Forty happy school children
With Frisbees for a plate
Scarfing down PB & J,
To play they cannot wait.

Chasing down the wrappers,
Running in the sun,
With florescent Frisbees,
Gonna have some fun.

Forty Frisbees, forty kids
Upon a feild of green
Is there anything more idyllic
You have lately seen?

Suzy comes up running,
Screaming, “Tommy’s being mean!”
Tom is running after yelling,
“I’m sorry!  Ours both are green!”

Little Michael wails like thunder.
His blue frisbee shattered,
When Johnny ran across it–
And the color reallly mattered.

Betty fired off her red one
Like a rifle shot,
Clipped Joey on the ear
With everything she’d got.

When she was questioned,
She swore twas self defense,
Cause Joe had rudely threatened
To throw her frisbee o’er the fence.

At last all kids and frisbees
Are loaded on the bus,
Till another yearly tradition
Kicks up another fuss.