1
Years 3 and 4 Poetry Festival List
Contents
Title Page Number
The Day I Got My Finger Stuck Up My Nose by Brian Patten 3
Wellingtons by Gareth Owen 4
The Red Herring by George Macbeth 5
Mrs Goodwin’s Part-time Job by Marian Swinger 6
Three Girls by Michael Rosen 7
Transylvania Dreaming (cert PG) by Colin McNaughton 8
Disobedience by A A Milne 9
The Chickens by Anon 11
History by John Kitching 12
Roman Invasions by Celia Warren 13
Fat Cat by Roger Stevens 14
The Way Through The Woods by Rudyard Kipling 15
The Train by Clive Sansom 16
Voice from the Pharaoh’s Tomb by Patricia Leighton 17
Have You Met A Wolf? by James Carter 19
Walking To School by Stanley Cook 20
The Crocodile’s Brushing His Teeth by Colin McNaughton 21
A Liking For The Viking by Celia Warren 22
Little Raindrops by Jane Euphemia Browne 23
The Moon by Robert Louis Stevenson 24
Geography Lesson by Brian Patten 25
My Pet Mouse by David Whitehead 26
Performing Monkey by Joshua Seigal 27
Numberless! By Ian Souter 28
Big Red Boots by Tony Mitton 29
Behind the Staffroom Door by Brian Moses 30
The Day’s Eye by Pie Corbett 31
Chocolate in the House by Andy Seed 32
It’s a Wonderful World, but They Made a Few Mistakes by Judith Viorst 33
Snow by Jane Clarke 34
Extract from the Book of Ecclesiastes from King James Bible 35
Ladybird by Brian D‘Arcy 36
The Most Important Rap by Roger Stevens 37
Listen by Clare Bevan 39
An Alphabet for the Planet by Riad Nourallah 40
Friends by Gareth Owen 42
Remember by Christina Rossetti 44
Mathematically Telepathically Magical by Paul Cookson 45
Eddie in Bed by Michael Rosen 46
Children’s Prayer by John Foster 48
The Swing by Robert Louis Stevenson 49
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Now We Are Six by A A Milne 50
The Canary by Elizabeth Turner 51
The Rainbow by Christina Rossetti 52
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star by Jane Taylor 53
On the Grasshopper and the Cricket byJohn Keats 54
The Supply Teacher by Allan Ahlberg 55
Mind Your Manner by Bruce Lansky 56
All dogs once held a meeting by Anon 57
Picking teams by Allan Ahlberg 58
A Song of Toad by Kenneth Grahame 59
Purple Shoes by Irene Rawnsley 60
January Brings the Snow by Sara Coleridge 62
Scissors by Allan Ahlberg 63
Brother by Mary Ann Hoberman 64
Elephantasia by David Whitehead 65
3
The Day I Got My Finger Stuck Up My Nose by Brian Patten
When I got my finger stuck up my nose
I went to a doctor, who said,
‗Nothing like this has happened before,
We will have to chop off you head.‘
‗It‘s only my finger stuck up my nose,
It‘s only my finger!‘ I said.
‗I can see what it is,‘ the doctor replied,
‗But we‘ll still have to chop off your head.‘
He went to the cabinet. He took out an axe.
I watched with considerable dread.
‗But it‘s only my finger stuck up my nose.
It‘s only a finger!‘ I said.
‗Perhaps we can yank it out with a hook
Tied to some surgical thread.
Maybe we can try that,‘ he replied,
‗Rather that chop off your head.‘
‗I‘m never going to pick it again.
I‘ve now learned my lesson,‘ I said.
‗I won‘t stick my finger up my nose –
I‘ll stick it in my ear instead.‘
4
Wellingtons by Gareth Owen
I love the wild wet winter days
Of rain and slushy sleet
For it‘s then I fetch my Welligons
I mean my rubber Gellibongs
Oh dear I mean my Webbingtons
And pull them on my feet.
My sister Jane hates rainy days
The cold makes Mary cry
But me I‘ve got my Wellinbots
Oh dear I mean my Bellingwots
No no I mean my Welltingots
To keep me warm and dry.
But isn‘t it a nuisance
Isn‘t it a shame
That though I love you Wellibongs
I just can‘t say your name.
5
The Red Herring by George Macbeth
There was once a high wall, a bare wall. And
against this wall, there was a ladder,
a long ladder. And on the ground,
under the ladder, was a red
herring, a dry red herring.
And then a man came along. And in his hands
(they were dirty hands) this man had
a heavy hammer, a long nail,
(it was also a sharp nail) and
a ball of string. A thick ball of string.
All right. So the man climbed up
the ladder (right up to the top)
and knocked in the sharp nail:
spluk! Just like that.
Right on the top of the wall. The bare wall.
