Ode to The Twenty-Eight

I hand you a pencil,
you bite off the eraser.
Please, keep your shoes on your feet, sir.

I ask you to find your seat,
into another desk you ram.
Please, put your lip gloss in your cubby, ma'am.

I say, "Push in your chairs!"
You growl like prowling grizzly bears.

I say, "Fold your hands!"
Your eyes begin to gaze into far off lands.

I say, "Voices off!"
Up, up, UP your voices loft.

Yet,

When you pull a hair off my shirt,
leave a love note on my desk when you see I am hurt..
Allow me to hug away your tears,
and encourage away any deep, dark fears..

I am filled with a sense of awe,
..even if I catch you in yet another pencil gnaw.