Teacher Mine

Miss Woronoski, for a start...
I'm the little monster second row, far right who refused to wear something 'nice'.

Through my life, there’s things I’ve learned,

And knowledge gained and kudos earned,

All of which just would not be,

But for the teachers sent to me.

There’s Miss Woronoski, for a start,

In Grade One, took me to her heart,

So kindly, she began to lead,

From her, I learned to love to read!

Then Mrs. Hainsworth in Grade Six,

Her massive class was quite the mix,

Convinced me not to scratch and bite,

Instead she taught me how to write!

Now Junior High was a surprise,

Ms. Wollersheim with gimlet eyes,

From the day that we arrived,

She’d do anything to help us thrive.

And Grade Nine brought me my first crush,

That Mr. Bauer turned me to mush!

We girls were stricken, every one.

And who knew Science could be fun?

So many more that got me through

To university. It’s true,

To Mrs. Fooks the very last,

Of ‘official’ teachers from my past.

Their names: McMillan, Herbst and Ford,

Some I feared and most adored,

And Mueller, Jeffers, Chipman, Read,

Taught me lots of stuff I’d need.

Hendrickson, the music fan,

And Bob, who parked like Iron Man!

And Laqua, Thomas, Seltzer, too,

From them I learned what I should do.

Each has a place there in my past,

And in my heart where mem’ries last,

I’m glad they could, my teachers, be,

T’was each of them who made me, ME!

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,

With Poetry, we all besought

To try to make the week begin

With pleasant thoughts,

Perhaps a grin?

So, all of us, together, we

Have crafted poems for you to see.

And now you’ve read what we have wrought…

Did we help?

Or did we not?

Jenny
Charlotte
Mimi

Next week's poems might turn to rants,
Our topic will be wretched 'ANTS'!