Then he dropped the hammer. It dropped
right down to the ground. And on to the nail
he tied a piece of string, a long
piece of string, and on to the string
he tied the red herring. The dry red herring.
And let it drop. And then he climbed
down the ladder (right down
to the bottom), picked up the hammer
and also the ladder (which was pretty heavy)
and went off. A long way off.
And since then, that red herring, the dry
red herring on the end of the string, which is
quite a long piece, has been
very, very slowly swinging and
swinging to a stop. A full stop.
I expect you wonder why I made
up this story, such a simple story. Well
I did it just to annoy people.
Serious people. And perhaps also
to amuse children. Small children.
6
Mrs Goodwin’s Part-time Job by Marian Swinger
It was just a part-time job
but the money wasn‘t bad
and it relieved a housewife‘s boredom
and stopped her going mad.
Of course it was top secret
and the family mustn‘t know.
She checked her space-time monitor.
It must be time to go.
‗Beam me up,‘ she bellowed,
‗the kids have gone to school,
and my husband‘s gone to work,
so beam me up, you fools
for the Zoorgs mass on the borders
and the Voorgs wait to attack
and I‘ve got to save the planet
before the kids get back.‘
A voice said, ‗OK Captain.
It shouldn‘t take a sec.‘
And in a trice, foot tapping,
she was standing on the deck
of a universe class starship,
twenty kilometres wide.
‗Full speed ahead, disintegrators
set to fire,‘ she cried.
The Voorgs fleet ran in terror,
the Zoorgs thought twice and fled.
‗And now let‘s save that planet
and the job‘s all done,‘ she said.
The beamed her down at home time
as her four kids clattered in.
She landed in the kitchen
in something of a spin
and started to peel carrots
with her space corps issue knife.
‗Poor Mum,‘ her children cackled,
‗what a boring life.‘
7
Three Girls by Michael Rosen
There were three girls and they were going for
a walk along the beach till they came to a cave.
One of the girls says, ―I‘m going in.‖
So she goes in.
When she gets in, she sees a pile of gold
sitting on the rocks, so she thinks, ―Yipee,
gold, all for me!‖ and she steps forward to
pick it up and a great big voice booms out,
―I‘m the ghost of Captain Cox.
All the gold stays on the rocks.‖
So the girl runs out of the cave.
The second girl goes in and she sees the gold
and she thinks, ―Yippee, gold, all for me!‖
and she steps forward to pick it up and the
great big voice booms out,
―I‘m the ghost of Captain Cox.
All that gold stays on the rocks.‖
So the girl runs out of the cave.
Then the third girl goes in and she sees
the gold and she thinks, ―Yippee, gold,
all for me!‖ and she steps forward to pick
it up and the great big voice goes,
―I‘m the ghost of Captain Cox.
All that gold stays on the rocks.‖
And the girl says,
―I don‘t care. I‘m the ghost of Davy Crocket
and all that gold goes in my pocket!‖
and she runs out of the cave with the gold.
8
Transylvania Dreaming (cert PG) by Colin McNaughton
In the middle of the night
When you‘re safe in bed
And the doors are locked
And the cats are fed
And it‘s much too bright
And sleep won‘t come
And there‘s something wrong
And you want your mum
And you hear a noise
And you see a shape
And it looks like a bat
Or a man in a cape
And you dare not breathe
And your heart skips a beat
And you‘re cold as ice
From your head to your feet
And you say a prayer
And you swear to be good
And you‘d run for your life
If you only could
And your eyes are wide
And stuck on stalks
As the thing in black
Towards you walks
And the room goes dark
And you faint clean away
And you don‘t wake up
Till the very next day…
And you open your eyes
And the sun is out
And you jump out of bed
And you sing and shout:
―It was only a dream!‖
And you dance round the room
And your heart is as light
As a helium balloon
And your mum rushes in
And says: ―Hold on a sec…
What are those two little
Holes in your neck?‖
9
Disobedience by A A Milne
James James
Morrison Morrison
Weatherby George Dupree
Took great
Care of his Mother,
Though he was only three.
James James
Said to his Mother,
―Mother,‖ he said, said he;
―You must never go down to the end of the town,
if you don‘t go down with me.‖
James James
Morrison‘s Mother
Put on a golden gown,
James James
Morrison‘s Mother
Drove to the end of the town.
James James
Morrison‘s Mother
Said to herself, said she:
―I can get right down to the end of the town and be
back in time for tea.‖
King John
Put up a notice,
―LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES
MORRISON‘S MOTHER
SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
LAST SEEN
WANDERING VAGUELY:
QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD,
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN TO THE END OF THE
TOWN – FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!‖
James James
Morrison Morrison
(Commonly known as Jim)
Told his
Other relations
Not to go blaming him.
