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by Shelby M. Forrest The children file in and go straight to the rug, Their eager young eyes all aglow. Each child will proceed to his pre-assigned line, Then to his own spot he will go. The eyes of each child on the teacher are fixed, A story they're waiting to hear About the adventures of Crocodile Al, Who all of the swamp creatures fear. Then after the story, the teacher will say, "To your work stations now you may go. To the Listening Posts, the Building Blocks. What your project is each of you know." The bell will soon ring for the mid-morning snack, After which to the toys they will rush. On a scooter or a little three-wheeler bike, And some a big wagon will push. The pitter patter of fast-moving feet In a motion that's ever perpetual - To harness such energy's futile indeed An attempt would prove ineffectual. As the year goes by and the children grow, They learn and continually smarten. Just who are these bright little dynamos? Why, that's our kindergarten. |
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