With These Hands

                                                    With These Hands
                                                      Adam Bushfield

Pen, in hand, like a sword
Paper laid carefully out
Every mark precise
Every grade made with expertise

The work of a teacher
Not always glamorous
But filled with happy moments
And those not so happy

Failing students, a mustn’t
Those passing with flying colors
Quickly become those closest
Respecting, all the while

The loners no longer lonely
The quiet loud, the loud, hushed
All this in remembrance of their own school days
And in respect of the still-to-learn

With these hands, these caring hands
The teachers change lives
Touch hearts and minds
Helping others reach their dreams

Sacrifice, day in and day out
Late nights, grading papers
All for us, the students
All for us, these hands do their quiet work