James James
Said to his Mother,
―Mother,‖ he said, said he:
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―You must never go down to the end of the town
without consulting me.‖
James James
Morrison‘s Mother
Hasn‘t been heard of since.
King John
Said he was sorry,
So did the Queen and Prince.
King John
(Somebody told me)
Said to a man he knew:
―If people go down to the end of the town, well,
what can anyone do?‖
(Now then, very softly)
J. J.
M. M.
W. G. Du P.
Took great
Care of his M*****
Though he was only 3.
J. J.
Said to his M*****
―M*****,‖ he said, said he:
―You-must-never-go-down-to-the-end-of-the-town-
if-you-don‘t-go-down-with-ME!‖
11
The Chickens by Anon
Said the first little chicken
With a funny little squirm,
―I wish I could find
A fat little worm‖.
Said the next little chicken
With an odd little shrug.
―I wish I could find
A fat little slug‖.
Said the third little chicken,
With a sharp little squeal,
―I wish I could find
Some nice yellow meal‖.
Said the fourth little chicken,
With a small sigh of grief,
―I wish I could find
A little green leaf‖.
Said the fifth little chicken,
With a faint little moan,
―I wish I could find
A wee gravel stone‖.
―Now see here‖, said the mother,
From the green garden patch,
―If you want any breakfast
Just come here and scratch‖.
12
History by John Kitching
History
Is more than dusty, rusty pages
About crooked princes, queens and kings,
Or victims chained in cold and cruel prison cages.
History
Is more than the mystery
Of wars, other mighty causes
And painful pauses
For great black plagues and fires.
History
Is also your yesterday and mine.
It is our own comic and curious.
It is what made us small folk
Fearful, fierce and furious.
History
Is the blended thread
That binds the living to the dead.
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Roman Invasions by Celia Warren
BC 55
Julius Caesar,
Roman geezer,
Came to Britain,
Wasn‘t smitten,
Back to Gaul
After all.
AD 43
Emperor Claudius,
More maraudius,
Had his reasons,
Sent more legions.
They were stronger,
Stayed much longer,
Long enough
For roads and stuff,
Built some baths,
Had some laughs,
England greener
Greater, Cleaner!
14
Fat Cat by Roger Stevens
Our cat, Scampi,
Is a greedy cat,
And he gets fatter every day.
On Monday he squeezes
Through the cat flap.
On Tuesday he he squeeeezes
Through the cat flap.
On Wednesday he squeeeeeezes
Through the cat flap.
On Thursday he squeeeeeeeezes
Through the cat flap.
On Friday he squeeeeeeeeeezes
Through the cat flap.
On Saturday he squeeeeeeeeeeeezes
Through the cat flap.
On Sunday he squeeeeee
He squeeeeee
He squeeeeeeeee
On Sunday he stays outside!
15
The Way Through The Woods by Rudyard Kipling
They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few)
You will hear the beat of a horse‘s feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods…
But there is no road through the woods.
16
The Train by Clive Sansom
The train goes running along the line
Jicketty-can, jicketty-can.
I wish it were mine, I wish it were mine.
Jicketty-can, jicketty-can.
The engine driver stands in front,
He makes it run, he makes it shunt;
Out of the town,
Out of the town,
Over the hill,
Over the down,
Under the bridge,
Across the lea,
Over the ridge
And down by the sea,
With a Jicketty-can, jicketty-can,
Jicketty-jicketty-jicketty-can.
Jicketty-can, jicketty-can.
17
Voice from the Pharaoh’s Tomb by Patricia Leighton
Chill winds across the desert probe
The night-dark entrance to a tomb
And metres deep within stone walls,
Beyond the ears of gods and men,
A spirit voice cries out.
‘How many years have I lain here?
I cannot tell, I cannot tell.
Have only known the pain of theft
From my first journey here till now,
Abandoned and bereft.
Even the gods deserted me.
They, too, were thieves; they too, took all.
They took my sun, my life, my joys,
Laughter of children still to come,
Dream upon dream snuffed out.
Within four coffins shut me tight,
Each tomb a treasure trove of jewels:
Cornelian, quartz, cool ivory,
Bright blue of
Lapis lazuli.
Collars of gold to shackle me,
Silks of deceit to clothe my corpse,
Great masks pressed close against my face,
Darkness to dull the memory
Of all that life had been –
The sun’s warm touch upon my skin,
The Nile’s soft breezes on my cheek;
My favourite hunting dog unleashed,
Flurry of birds flushed from the reeds,
The boatman’s echoing cry –
Chattels were all they left me,
Room upon room in crazy piles:
Gold thrones and chariots, walking sticks,
Sceptres and stools, rare amulets,
Sad bunches of dried flowers.
And these, my cats, which long ago
Wrapped sinuous bodies round my feet,
And purred and preened and licked my hand,
18
Are brittle skeletons worn thin
Within grey rotting bands.
