Ethelred
Ethelred had toasted bread
Each night before he went to bed.
And every day when he got up
Hot Chocolate filled his morning cup.
Then before he went to School
A Bacon Sandwich was the rule.
His Mother made his lunch each day
Which took about an hour I'd say.
Two Sausage Rolls and three Pork Pies
Four bags of Crisps as a surprise.
Some Sandwiches of Roasted Lamb
A fresh baked Quiche of Cheese and Ham.
Then for Dessert a Chocolate Cake
With Clotted Cream she'd always make.
His School was forty yards away
A healthy walk you just might say.
But Ethelred would always stop
At McIntyre's his favorite shop.
Some Sherbet Lemons or a Dip
Into his School Bag he would slip.
Then he would saunter on his way
Prepared to face another day.
At School he'd join his Classroom line
In readiness to start at nine.
His Mum had written him a note
And placed it in his Overcoat.
It asked his Teacher to refrain
From making him do 'Games' again.
'Ethelred's not well' it said
'Could he do Cookery instead? '.
His Teacher thought that it was wise
In view of his enormous size.
That Ethelred should still take part
In exercise to help his heart.
They set off for the Football Field
Where very soon it was revealed
That Ethelred would still not play
He'd left his kit at home today.
His Teacher would not be gainsaid
Nor change the plans that he had made.
Ethelred was much too fat
And needed help to alter that.
So, off he hauled him to the Gym
With clear intent, to make him slim.
He'd start him on the Vaulting Horse
Which he would reinforce, of course.
Young Ethelred looked on, bemused
His Mother wouldn't be amused
At Teacher's plans to make him fit
In fact, she wouldn't hear of it.
He needed building up, she thought
Not turn into the skinny sort
Who suffered from perrenial ills
And spent their lives digesting pills.
But Ethelred felt that he should
Obey the Teacher if he could.
So even though he had no kit
Prepared himself to go for it.
He removed his shoes and socks
And headed for the vaulting box.
Determinedly he built up speed
Forgetting all about the need
To leave the ground and make a vault
A pretty catastrophic fault!
He hit the box with dreadful force
Destroying it, at once, of course.
But even then he did not stop
He hit the wall...And then went POP! !
And so, a word now, to the wise;
DO NOT MIX FOOD AND EXERCISE! ! ! ! ! ! !
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
poem by Owain Glyn

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Related quotes
A teacher who is just right
Have you had a teacher
That makes your heart glow
A teacher is wonderful
A teacher whom you feel honored to have
A teacher who you can laugh or cry with
A teacher whom you can love no matter what they do
A teacher who looks up to you when you don't know
A teacher who just seems to understand you
A teacher who you think about day and night
A teacher whom you pray for as you go to bed
A teacher who is there when need them to
Thoughts of them are always in your head
A teacher who shares with you there ups and downs
A teacher who is there for you in school
A teacher who you share all your smiles with replacing al your frowns
poem by Rosa Tenezaca

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Canute the Great
I'll tell of Canute, King of England,
A native of Denmark was he,
His hobbies was roving and raiding
And paddling his feet in the sea.
By trade he were what's called a Viking,
Every summer he'd visit our shore,
Help himself to whatever he wanted,
And come back in the autumn for more.
These trips always showed him a profit,
But what stumped him to know was this 'ere...
Where the English folk got all the money,
He came and took off them each year.
After duly considering the matter,
He concluded as how his best course,
Were to have an invasion of England,
And tap the supply at its source.
He got other Vikings to join him,
With a promise of plunder and spoil,
And raked up atrocity stories,
To bring all their blood to the boil.
They landed one morning at Weymouth,
And waited for fight to begin,
While their foe, Ethelred the Unready,
Found his army and got it fell in.
When the battle were done, Crown of England,
Changed heads, so the history book states,
From Ethelred's seven-and-a-quarter,
To King Canutes six-and-five-eights.
The Vikings was cheered as the winners,
Ethelred, he went somewhere and died,
And Canute, to his lasting atonement...
Made the widow, Queen Emma, his bride.
She started to teach him his manners,
To drink without wetting his nose,
Put his hand to his mouth and say "Pardon!",
Every time the occasion arose.
She said his companions was vulgar,
His habits more easy than free,
Made him promise no more to disgrace her,
By paddling his feet in the sea.
At the time this 'ere promise meant nothing,
It were made in the cool of the spring,
But when summer came in with a heat wave,
T' were a totally different thing.
He moved his court down to the seaside,
Where they took off their shoes and their socks,
And rushed to the water and left him,
Alone on his throne on the rocks.
Said one, "Come on King, have a paddle,
I'll look after your sceptre and crown."
He replied, "Nay, I promised the missus,
And I can't let the old... lady down."
"No need to do that," said the Tempter,
"The tide's coming in, as you see;
You promised you wouldn't go to it,
But you can't stop it coming to thee!"
And that's how it happened... that later,
When Emma came over the sands,
She found Canute knee deep in water,
Trying to shush the sea back with his hands.
For not letting on that he'd seen her,
He was chiding each wave as it came,
Saying, "Thus far, my lad, and no further!"
'Til Emma said, "What is this game?"
He replied, These 'ere flatterers told me,
That the sea would obey me, and so,
I'm giving them this demonstration,
To show what a fat lot they know."
"You're doing quite right," shouted Emma,
"It's time someone made them look small!"
Then she took off her shoes and her stockings,
And started to paddle an' all.
poem by Marriott Edgar

