The teacher spoke, a comet of words,
but her tongue tripped, twirling,
\"Hello, goys and birls!\" she declared,
and the air cracked with laughter.
Small faces, like blooming carnations,
broke open, spilling joy everywhere.
The alphabet scattered across the floor,
rolling between tiny shoes, unchecked.
Laughter swam in the room\'s soft currents,
high-pitched, like birds startled in unison.
A chorus of innocence, uncontainable,
their mirth shook walls tender as paper.
The spoonerism spun, an unplanned melody,
a spinning top of syllables and delight.
In their world, no error stood as error—
only music, only play, only wonder.
Their giggles climbed like vines,
reaching spaces no grown-up touched.
They carried the shiny mistake fondly,
a bright marble of momentary magic.