Third Grade Poems - Poems about Third Grade

In the echoing halls of third grade, he sits, a nine-year-old lad, master of the silent symphony, the classroom's perpetual farter. His seat, a throne of hidden thunder, each release a stealthy gust, an unseen hand that wafts through the air, invisible yet undeniable. The girl down the aisle, her eyes wide with wonder, a scientist in the making, studies his every move, curiosity alive in her gaze, as if decoding...

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In a long red skirt, with a great big smile, Our young senorita danced, Doing all the moves in Flamenco style, For third graders, quite advanced. Though we watched on screen, it was pure delight As they clapped and stomped and moved. That six lessons (wow!) led to such a night, To my mind (and others) proved That when those in charge have...

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My cousin and I were dismayed By the kids who were in her third grade They had no answers to tell Though they spoke very well And knew how impressions were made! They earned an A+ for endurance For displaying remarkable effluence They could babble all night With no fact in sight Nor any sign of congruence! Oh, how wise we thought that we...

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They were telling on each other. He is annoying; always talking. I just want peace and quiet! He keeps tapping my desk. She is irritating. I cannot stand her. We do not get along. Why do we have to sit together? She pinched me, so I smacked her hard. My folks say to hit them twice as hard back even at school. It...

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Third grade is going nuts with excitement. Their exuberant joy is beyond normal, urged on by a video cartoon. Star of the show is a sassy talking blue parrot. Six to eight of the louder eight-year-olds are yelling now. It is their lunch time. Guess who their supervisor is. I forgot how young they are. They bray like crazed donkeys over...

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We hardly knew we were children When we trudged like soldiers Through the new snow As it draped the barren maple Trees Of the northeast In a new winter coat, We barely knew another world sang like A mutable wind, Beyond the phantom of Small town madness Where matriarchal rules Danced like the sugarplum fairy Right into the minds of...

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parading in the outliers of my mind unkind rumors told about me because of my family haunting my nights when I used to cry myself to sleep because I was them and they were me my third-grade teacher gave me this advice when they get to know you, they will know you are not your family, or their past. Be you and true. Sad and...

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Her dress was wild with a colorful flare. Her high heels were perfect as was her hair. She was my third grade teacher, Mrs. Tee. She was truly as cute as she could ever be. When we heard her heels going click, click, click, We knew our day would be greater, and slick. She taught us our multiplication table. Phonics, spelling, whatever...

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Witches and warlocks marching their truth Pouring discarded spells on poor Sister Ruth Laughing as they dance and run on her head. Showing her what will happen when she is dead. But I am a nun she yells, thinking it will stop their play. Not realizing they are determined.to have fun today. A ornery old ghost in the corner joins in...

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Chickens are funny In so many ways Barnyard clowns for sure Pecking and clucking Fighting over feed Some are road kill Suicidal Kamikaze Free range chickens White feathers Golden beaks Staring eyes Barnyard Cackling Magic Chicks...

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Fire is raging. Fire is gray pink angry. Destroys happily....

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Homage to a Third Grade Teacher I see it now the cork with holes the wood around it splintered, but it was our window to the world. On it he would display a thousand hoarded pictures from calendars long outdated, but in his mind; useful still. I see his window opening to those faraway places meant to be visited, longing for my...

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