Even these dusty memories
Men have removed, men have erased.
Cold walls close in on empty space,
My soul can find no place to rest,
my spirit no release’.
Weak curses from dark shadows seep,
They wither on the desert air.
And deep within a barren tomb
A boy – a king – weeps golden tears.
Tutankhamen*.
(*Tutankhamen: say Toot-AN-ka-MOON )
19
Have You Met A Wolf? by James Carter
A white wolf
At night wolf
Beneath a moon
So bright a wolf
Did you have a fright wolf?
Have you met a wolf?
A grey wolf
A stray wolf
Half-way through
The day wolf
Did you run away wolf?
Have you met a wolf?
A brown wolf
A proud wolf
Letting out
A growl wolf
Did you hear it howwwl wolf?
Have you met a wolf?
A green wolf
A lean wolf
Looking wild
And mean wolf
Was it just a dream wolf?
Have you ever
Maybe never
Try remember…
Have you met a wolf?
20
Walking To School by Stanley Cook
This is the road down which I go
Early to school every day
And these are the houses on the way
Parading in a long straight row.
This is the house of the motoring man
And the car he is mending sits
Without its wheels on piles of bricks
And he‘s taken the engine out of his van.
This is the house with a big wide drive
With a friendly retriever
Who wags his tail to greet you
And comes to the road to watch you arrive.
This is the house you can hardly see
Among so many lofty trees
That rise in the air like fountains of leaves
And who lives there‘s a mystery to me.
This is the house my friend lives in:
If he sees me coming he‘ll wait
Hiding behind his garden gate
And try to frighten me out of my skin.
This is the wooden bungalow
Where a seagull far from the sea
Calls from his perch on top of the chimney
And scolds the people down below.
This is the house with the rocky pool,
A little windmill, a wooden bridge
And a gnome who fishes at the water‘s edge
And here next to it is the gate to school.
21
The Crocodile’s Brushing His Teeth by Colin McNaughton
The Crocodile‘s brushing his teeth, I‘m afraid
This certainly means we‘re too late…
The Crocodile‘s brushing his teeth, I‘m afraid
He has definitely put on some weight.
The Crocodile‘s brushing his teeth, I‘m afraid
It really is, oh, such a bore.
The Crocodile‘s brushing his teeth, I‘m afraid
He appears to have eaten class four!
22
A Liking For The Viking by Celia Warren
I‘ve always had a liking for a Viking;
His handsome horns, his rough and ready ways;
His rugged russet hair beneath his helmet
In those metal-rattle, battle-happy days.
I‘ve always had a longing for a longboat;
To fly like a dragon through the sea
To peaceful evenings round a real fire,
Alive with legends; rich with poetry.
I‘ve always had a yearning for the burning
Of brave flames irradiating valour;
For the fiery longboat carrying its Chieftain
To his final feast in glorious Valhalla.
23
Little Raindrops by Jane Euphemia Browne
Oh, where do you come from,
You little drops of rain,
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
Down the window pane?
They won‘t let me walk,
And they won‘t let me play.
And they won‘t let me go
Out of doors at all today.
They put away my playthings
Because I broke them all,
And then they locked up my bricks,
And took away my ball.
Tell me, little raindrops,
Is that the way you play,
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
All the rainy day?
They say I‘m very naughty,
But I‘ve nothing else to do
But sit here at the window;
I should like to play with you.
The little raindrops cannot speak,
But ―pitter patter pat‖
Means, ―We can play on this side,
Why can‘t you play on that?‖
24
The Moon by Robert Louis Stevenson
The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;
She shines on thieves on the garden wall.
On streets and fields and harbour quays,
And birdies asleep in the forks of trees.
The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,
The howling dog by the door of the house,
The bat that lies in bed at noon,
All love to be out by the light of the moon.
But all of the things that belong to the day
Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;
And flowers and children close their eyes
Till up in the morning the sun shall arise.
25
Geography Lesson by Brian Patten
Our teacher told us one day he would leave
And sail across a warm blue sea
To places he had only known form maps,
And all his life had longed to be.
The house he lived in was narrow and grey
But in his mind‘s eye he could see
Sweet-scented jasmine clinging to walls,
And green leaves burning on an orange tree.
He spoke of the lands he longed to visit,
Where it was never drab or cold.
I couldn‘t understand why he never left,
And shook off the school‘s stranglehold.
Then halfway through his final term
He took ill and never returned.
He never got to that place on the map
Where the green leaves of the orange trees burned.
The maps were redrawn on the classroom wall;
His name forgotten, he faded away.
But a lesson he never knew he taught
Is with me to this day.
I travel to where the green leaves burn,
To where the ocean‘s glass-clear and blue,
To places our teacher taught me to love –
And which he never knew.
26
My Pet Mouse by David Whitehead
I have a friendly little mouse,
He is my special pet.
