In the quiet hum of morning light, we gather,
Desks aligned like soldiers in silent rows,
The chalkboard stands, a canvas of dreams and hopes,
Where wisdom dances in delicate prose.

The teacher’s voice, a gentle guiding star,
Illuminates the path of curious minds,
Each question asked, a bridge to worlds afar,
In this sacred space, where knowledge binds.

Laughter mingles with the scratch of pen,
As friendships form in whispered afternoon,
Lessons learned in moments here and then,
Under the watchful gaze of the silver moon.

When the bell tolls, a signal of day’s end,
We part with thoughts that linger in the air,
Knowing tomorrow, we will meet again,
In this classroom, a world we gladly share.