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Read
I'm a pupil
Not a teacher
I go to school
Islamic and western
A teacher in the class
I don't play or make noise
When at home
I read and play!
In school report card
I come first
Every body loves me
Lizard nodes head for me
Teacher gives me money
Mommy gives me chocolate
Daddy gives me a toy car
Birds sing for me
I smile! Laugh! ! And laugh! ! ! !
I'm still laughing
Ha! Ha! ! Haaa! ! !
poem by Bello Sagir Imam

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Teacher Says, Teacher Goes
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smiles,
teacher knows,
what you have done,
was clearly a mistake,
maybe it is,
time for a break.
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smiles,
teacher knows,
that you have been naughty.
That you have been quite foughty.
That you are being rude,
don't call teacher a dude.
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smilies,
teacher know,
that you were making faces,
behind teachers back,
that you were throwing spitballs,
at the teacher's pet.
Teacher says,
teacher goes,
teacher smiles,
teacher knows.
So enough is said,
so now you know,
that whatever you do.....
Teacher says,
Teacher goes,
Teacher smilies,
Teacher knows
poem by Jasmine Aira

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Teacher Love
My mother is
Home
Teacher...
My
Teacher is
School
Mother....
My
Father is
Home
Teacher...
My
Teacher is
School father...
Female or male...
Not differnet for
Love...
And Teaching....
Any thing fals...?
No problem....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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Teacher, Teacher
Teacher, teacher
I may not love you
But you're the teacher
I try to do what you want me to
I know you get lonely
But you gotta know
It wasn't love
Let me tell you honey
I'm just a young girl
Don't think I know it enough
Teacher, teacher
I don't wanna get an A
Teacher, teacher
There's gotta be a better way
I'm sick and tired of makin' plans
Without makin' up my mind (Make up your mind)
Teacher, teacher
Can't you see I just need a little time
I know you've been cryin'
Just think that you're not alone
Just cry me a river
It's what you'll deliver
We have to do it on the floor
Teacher, teacher
I don't wanna get an A
Teacher, teacher
There's gotta be a better way
(Woohoo, yeah)
Teacher, teacher
I've been tryin' to get you down
But why should you get used to somebody
Who won't be around
I know you get discouraged
Cause you wanna do it all the time
Honey I can't let you use my body
The same way you use my mind
Teacher, teacher
I don't wanna get an A
Teacher, teacher
There's gotta be a better way
[repeats to end]
song performed by by Prince

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teacher, Teacher
Just when I thought I finally learned my lesson well,
There was more to this than meets the eye.
And for all the things you taught me, only time will tell,
If I'll be able to survive. Oh yeah.
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me all I need to know?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
Or will I fall when you let me go? Oh no.
Am I ready for the real world, will I pass the test?
You know it's a jungle out there.
Ain't nothin' gonna stop me, I won't be second best,
But the joke's on those who believe the system's fair, oh yeah.
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me if I'm right or wrong?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
I wanna know what's goin' on, Oh yeah.
So the years go on and on, but nothing's lost or won.
And what you learned is soon forgotten.
They take the best years of your life,
Try to tell you wrong from right,
But you walk away with nothing. Oh Oh.
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me all I need to know?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
Or will I fall when you let me go?
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Can you tell me if I'm right or wrong?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
I wanna know what's goin' on, Oh
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Teacher, teacher, can you reach me?
Teacher, teacher, can you teach me?
Teacher, teacher, Ooh yeah.
Teacher, teacher
Teacher, teacher
~Adams, Vallance
song performed by by 38 Special

