Exam room.
Air as still as dead,
Then I hear it:
Pencil.
R o l l i n g off the edg
e -
But the person catches it just in time.

I sigh in relief.

The mist that leaves the vapour in the morn
Crafts fragile drops of aqua,
Gently glides down the windows
Of an empty classroom.

Crisp cold enters from rough winter winds,
The doors would shut themselves,
As a gentle shower of rain would burst from the big grey blanket
That carpeted the skies.

Rain would fall.
Pitter
Patter,
Pitter,
Patter,
Upon the tin roof.

As I watched more of those soft, small orbs of water stream down the chilled glass.

He sits behind her everyday
and stares at her a lot
He thinks it's well and fine
But actually it is not

He waits for her when she is late
and worries beyond belief
When she comes, he looks at her
and gets a soothing relief

He speaks a lot in class
but keep his tone so dim
And pretends to be gentle and calm
Because she listens to him

He scribbles something on it
His notebook is chaotic
This is time and class is place
Where he is most poetic

He thinks of her and just of her
Coz else is just a blur
Class becomes a garden in heaven
where everyone sings of her

It's fun to play inside the house,
Puzzles, building blocks and more.
But playing outside is the best,
So just open up the door!

Get some mud on your trousers,
Some grass stains on your shirt.
Play around in the rain or sun,
Don't be scared of all the dirt.

Stomp around in giant puddles,
Whether it's December or July.
The best classroom has no walls,
And is roofed only by the sky.

We started in seventh grade,
When our ancient, grumpy teacher
That no one liked decided to give
Our second hour science class
Assigned seats.
By some great happening of fate,
I was placed next to you,
The loud, obnoxious prankster,
And I, the quiet, shy nerd.
The class at first was torture,
Yet soon became my haven.
A+ lab partners we were,
And soon A+ friends.
Though outside the classroom,
We were nothing.
We had our own friends, our own lives;
Until sophomore year, when you
Caught me coming out of the library,
John Milton in my hand.
Words were said, promises were made,
And the next day I had your hand in mine,
And we were something.
Two weeks later, under the light of trillions of stars,
On the top of the car you “borrowed”
From your strict father,
You kissed me, slowly, tenderly, lovingly,
And I felt true happiness for the first time.
On graduation day,
You caught my graduate cap,
The sun rays making beautiful patterns
On your tan face, and wavy hazel hair,
But you spun around and gave it right back to me,
To leave me for a college in California,
Thousands of miles away, away from everything
You’ve ever known.
And loved.
I tried to get over you, I really did,
But my mind circled the same tracks,
Went over the same ruts,
And I always came back to seventh grade,
When that cranky teacher gave us our
Assigned seats.
I blamed him, thinking that those
Assigned seats were the beginning of
My broken heart.
It wasn’t until four years later,
That I saw you in a library,
Hiding in the shelves, peeking through
The bookends you moved yourself,
That I realized that those feelings never left.
You had come back for me,
And those bean bags in the kids’ section
Of the library became our new assigned seats.
One day, about a year later, you didn’t take your seat;
You went down on your knee instead.
The wedding was casual, yet beautiful, as you said
I was in my light blue dress and beaming smile.
Our seventh grade science teacher sat in the front row;
The seat we assigned to him.
A week later, he went to the seat that
God assigned him, and we were back in that church,
And this time I was in a black dress and crying.
Years passed, and suddenly I found myself
In front of a classroom of my own,
Assigning seats to my own seventh graders.
The quiet, shy nerd shot me a desperate look
As I set her books down by the loud, obnoxious prankster.
I saw my own fear reflected in
Her eyes, and I simply smiled calmly at her.
Maybe some day she will be as
Happy as I was that I was given my
Assigned seat.