Yellow School Bus

That big yellow school bus
Stops right out front.
The little ones trudge along,
With the big guys and the runt.

Weighted down with jackets,
Books and boots each morn.
I'm startled each time I hear
The blasting of the horn.

Isn't it strange, the workings of things
It does no good to fuss.
I smile as I peek from behind lacy curtains,
At that big yellow bus.