I keep him safely on a lead.
I haven‘t lost him yet.
I never need to feed him,
Not even bits of cheese.
He‘s never chased by any cat
And he does just as I please.
He likes it when I stroke him
For he‘s smooth and grey and fat.
He helps me sometimes with my games,
When he runs around my mat.
I‘ve never ever known a mouse
That could really be much cuter.
He‘s my extra special electric mouse
That works my home computer.
27
Performing Monkey by Joshua Seigal
I‘m not a performing monkey
I don‘t live in the zoo
I‘m not a performing monkey
I don‘t go OO! OO! OO!
I‘m not a performing monkey
I don‘t swing in a tree
I‘m not a performing monkey
I don‘t go OO-EE-EEH!
I‘m not a performing monkey
I‘m not a go-rill-a
I‘m not a performing monkey
I don‘t go OO-AH-AH!
I‘m not a performing monkey
I don‘t live in the zoo
But as a special treat
I‘ll say this poem
Just for you!
28
Numberless! By Ian Souter
If all the numbers in the world were
Rubbed out,
Removed,
Taken away:
I wouldn‘t know how old I was,
I wouldn‘t know the time of day,
I wouldn‘t know which bus to catch,
I wouldn‘t know the number of goals I had scored,
I wouldn‘t know how many scoops of ice cream I had,
I wouldn‘t know my phone number,
I wouldn‘t know the page on my reading book,
I wouldn‘t know how tall I was,
I wouldn‘t know how much I weighed,
I wouldn‘t know how many sides there are in a hexagon,
I wouldn‘t know how many days in the month,
I wouldn‘t be able to work my calculator.
And I wouldn‘t be able to play hide and seek!
But I would know,
As far as my mum was concerned,
I was still her NUMBER ONE!
29
Big Red Boots by Tony Mitton
Big red boots, big red boots.
One of them squeaks and the other one toots.
One of them hops and the other one stamps.
Big red boots take long, wet tramps.
Boots, boots, big red boots.
One of them squeaks and the other one toots.
Big red boots on busy little feet
Start out shiny, clean and neat.
Big red boots, oh, yes, yes, yes,
End up muddy in a terrible mess.
Boots, boots, big red boots.
One of them squeaks and the other one toots.
Big red boots, big red boots,
Squelch through mud and trample roots.
Big red boots say, ―Look! Oh gosh!
What a great puddle there… Yay! SPLOSH!‖
30
Behind the Staffroom Door by Brian Moses
Ten tired teachers slumped in the staffroom at playtime,
One collapsed when the coffee ran out, then there were nine.
Nine tired teachers making lists of things they hate,
One remembered playground duty, then there were eight.
Eight tired teachers thinking of holidays in Devon,
One slipped off to pack his case, then there were seven.
Seven tired teachers, weary of children‘s tricks,
One hid in the stock cupboard, then there were six.
Six tired teachers, under the weather, barely alive,
One gave an enormous sneeze, then there were five.
Five tired teachers, gazing at the open door,
One made a quick getaway, then there were four.
Four tired teachers, faces lined with misery,
One locked herself in the ladies, then there were three.
Three tired teachers, wondering what to do,
One started screaming when the bell rang, then there were two.
Two tired teachers, thinking life really ought to be fun,
One was summoned to see the Head, then there was one.
One tired teacher caught napping in the afternoon sun,
Fled quickly from the staffroom, then there were none.
31
The Day’s Eye by Pie Corbett
The sun rises,
Surprises the weary night,
Like a sudden joke.
Daylight.
The sun gleams,
Beams kindly heat
Like an oven‘s plate.
Streets sweat.
The sun sneaks,
Peeks through misty cloud,
Like a sly thief,
Alone in the crowd.
The sun sleeps,
Creeps into cool shade,
Like a honey cat.
Shadows fade.
The sun slips,
Dips into night,
Like a closing mouth,
Swallowing light.
32
Chocolate in the House by Andy Seed
There‘s chocolate in the house,
I hear it calling me.
There‘s chocolate in the house,
I can‘t stay away.
There‘s chocolate in the house,
It‘s drawing me near.
There‘s chocolate in the house,
To resist is useless.
There‘s chocolate in the house,
I‘ll just go and see what kind it is.
There‘s chocolate in the house,
It‘s a good kind.
There‘s chocolate in the house,
I‘ll just try a bit.
There‘s chocolate in the house,
Mmmmm,
There‘s chocolate in the house,
Smooth and creamy…
There‘s no chocolate in the house.
33
It’s a Wonderful World, but They Made a Few Mistakes by Judith Viorst
It‘s a wonderful world, but they made a few mistakes.
Like leaving out unicorns and putting in snakes.
Like no magic carpets, no wishing wells, no genies.
Like good guys getting picked on by the meanies.
