loss,
But stepping stones we gently cross.
With open hearts, we build, we mend,
And learn that truth is not the end.
In laughter shared, in silence deep,
We hold the dreams they dare to keep.
And every child, in their own way,
Is seen, is loved, is free to stay.
So may we teach not just with mind,
but with the grace that seeks to find
the spark in each unsure reply—
and raise it gently to the sky.
This is the place where peace is grown:
where every voice is heard and known.
No harsh words echo through these walls—
only gentle care as each one calls.
The teacher’s role is more than guide,
but keeper of peace and light inside.
A sanctuary, day by day—
where hearts are shaped in quiet ways.
Provoking her is not easy to do
She’s been teaching children since fifty-two
Spanking was the norm back in the day
I still like to use it she will often say
Alas times have changed, children now play
Wasting their time each and every other day
Ridiculous she said when she finally retired
Just months before she may have been fired.
For my friend Patricia who followed her dream, and became the teacher she was meant to have been.
* * *
When I was a little girl, long ago
Uncle John bought me a box of chalks
A blackboard too, a dream coming true
The teacher in me was being born.
I played teacher, the pupils my toys
Hour after hour and day after day
Those moments I will never forget
Of when the teacher in me was made.
I became a teacher, lived the dream
Wonderful, golden days of my life
Found it rewarding in many ways
No two school days were ever the same.
I enjoyed teaching from first day to last
Helping students on their way to success
Making many precious memories
Souvenirs made with pride and pure joys.
I praise the day I got that box of chalks
From uncle John, dearly loved of course.
* * *
Silence, silence—pin-drop silence,
Commands the teacher's voice.
Yet in the hush, the children scheme,
Their whispers soft, their hearts rejoice.
Even in silence, eyes convey
The thrill of games at end of day.
Their glances speak of plans anew,
Of bonds they’ll strengthen as they play.
With nodding heads and thumbs held high,
Cute smiles flash, some gaps reveal.
Twinkling eyes and brows that dance,
Their silent signals, joy unsealed.
In quietude, their thoughts align,
Ideas shared without a sound.
Children found joy in silent moments,
Understanding blooms profound.
For silence listens, silence speaks—
A language deep, beyond the words we seek.
Nachman was a revered Sage
The greatest of his age
One day he came to his stand
Armless! What had happened?
The next day, no legs either
His students, now in a fever
On the morrow, his body covered with boils
Panic set in – Was that the reward for all of Nachman's toils?
Asked if to teach, he still could
He replied ~ ‘What happens is all for the good’
~ Adapted from part of the tale in the Talmud
of 'Nachum, Ish Gam-zo,' meaning 'Nachum,
the man who says, "This too is for the good."
Tractate Ta'anis / Fasting - Chapter Three,
page 10b
Cutesy petootsie teacher with her hair so fine
The boys showed up every day in a line
The girls liked her too, she was a favorite all over school
One of the kindest teachers, and she was no fool
Her outfits were perfect, her hair the right kind of messy.
We called her Miss B, the principal called her Miss Bessy
She never missed a day, and we came every day too
The finest teacher I ever had since year preschool two
Some 58 years ago, he taught me algebra in high school.
About 15 years ago, I gave him a call, just to say hi.
He said he did not remember me, and that was okay.
We talked a bit about this and that, and I told him
How much I had admired him from my high school days.
In closing, he said, "You made my day".
042825PS
I’m just a cackling controller
(sit straight, listen, stop talking)
Until I stop to look into your eyes
It’s the wonder in them which makes me a teacher
I’m just a watching monitor
(settle down, take your things, write neatly)
Until I stop and pay attention to your work
It’s the magic in your hands that make me a teacher
I’m just a juggling joker
(quick, time up, I have another class)
Until I sit with a sigh and a stretch and a sip(of coffee)
It’s my reflection that makes me a teacher
It’s not what I teach
It’s not what you learn
It’s the bond we share that makes me a teacher
I’m a nobody until you accept and let me into your hearts
I’m not a teacher until You make me one.
When I saw her eyes were burnt sienna,
and her lips were purple plaid,
when she said she wasn’t my kid’s teacher,
boy, was I ever sad.
Every day,
I try my best
To achieve the impossible goal
Of teaching children
Sometimes it’s a puzzle
That I can’t solve,
Where nothing comes together,
And none of the pieces fit
Other times, it’s a dance,
Endlessly rehearsed—
Only the steps keep changing,
And the audience doesn’t care
Sometimes it's a blind search:
An endless groping in the dark
For a light switch that isn’t there,
Or doesn’t work
But then I remind myself
That teaching requires warmth,
And so I take the time to build a fire,
And wait for them to gather ‘round.
He was a born teacher
From birth destined to be
You'd know by his phene.
In capitalist-run schools
He's taught for many years
Earning pennies for labour.
Three years a beneficiary
On stipend of N-power teach
The Program axed by corruption.
Then long a community teacher
He's rendering public service
For little pay out of community levy.
He's adept; he got more papers
Hoping for full employment
With satisfaction in the job.
He got a conversion to EdoStar
State-run, two-year probationer
On the barest wage.
On his appointment
In the civil service, he got
The news of his careerlong pursuit.
The government is youth-centric
On account of his age, maybe his status
Or affiliation, he's disqualified.
Meanwhile politikers in the council
Of politricks make millions
By the seconds chattering all day.