The class photo
The photo man’s getting quite hot in the face,
he really is looking a mess.
He’s spent a whole hour trying to get us in place
but he hasn’t had any success.
Annabelle’s tripped over Christopher’s chair
and Bethany’s started to bleat
’Cause Ben spat his chewing gum into her hair
after stomping on both of her feet.
Emma keeps poking her tongue out at Rose,
Alison’s taking a nap.
The girls in the front are adjusting their bows
and won’t keep their hands in their lap.
Tom’s spilled the drink he’s been secretly slurping
all over the back of my neck
and someone above me keeps farting and burping.
The photo man’s looking a wreck!
He’s glaring at me and I wish I could hide,
he’s just about out of his mind.
But it’s hard to keep both of my hands by my side
when I’m poked in the ribs from behind.
We’ve finally stopped all the wriggles and squeals
but I’m not sure the photo’s still on
’cause the photo man’s suddenly turned on his heels
And he’s packed up the camera and gone.
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4