Our teacher is a fearsome man:
'Sit quietly now!' he said.
So everyone went quiet and still . . . .
Except for Fidgety Fred.
'Sit still I said!' the teacher roared:
'I really can’t,' said Fred.
'The only time I’m still, you see,
Is when I sleep in bed.'
And I’m afraid that Fred was right.
I’ve known him many years.
Our teacher said: “Sit still I say!'
And Fred burst into tears.
His mother then came to the school
And his father? He came too.
'Your son’s a nuisance in our class,
And I blame it all on you!'
His mother said: 'It’s not our fault.'
'Yes, that’s quite true,' Dad said.
'We’ve tried and tried to keep him still,
But nothing works with Fred.'
The doctor said: 'Don’t come to me.
There’s nothing I can do.'
And we all know, what doctors say -
It surely must be true!
So don’t be cruel to fidgety boys:
Be kind to them instead,
For the one you see who fidgets most
For certain will be Fred.
Copyright on all my poems
Follow-up: Aha, I've been a teacher all my life. I would ask a question and look for the one who looked as if they weren't paying attention and were, perhaps, fidgeting. Of course they didn't know the answer because they hadn't paid attention. However, the younger the child, the less attention span they have, so I have another way of dealing with THEM - but it is quite a nice way, believe me. Yes, I often am invited to skype into classrooms now that I'm a children's poet. Beware! Josie