My First Day
Stomping, screaming, shouting,
clung to my mummies knee,
I just want to go right home,
will no-one hear my plea.
Pouting, prising, parting,
my mummy gone away,
led gently to the bright room,
and told I had to stay.
Scanning, spying, spotting,
a dolls house with a tree.
Plastic plates and cups,
ready to pour some tea.
Pasting, playing, painting,
a masterpiece is made,
held together with some glue,
and love that will never fade.
Stomping, screaming, shouting,
clung to the big red door,
I don’t want to go home,
can I stay some more?
Diana ~ this is adorable!
Would you mind if I share it as a reblog at some point in the future?
Thanks ❤
David
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Sure, that’s okay.
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Hi Dianna, sorry I missed read that this poem was yours and not David’s. I have to say it’s beautiful and you have caught the child’s thoughts and actions so well it’s perfect.
I remember my first week at school I was four years old, 64 years ago, and then my children and grandchildren’s first days! You touch my heart.💜
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Thank you.I was five, and I did not want to go. My grandaughter just walked in without a tear. Her mum and I were crying though.
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That’s so sweet… ❤
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We always feel it more than they do don’t we 😂😂❤️
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