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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1502298-One-Too-Many
Rated: E · Poetry · Children's · #1502298
A school field trip to the aquarium... A Humorous Poetry Entry
One Too Many

I think I'm at the point where I really need new glasses.
It seems to me that kids all look the same in all my classes.
The school year's almost over, only one more trip.
I'll just be extra careful not to make a slip.

I count from one to thirty as they get on the bus.
We're heading on a field trip and I don't want a fuss
so I number each and every little smiling face
then I will always know if there's an empty space.

We gather in the parking lot and head in single file.
This keeps them all together but only for a while.
We hit the doors and off they go, little ones gone wild.
And so I spend an hour tracking down each child.

A few are making faces as they stare at sharks.
A few more are watching lampreys, standing in the dark.
Most are by the Penguin Pool, watching as they play,
with dripping hands still wet, I guess, from petting manta rays.

I gather them in one place and now comes all the fun.
I count each blurry face... Hmmm. I now have thirty-one.
The kids are up to something, they can't stop their wiggling
and every time I recount I can hear them giggling.

I try a different tack.  I look each one in the face
hoping that I'll spot the one who looks out of place.
A few seem unfamiliar but then I'm not astute ;
the most familiar one is the small kid in the suit.

It's noon and time for lunch, according to our planner.
They're like animals – except the small kid with the manners.
And so the day proceeds but I keep checking in
with the lost and found to see if any kids are missin'.

The day is finally over, so we march back to our ride.
Once again, I count the kids but still, I can't decide
how many did we start with?  Was it thirty-one?
Too many's not a problem but too few and I'll be done!

The parents take their children. Once more I've cheated death.
But one child still is waiting, the one with fishy breath,
so I sit with him, upwind, since he smells like bait
and talk to him to ease his fears. We wait... and wait... and wait...



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An entry for  "The Humorous Poetry ContestOpen in new Window.
Prompt: Humor
Line Count: 36




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