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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L'ecole
School is such a wreck
School is such a bore
Especially with all the stupid little whores
The time drags on
As the teacher talks some more
School is such a bore
School it makes me sick!
Lunch is too short, and class is too long
Everyone is lame
And everyone just wants to play their stupid games
We want to hang out
We want to kickback
We want to leave school
Lets have another walk-out
Maybe even break-out!
School is such a bore
School is such a wreck
I wonder when we get to leave?
As soon as the bell rings?
My teacher looks like an ugly duck
I hope he'll finally shut up!
Hurray! Hurray!
The bell finally rung!
poem by Starrbox Munoz

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My English Teacher
At the grade three
A new teacher came
Around her table
A queue we were all in
Having exercise books on our hands
To get written our names on it
Twining with aroma of her perfume
Let the mind not go back to the bench
My English teacher
Not like other teachers
Wearing new dresses
Pleasant smile with snazzy
I bought a double rule book
To write proper English letters
Putting the alphabet of base
Following day had a message
No more with us
Principle's words
Teacher came to us
We cried a lot
"Why may teacher you go leaving us'
'Is our school not good'
While worshiping on her feet
Without an answer
Looking at us
Touched our heads
She got a transfer
Because of our remote dry school
Since then on
Until primary end
Without an English teacher
My texts books were new
She doesn't know me for sure
Placed an aroma still in my mind
You wrote that name of mine
I am writing today.
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon

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My first day in school
More than half a century ago,
the Monsoon showers had just brought relief from the sweltering summer,
just when I was dreaming of playing soccer whole day outdoors,
My Dad decided that I have to attend an elementary school.
I was dragged a mile by my older brother to my new school,
It would be my favorite Durga Temple converted into a school,
My dreams of a class with benches and chairs just vanished,
As we were sitting on the floor in open partitioned classrooms of the school.
I thought I would get a nice colorful uniform to wear to school,
but it looked like that the dress code was a futuristic dream,
At least every class had a black board bigger than my slate,
the teacher had a duster whereas I had to wipe the chalk with my hand.
The fear of some burly kids and nostalgia of home made me sad and homesick,
I could not stop crying and asking my teacher to let me go home.
I still remember the teacher with big black cane,
every time I cried to go home, I got a whack on my palm with his cane,
I could not stop crying, he would not stop whacking,
till I was sent in a distant corner for breaking the class rule.
Kneeling down in the corner, I dreamt of Mom and home,
I found comfort in the memories of joyous Durga Puja days,
I wished the Goddess would come alive,
and pierce the hands of the teacher with her big spear.
Finally the Tiffin time heralded the temporary recess,
the teacher came down and helped me open my Tiffin can,
He asked me to eat while he wrote something on my slate,
He hoped that it would keep me interested in his school.
After I finished my food, he handed my slate,
He had drawn a picture of a big smiling cat with whiskers and big tail,
He asked me to draw the cat on the other side of the slate,
I was so happy drawing the circles and lines whole afternoon,
I forgot I had a rough first day in school.
poem by Jay P Narain

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Teacher, Teacher
Teacher, teacher, teacher, teach me now
Teacher, teacher, teacher, guide me now
Teacher, teacher, teacher, show the way
You are my light
You are my guide.
Teacher, teacher, teacher, comfort me
Give your listening ears when I cry
Help me find the strength in what I can
You are my help
You are my guide.
Teacher, teacher, teacher, build me up
When I do wrong, show me what is right
Teacher, teacher, teacher, let us laugh
You are my friend
You are my guide.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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School Teacher
I seen you walkin' every day on your way, school
I seen you talkin' to the children
I seen you talkin' to, ooh yeah
School teacher, yeah
In the boiler beneath the building
And I'm so lonely, I'm lonely, yeah
Go to your parties, goin' to your meeting
You look so busy, are you busy? Yeah
Na na na na na, school teacher
The day goes on so fast, fast, fast
School teacher, yeah
Where ya gonna go last?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, yeah
I'd like to know ya, but I'm a nothin'
And you know somethin', I'd like to know ya, yeah
I'd like to hold ya, I'd like to love ya,
I'd like to know ya, I'd like to know ya, yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah na, na, na,
School teacher please don't walk on past, past
School teacher, yeah
Where ya gonna go last?
Oh yeah, oh yeah, yeah
song performed by by Bob Seger

