The Empty Space

Our preschool is a packaway
We build the space anew each day
Some aspects hold the same a while
While others change to make us smile.

We have a cupboard, organised
To keep the little ones surprised
Who knows what magic’s here today
In preschool where we come to play?

The knowledge sits inside the toys
For all the little girls and boys
Those bricks? They hold the counting in
The first one to a hundred wins!

Inside the secret reading tent
The children slip with keen intent
“We’re going to sit and read a book
You’re welcome if you’d like to look?”

A corner of the room holds art
For little stars to make a start
The climbing frame is so much fun
You stretch, and climb, and slide, and run.

The garden holds surprises too
We keep them tucked away for you
The things that hide beneath a log
A snail, a worm, a slimy frog.

And ride-ons that we drive around
With beeping, hooting, revving sounds
The horses passing on the road
A tractor with its heavy load.

Tonight there is a party on
And all the toys must soon be gone
The hall must be an empty space
Of children there must be no trace.

But still inside the building’s walls
The sound of tiny children calls
The little ones who went before
Who trod across this wooden floor.

And as we clear the sunlit space
A smile might pass across my face
At the thought of what is packed away
In our village preschool hideaway.


(Thanks to Ray Wilcockson and Martin Robinson for the inspiration.)

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