A Little Teacher Poem by M D Dinesh Nair

A Little Teacher



At times a little teacher stands before me
With a smiling face.
And her sweet mouth speaks
Things I have never heard.

A cute girl of early teens,
A teacher of principles self imposed.
In her class I am the lone pupil
And she teaches me ever.

The chambers of my recollections past
Cry for a change perhaps,
My old teachers fade into oblivion
As my new teacher waits to steal in.

My learning is her choice
Though the subjects taught are none new.
No notes, no admonishing and no comparisons!
I begin to learn the mind of a growing child.

There arises only one question-
How long will she teach like this?
As she makes steps forward unto her tomorrows
I shall cease to be her pupil.

My steps are made as well
As the tomorrows won`t leave me alone.
Somewhere I may stand stranded with feeble feet
And the gale of ailments may begin to cross my frame.

Then I shall remember the lessons taught by you
My little teacher, my philosopher once
And I shall hold on to your kind love and care
Oh! My dear daughter, let us stop for now.

First submitted: Wednesday, September 19,201

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Heather Wilkins 30 June 2013

beautiful write on a little teacher my daughter. sometimes the children are excellent teachers.

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Shahzia Batool 23 April 2014

oh ok, i got it now...nice li'l poem...about a little teacher! i received your comments on my urdu poem, i'm glad because urdu readership is very rare, thanks so much for that!

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Ken E Hall 15 February 2014

Fine original tale yes the young ones of today are a fine example in learning the laptop a huge tool for knowledge...lovely read...regards

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Roseann Shawiak 22 January 2014

Wonderfully true to life poem! Excellent poem! While reading it images of my Granddaughters came to mind, I could see them teaching me through their years. You are correct about them being teacher and philosopher. Out of the mouths of babes sometimes Wisdom whispers. Thank you for sharing this heart-felt poem. RoseAnn

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Queeny Gona 17 October 2013

Children learn by immitation and in India it is so true that immitating teachers is also a part of their regularly played games at home! I was reminded of my childhood: how I irritated my papa with my teachings every day until I learned to know its pain! Awesome read Sir!

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Geetha Jayakumar 31 July 2013

Wow..Beautiful poem...I shall cease to be her pupil..So true..Liked reading each lines..

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