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Mr. Ivan, The Principal Poet

School Bus


The yellow bus holds children,
And I ride it every day.
In morning, it heads off to school.
At night it goes the other way.

I feel so gosh darn special
In my seat upon the bus
'Cuz when we flash the blinking lights
All traffic stops for us.

Our driver is so careful
As she makes our daily drive.
I'll bet she gets most every child
Home safely and alive.

In the morning when I get on,
The bus is so sleepy quiet.
But after school as we head home
It sounds more like a riot!

After lots of careful study
I think I've finally figured out
What driving yellow buses
Is really all about.

I know just why my driver
Takes me home the shortest way
And even makes suggestions
That will help us with our day.

Such things as, "Y'all be quiet
So you don't wake up the dead!"
Now, that is surely helpful,
So I sit silent next to Fred.

Sometimes it's "Close your eyes now
And just listen to the sound
Of all your little bitty brains
A'sloshing all around."

"In your pockets," she says,
"Is the place to keep your hands."
I guess that's so we don't borrow
Some other child's hands.

But the most useful of her hollers
Comes on Fridays of each week
When she yells, "I'm about to unload y'all
At the next stop in a heap!"

That reminds me why I'm thankful
That I'm the very last stop,
Since I'm sitting in the last seat
In that heap I'll land on top!

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Article by Ivan Kershner
Education World®
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