Like arithmetic, especially multiplication.
Like expecting a person to stay at home for one whole week
with a sitter while that person‘s mother and father take a
vacation.
Like needing to finish the green beans to get to dessert.
Like everyone caring way too much about dirt.
Like letting there be a cavity in a tooth.
Like calling it a lie when all that this person has done is not
mention part of the truth.
Like raining on soccer games, and liver for supper.
Like bunk beds where the younger person always gets stuck
with the lower and the older person always gets the upper.
Like leaving out mermaids and putting in splinters and bee
stings and wars and tornadoes and stomach aches.
It‘s a wonderful world, but they make a few mistakes.
34
Snow by Jane Clarke
White snow,
Bright snow,
Silent in the night snow.
Crystal petal
Snowflakes settle.
Sparkle in the light snow.
Deep snow,
Heaped snow,
Leap about and sweep snow.
Snowmen, snowballs,
Snowdrifts, snowfalls.
Hands and feet aglow snow.
Cold snow,
Old snow,
Melting as you hold snow.
Icy, slushy,
Dirty, mushy…
Time for you to go, snow.
35
Extract from the Book of Ecclesiastes from King James Bible
To every thing there is a season,
And a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.
36
Ladybird by Brian D‘Arcy
Ladybird, ladybird,
So tiny and bright,
I wonder, I wonder,
Where you sleep at night.
Ladybird, ladybird,
So easily seen,
I wonder, I wonder,
Why red and not green.
Ladybird, ladybird,
At home in the sky,
I wonder, I wonder,
When you learnt to fly.
Ladybird, ladybird,
When Winter draws near,
I wonder, I wonder,
Why you disappear.
Ladybird, ladybird,
In so many ways, you‘re
a wonder, a wonder,
that brightens my days.
37
The Most Important Rap by Roger Stevens
I am an astronaut
I circle the stars
I walk on the moon
I travel to Mars
I‘m brave and tall
There is nothing I fear
And I am the most important person here.
I am a teacher
I taught you it all
I taught you why your
Spaceship doesn‘t fall
If you couldn‘t read or write
Where would you be?
The most important person here is me.
Who are you kidding?
Are you taking the mick?
Who makes you better
When you‘re feeling sick?
I am a doctor
And I‘m always on call
And I am more important than you all.
But I am your mother
Don‘t forget me
If it wasn‘t for your mother
Where would you be?
I washed your nappies
And changed your vest
I‘m the most important
And mummy knows best.
I am a child
And the future I see
And there‘d be no future
If it wasn‘t for me
I hold the safety
Of the planet in my hand
I‘m the most important
And you‘d better understand.
Now just hold on
I‘ve a message for you all
Together we stand
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And divided we fall
So let‘s make a circle
And all remember this
Who‘s the most important?
Everybody is.
Who‘s the most important?
EVERYBODY IS!
39
Listen by Clare Bevan
Listen.
Far away, the snort of a camel,
The swish of boots in the endless sand,
The whisper of silk and the clatter of ceremonial swords,
Far away.
Listen.
Not so far, the slam of the castle door,
A cry of rage on the midnight air,
A jangle of spurs and the cold thrust of a soldier‘s command.
Not so far.
Listen.
Closer now, the homely bleat of a ewe among the grasses,
The answering call of her lamb, fresh born,
The rattle of stones on a hillside path,
Closer now.
Listen.
Closer still, the murmur of women in the dark,
The kindly creak of a stable door,
The steady breathing of the sleepy beasts,
Closer still.
Listen.
So close you are almost there,
The singing of the start,
The soundless flurry of wings,
The soft whimper of a child amongst the straw.
So close you are almost there.
40
An Alphabet for the Planet by Riad Nourallah
A for air.
The gentle breeze by which we live.
B for bread.
A food to bake, and take – and give.
C for climate.
It can be warm, it can be cold…
D for dolphin.
A smiling friend no net should hold.
E for Earth.
Our ship through space, and home to share.
F for family.
Which also mean people everywhere.
G for green.
Colour of life we‘ll help to spread.
H for healthy.
Happy and strong, no fumes with lead.
I for ivory.
The elephant‘s tusks, his own to keep.
J for jungle.
A rainforest. No axe should creep.
K for kindly.
To everyone, gentle and good.
L for life.
It fills the sea and town and wood.
M for mother.
She may feel hurt, but loves us all.
N for nest.
A tiny home for chicks so small.
O for Ozone.
It shields our Earth from harmful rays.
P for peace.
‗My happy dream,‘ the Planet says.
Q for quiet.
Where no loud noise can get at you.
R for recycled.
Old cans and cards as good as new.
S for Sun.
The nearest star. It gives us light.
T for tree.
A grander plant, a green delight.
U for united.
Working as one to put it right.
V for victory.
Winning over disease and war.
W for water.
