A boisterous grade four just trooped in,
Clearly thrilled after their outing,
And as they chatted animatedly with each other,
Images of my little one seemed to gather,

I could vividly see her saunter in,
Amongst the last of her gathering,
Hair dishevelled sipping from her bottle,
Knitted brows essaying looks of Aristotle,

Just then Rabi sir walked by,
He smiled and let out a sigh,
It was as if he too was transported,
To few years back when my little one gallivanted,
Super excited and full of mission,
After one of many such expedition