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teacher Man
The Teacher Man teaches kids from all over the world
The Teacher Man teaches no matter boy or girl
The Teacher Man teaches Christans, Musilms, and Jews
The Teacher Man teaches those who say 'God I don't believe in you'
The Teacher Man teaches over demands for more recess
The Teacher Man teaches to only demand the best
The Teacher Man teaches Science, Reading, and Math
The Teacher Man teaches how to live out of class
The Teacher Man teaches all how to share
The Teacher Man teaches that we all should care
The Teacher Man teaches how to keep an open mind
The Teacher Man teaches with a kick in the behind
The Teacher Man teaches there are lessons in life
The Teacher Man teaches how to overcome strife
The Teacher Man teaches there's nothing wrong with a hug
The Teacher Man teaches the world changes with Love
The Teacher Man teaches the rich and the poor
The Teacher Man teaches those who are ready for more
The Teacher Man teaches how to look someone in the eye
The Teacher Man teaches how to accept someone in their cry
The Teacher Man teaches in more than one tounge
The Teacher Man teaches how to make working hard fun
The Teacher Man teaches all the colors of the land
But, most important of all, he teaches we should take a stand
Take a Stand, Take a Stand, for what you believe
Take a Stand, Take a Stand, and you will be free
Take a Stand, Take a Stand, for the least of the least
Take such Stand man, and you will find peace
He's the Teacher Man
poem by Ary Bolanos

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My son's Teacher
On this beautiful day
For all of a whole eight hours
My little boy I place
Dear Teacher, with trust in these hands of yours.
Teach him dear Teacher
The right way to grow
So when he is older
He will know the way he should go
By example, dear Teacher
In words that you say
By things that you do
Dear Teacher, show him the right way.
Graciousness let him see
And gracious words let him hear
Not the rude, the nasty
Keep belittling away from his ears.
Show him how firmness and love
Can difficult people or times gently handle
That screaming and beating
Become only a bully’s poor saddle.
I tell him dear Teacher
Solutions are thought
But the cane at school dear Teacher
Tells him by violence they are bought.
Dear Teacher of my little boy
Do please take care
To you he is one in a forty
To me he is one in a one, only!
poem by Dennisa Davidson

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Oh Teacher Oh Teacher
Oh teacher, Oh teacher!
My test isn't signed
Because somehow
My parents went blind
Now, don't say it's my fault,
They left their hands in the bank vault.
Oh teacher, Oh teacher
Do you know why
I was born without wings
And so cannot fly
Thus I am late
Didn't have breakfast,
So if you don't mind,
Pass me a plate.
Oh teacher, Oh teacher!
I've failed again
Please don't scold me,
Now you'll see why,
I was thinking about
Having an eagle's brain.
poem by Sharmila Saheed

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Two Teachers
TWO TEACHERS
When I was in
Viii th standard
slim, young, tall girl
was our class teacher
assigning a lengthy comprehension
to the students as exercise,
she would delve with passion, into
personal letters kept in the drawer.
may be her sweet-heart
from a distant centre;
hiding her sweating bodylines and visible distraction
she would pretend to be model disciplinarian
as an immature lot, we only watch
and forget much sooner, without
attributing any importance to the
blushful teacher's mission so hidden
her hero once turned up at class time
a rustic outfit, not a match for our teacher
teacher went absent, the news leaked a week later
that both got married & seen together in a theatre
after a month, a new teacher arrived
of sufficient age, black, stiff and short-tempered
with the biased bent of mind on the students of viii std.,
as if we colluded with or aided the affairs of the slim teacher
I got admitted into a high school, at the fall of the year
and re-visited my school, after a lapse of 15 years
our black teacher is now the ‘strict head- mistress'
having struck by a disastrous love,
had chosen to be a ‘vexed-spinster'.
Moral: as common in any school, the final result;
one is ‘successful' and another has ‘failed'
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis