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The whole earth drinks when rainclouds pour.
X for Xylophone.
Music from wood – the high notes soar!
Y for yummy.
Those tasty fruits ‗organically grown‘.
Z for zoo.
A cage, a condor – sad, alone.
42
Friends by Gareth Owen
When first I went to school
I walked with Sally.
She carried my lunch pack,
Told me about a book she‘s read
With a handsome hero
So I said,
‗You be my best friend‘.
After break I went right off her.
I can‘t say why
And anyway I met Joan
Who‘s pretty with dark curls
And we sat in a corner of the playground
And giggled about the boy who brought the milk.
Joan upset me at lunch,
I can‘t remember what she said actually,
But I was definitely upset
And took up with Hilary
Who‘s frightfully brilliant and everything
And showed me her history
Which I considered very decent.
The trouble with Hilary is
She has to let you know how clever she is
And I said,
‗You‘re not the only one who‘s clever you know,‘
And she went all quiet and funny
And hasn‘t spoken to me since.
Good riddance I say
And anyway Linda is much more my type of girl;
She does my hair in plaits
And says how pretty I look,
She really says what she thinks
And I appreciate that.
Nadine said she was common
When we saw her on the bus that time
Sitting with three boys from another school,
And I had to agree
There was something in what she said.
There‘s a difference between friendliness
And being cheap
And I thought it my duty
To tell her what I thought.
Well she laughed right in my face
And then pretended I wasn‘t there
So I went right of her.
If there‘s one thing I can‘t stand
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It‘s being ignored and laughed at.
Nadine understood what I meant,
Understood right away
And that‘s jolly nice in a friend.
I must tell you one thing about her,
She‘s rather a snob.
I get the feeling
She looks down on me
And she‘ll never come to my house
Though I‘ve asked her thousands of times.
I thought it best to have it out with her
And she went off in a huff
Which rather proved my point
And I considered myself well rid.
At the moment
I walk home on my own
But I‘m keeping my eyes open
And when I see somebody I consider suitable
I‘ll befriend her.
44
Remember by Christina Rossetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you‘d plann‘d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
45
Mathematically Telepathically Magical by Paul Cookson
Think of a number from one to ten,
Any one will do.
Are you ready with your number then…
Multiply it by two.
Once you have the answer
Add another six.
Have you got this total?
Here‘s what you do next…
Halve the total you have got
(and this is the magical mystery)
Subtract the number you first thought of
And your answer must be… three!
It‘s mathematically telepathically magical you see.
It works with any number from one right up to ten.
Carefully follow each of the steps, your answer‘s always three.
Think of another number and try it again and again.
46
Eddie in Bed by Michael Rosen
Sometimes I look really tired,
Because you see
When most people are fast asleep
And I‘m fast asleep
I hear,
‗waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa‘.
That‘s the baby, Eddie.
So I get out of bed and go into his room
And he‘s sitting up in bed
And he has these nightmares.
Not nightmares like you have,
Like Dracula biting your head off or something.
He has nightmares about people taking food away from him.
So one night I go in there
And he‘s sitting up in bed
Lifting his arms above his head
And banging them down
Screaming,
‗I want my biscuits I want my biscuits‘.
Now if you can imagine that,
You can also imagine
That at this time he was sleeping
in the same bed as his brother.
Who was six.
And you have to imagine his brother‘s head
Is right next to Eddie‘s hip.
Think about it.
Eddie‘s hands go above his head and
Wham
Down by his side
Right on Joe‘s nut.
‗I want my biscuits I want my biscuits‘.
So Joe lifts his head and he goes,
‗What‘s going on?‘
Wham
‗I want my biscuits.‘
‗What‘s going on?‘
Wham
‗I want my biscuits.‘
‗What‘s going on?‘
Wham
‗I want my biscuits.‘
‗Stop it, Eddie‘ – wham back
‗I want my biscuits.‘
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Wham.
‗OK, fellas,‘ I say,
‗Cut it out‘.
And I lift Eddie up and take him into our bed.
What a stupid thing to do.
You see
Most people sleep with their head
On the pillow
And their feet at the other end of the bed.
When Eddie comes into our bed
He sleeps with his head next to Susanna‘s head
And his feet in my ear.
And you have to imagine those feet
Sticking in my ear.
And the toes.
Those toes are going
Wiggle wiggly wiggly
Down my ear.
All night.
So by the time I get up
In the morning
I‘m very tired
And very cross.
But I can always get my own back on him
In the morning
Cos he hates having his nappy done…
48
Children’s Prayer by John Foster
Let the teacher of our class
Set us tests that we all pass.
Let them never ever care
About what uniform we wear
Let them always clearly state
It‘s OK if your homework‘s late.
Let them say it doesn‘t matter
When we want to talk and chatter.
Let our teachers shrug and grin
When we make an awful din.
