School Poems Illustrated by Matylda Ignasiak
Matylda Ignasiak
School Poems A petite whisper, a tiny chat, And the teachers call you a brat, A taste of your lunch, the smell in your nose, And the teacher instantly knows.
What can you do? The day can’t go through, Without a petite whisper, a tiny chat, Although the teachers call you a brat, A taste of your lunch, the smell in your nose, Even if the teacher instantly knows.
The Weekday Routine In your backpack, Squeeze your lunchpack, Pencil, rubber, pencil case, Kiss your mother’s gentle face, Off you go and run to school, Don’t forget to stay cool!
The Monstrous Lunch For the image of your lunch, You have waited so much, From the beginning of the day, And all the way, But when the box unlocks, Your appetite suddenly stops, At the look of a sausage, In a porridge, And at the ham, in the jam.
All Kinds of Teachers Kind are some teachers, Some teachers, mean creatures, Some of the teachers will give you a hand, Some won’t let you understand. Some are smelly, Some give out jelly, Some give you free time, Some say you did a crime. Some do not guide, Some on your side, Some tell your parents the smallest thing, Some just sing, sing and sing, Some sad teachers, Do not have features.
A Laugh in The School Though brakes can be tough, We soon have enough, And we get giggles, Even from tickles, ‘Cause what is a break, Without a mistake, That is repaired, And then a laugh is shared, And we are not aware, Of the bell that isn’t fair.
The End of the School-day Though it had been fun, The day is done, You need to see your mum, Say goodnight to the sun. For the night loose your mates, Running out of the gates, Though your friend updates, Your mind desperately waits.
The Weirdest Dream About School Your day normally starts, But the school strangely farts, Your friends in toxic masks, And you have to complete the tasks. Your teacher turns out to be a mummy, She also gives out gummy, And then she squeezes you into a car, She says she’ll drive you far, far, far, And gives you a chocolate bar, And you just think ‘bizarre.’
PE High knees, boring knees, Let me stop please. Jumping jacks, tiring jacks, Why can’t I relax? Knee bends, dull bends, I’d rather hang out with my friends. But when it comes to games, In your body flames, Everyone with joy exclaims, Even the teacher happily plays.
Art
Right and left, left and right, Drawing a night, In the night light, The light is white, To the teacher being polite, Well, you always like to excite, Seeing such a beautiful sight, The teacher’s face full of delight, With the others trying to fight,
On the bottom your name you write,
Looking at it you say it’s “alright”, On your face the smile so bright.