Teachers Study Room © Poem by Roann Mendriq

I really must confess to you, we make a lot of noise,
In school and on the playground, we can be naughty boys!

I fashioned out a trumpet, and played it loud and clear,
My poor teacher turned quite deaf, she said it hurt her ear.

I was summoned to the Principal, for a prize let us assume,
I paused as I was passing, the Teacher's study room.

I froze with sheer amazement, I was speechless with pure shock,
Teachers were playing, Pictionary with pencil, pen and chalk.

Miss Gertie giggled girlishly, as she read out all her emails,
Miss Pamela stuck her tongue out, as she painted both her toenails!

Miss Mildred had her earphones on, balanced on her wig,
She belted out a rock song and danced a jazzy jig!

Sir Pete was reading poetry, to Miss Cassie as she blushed,
Miss Lane eavesdropped surreptitiously and oh! ... she seemed quite crushed.

Madam Teresa knitted socks, as she crooned a lullaby,
Miss Anderson waxed eloquent, on the benefits of hair dye.

Miss Matilda served coconut cake, with creamy chocolate icing,
Sir Sebastian gobbled three, they truly looked enticing.

Miss Anne was playing CandyCrush, Miss Joan, Clash of Clans,
Miss Cecelia was on cellphone, making detailed holiday plans.

A single voice erupted then, and caused a huge uproar,
'The Principal is coming...he's in the corridor! '

The teachers leapt like leprechauns, to reach their study places,
They tucked their noses into books, with sweet, innocent faces.

I toddled back to class, my heart bursting with glee,
My teachers are so awesome, they're every bit like me!