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The Bus

How exciting it is to me

When my memory can squeeze

The sight of a yellow school bus

coming through the trees.


We were watching from the house

In our warm abode

Rather than at the bus stop

To wait by the road.

All us kids would start running.

We’d race down the hill

Then cross the creek and meadow.

To us it was a thrill.

We’d run with all our might

The wind blowing through our hair

And feel like we were flying

When we leaped into the air.

We would try to arrive

Before the bus came to a stop.

Then out of breath in we climbed in

And on the seats we’d plop.


Racing to the school bus

Was a lot of fun

With a feeling of excitement

And pleasure when we won.


When I was a child, I spoke as a child,

I understood as a child, I thought as a child.

I Corinthians 13:11 NKJV


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