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Poems
My First Teacher
(04 October 1943 / Germany)

My First Teacher

They say the years from one to five,
when tiny tots become alive,
li'l professors they are, really
as they take in and store so freely

an overload of information,
as if by heaven-sent dictation.
Those years of active acquisition
are followed by the earnest mission

of teachers in the local school
who teach even the dumbest fool.
And, if you want to know the reason
why some of us learn out of season,

continue to obtain the goods
about the why's and what's and should's,
in playgrounds and on dusty streets.
It's when your hungry, blue eye meets

that of the teacher to connect.
In a split second a direct
and lasting bond is herewith born.
And from that moment you are torn

between the world and your first love
when she regards you from above.
But if no spark arises there
the two of you will never share

a common path through those first years,
and when your graduation nears,
you'll say good bye with no regret,
as cool as on the day you met.

For those who do feel adoration,
in early years a fair sensation,
you will increase your own IQ
because you understand the true

sweet essence of your little mind.
You learn to count, to write and find
that teacher's eyes are your reward.
When other pupils do act bored

you whip your mental faculties
for one good reason, it's to please
the one who does appreciate
your intellect in a debate.

You learn a trillion silly facts
about strange wars and secret pacts.
And, in the end, when you're all grown
it is as if you'd always known.

Your parents spend with you their days,
but seldom shower you with praise.
You learn for life, say those who know,
not for the school system, oh no.
But mine was such a lovely creature,
I did my thing just for the teacher.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 3 votes ) 6

Comments (6)

My first teacher, I like this poem
Hopefully, you develop a love of learning and a curiosity that will stay with you always. Also, I've been lucky enough to develop friendships with some of my teachers that have lasted a lifetime.
Ahhhh! This does take me back a long way Herbert, although I can't say my first teacher was a nice person. She was called Miss Goldfinch, of all names, and she scared the life out of me! Mind you I suppose times have changed slightly for the better. They were very stricked in those days, in the 40's. I enjoyed this one immensley. Sincerely Ernestine Northover
Remind me of the teachers that had patience with me...good write!
H, this is a good poem, I often had teachers I adored.
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