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A Good teacher
A Good teacher is one, who teaches with love.
A Good teacher is one, who Corrects Students and make them Grow, Instead of shouting and making them slow.
A Good teacher is one, who makes Things to Flow.
A Good teacher is one, who gets things done as and when.
A Good teacher is one, who never treats a student as Foe.
A Good teacher is one, who Teachings must help in long Run.
A Good teacher is one, who says always it can be done.
A Good teacher is one, who should never make students Run, Instead have Great Fun.
A Good teacher is one, who must be always Bright and Teach Students Right.
A Good teacher is one, who is always a best Friend
poem by Narendra Kuppan

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The Perfect school
THE PERFECT SCHOOL
A place where a student worships his teacher as a god,
The heads of the children before their teacher nod.
The place is the school where teachers give education,
It’s a school where there is afforestation.
A school that has all the beauties,
Is a perfect school whose students have all the qualities.
A school whose students will become president and magic vista,
A school whose students will become Rabindranath Tagore and Mother Teresa.
The Perfect School is a school whose trees will always be uploaded with fruits of joy, success and happiness,
A school whose students will never have a future of darkness.
That school will conquer the world,
In that school, music will be sung by birds.
CONTRIBUTED BY:
Gautam Kumar Sharma
poem by Gautam Sharma

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one day at school, Korea (1801)
I don’t like school, Sir
most venerable teacher;
and though you are kind, Sir
and all my classmates too
and you all help me study and learn
like you make me know
the first five characters in the alphabet
but the moment I am out of school
all I can remember
are the rice-cakes and sweets and the dumplings my mother makes
and true, Sir
most venerable teacher
you teach me the numbers
and I can count from 1 to 5
when I am in class
but when I’m out
I love the toys my father brings
and I play with the wooden toy soldiers
and I love the ducks and the clay horses;
and I really can’t remember the first five letters
or the first five characters
when I lie in bed
and when I am back in class Sir
dragged in by Old Madam Toothless Bong
who always knows where I am wherever I try to run
I can’t remember anything anyone taught me, Sir
most venerable teacher...
I know Sir
all of you have spoken to me
and my dad and my mom
and Old Madam Toothless Bong
and all my friends in class
I must study so I can go to the city and find work
but alI I want to do, Sir
most venerable teacher
is to play and eat and sleep when it is time
and one day, Sir
most venerable teacher
(I know you worry about me)
when I’m grown and big
I’ll make toys and I’ll sell them
and make money for me and my family;
and I’ll make all those sweets and dumplings
and feed my family...
so please, Sir
most venerable teacher
because I don’t like school
and I can’t remember anything
do not worry about me and let me go to the fields now
and I shall grow to be tall as the trees
and as rich as the rice fields...
________________ _________________________
poem based on painting: “Seodang”
(private elementary school in town)
by Kim Hong-do, Danwon (1745-1806)
poem by Raj Arumugam

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Woman In Politics
What, madam, run for School Director? You?
And want my vote and influence? Well, well,
That beats me! Gad! where _are_ we drifting to?
In all my life I never have heard tell
Of such sublime presumption, and I smell
A nigger in the fence! Excuse me, madam;
We statesmen sometimes speak like the old Adam.
But now you mention it-well, well, who knows?
We might, that's certain, give the sex a show.
I have a cousin-teacher. I suppose
If I stand in and you 're elected-no?
You'll make no bargains? That's a pretty go!
But understand that school administration
Belongs to Politics, not Education.
We'll pass the teacher deal; but it were wise
To understand each other at the start.
You know my business-books and school supplies;
You'd hardly, if elected, have the heart
Some small advantage to deny me-part
Of all my profits to be yours. What? Stealing?
Please don't express yourself with so much feeling.
You pain me, truly. Now one question more.
Suppose a fair young man should ask a place
As teacher-would you (pardon) shut the door
Of the Department in his handsome face
Until-I know not how to put the case
Would you extort a kiss to pay your favor?
Good Lord! you laugh? I thought the matter graver.
Well, well, we can't do business, I suspect:
A woman has no head for useful tricks.
My profitable offers you reject
And will not promise anything to fix
The opposition. That's not politics.
Good morning. Stay-I'm chaffing you, conceitedly.
Madam, I mean to vote for you-repeatedly.
poem by Ambrose Bierce

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