Let them tell us every day
There are no lessons. Go and play.
Let them tell out mum and dad
We‘re always good and never bad.
Let them write in their report
We are the best class they have ever taught!
49
The Swing by Robert Louis Stevenson
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside—
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
50
Now We Are Six by A A Milne
When I was one,
I had just begun.
When I was two,
I was nearly new.
When I was three,
I was hardly me.
When I was four,
I was not much more.
When I was five,
I was just alive.
But now I am six,
I'm as clever as clever.
So I think I'll be six
now and forever.
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The Canary by Elizabeth Turner
Mary had a little bird,
With feathers bright and yellow,
Slender legs-upon my word,
He was a pretty fellow!
Sweetest notes he always sung,
Which much delighted Mary;
Often where his cage was hung,
She sat to hear Canary.
Crumbs of bread and dainty seeds
She carried to him daily,
Seeking for the early weeds,
She decked his palace gaily.
This, my little readers, learn,
And ever practice duly;
Songs and smiles of love return
To friends who love you truly.
52
The Rainbow by Christina Rossetti
Boats sail on the rivers,
And ships sail on the seas;
But clouds that sail across the sky
Are prettier than these.
There are bridges on the rivers,
As pretty as you please;
But the bow that bridges heaven,
And overtops the trees,
And builds a road from earth to sky,
Is prettier far than these.
53
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star by Jane Taylor
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Then the traveller in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
How could he see where to go,
If you did not twinkle so?
In the dark blue sky you keep,
Often through my curtains peep
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveller in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
54
On the Grasshopper and the Cricket byJohn Keats
The Poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper‘s—he takes the lead
In summer luxury,—he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket‘s song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper‘s among some grassy hills.
55
The Supply Teacher by Allan Ahlberg
Here's the rule for what to do
If ever your teacher has the flu
Or for some other reason takes to her bed
And a different teacher comes instead
When the visiting teacher hangs up her hat
Writes the date on the board, does this or that
Always remember, you have to say this,
OUR teacher never does that, Miss!
When you want to change places or wander about
Or feel like getting the guinea pig out
Never forget, the message is this,
OUR teacher always lets us, Miss!
Then, when your teacher returns next day
And complains about the paint or clay
Remember these words, you just say this:
That OTHER teacher told us to, Miss!
56
Mind Your Manner by Bruce Lansky
Don‘t drum on the table.
Don‘t play with your food.
Don‘t talk while you‘re chewing;
it‘s terribly rude.
Don‘t leave the fridge open.
Don‘t slam the screen door.
Don‘t throw dirty laundry
all over the floor.
Don‘t fight with your brother.
Don‘t pull the cat‘s tail.
Don‘t open your big sister‘s
personal mail.
Don‘t pester your parents.
Don‘t stick out your tongue.
Don‘t do what your parents did
when they were young.
57
All dogs once held a meeting by Anon
All dogs once held a meeting, they came from near and far
Some came by train, some walked, and others came by car
But before they got inside the hall and were allowed to take a look
They had to take their rear ends off and hang them on a hook
Then into the hall they went....the mother, son and sire
Hardly were they seated when some "mongrel" hollered FIRE!
So out the door they ran, all in a mixed up bunch...no time to really look
Each one grabbed a rear-end, swiftly and at random, off the hallway hook
They got their rear-ends all mixed up, which made them awful sore
To think they didn't have the one, they'd always had before!
And that's the reason you will see, when you go down the street
Each dog will stop to swap a smell, with every dog they meet
That's the reason why, a dog will leave a nice fat bone
To go and smell a rear-end.....'cause he hopes to find his own!
58
Picking teams by Allan Ahlberg
When we pick teams in the playground,
Whatever the game might be,
There‘s always somebody left till last
And usually it‘s me.
I stand there looking hopeful
And tapping myself on the chest,
But the captains pick the others first,
Starting, of course, with the best.
Maybe if teams were sometimes picked
Starting with the worst,
Once in his life a boy / girl like me
Could end up being first!
59
A Song of Toad by Kenneth Grahame
The world has held great Heroes,
As history-books have showed;
But never a name to go down to fame
Compared to that of Toad!
The clever men at Oxford
Know all there is to be knowed.
But they none of them know one half as much
As intelligent Mr Toad!
The animals sat in the ark and cried,
Their tears in torrents flowed.
Who was it said, ‗There‘s land ahead‘?
Encouraging Mr Toad!
The Army all saluted
As they marched along the road.
Was it the King? Or Kitchener?
No. It was Mr Toad.
The Queen and her ladies-in-waiting
Sat at the window and sewed.
She cried, ‗Look! Who‘s that handsome man?‘
They answered, ‗Mr Toad.‘
The motor-car went Poop-poop-poop
As it raced along the road.
Who was it steered it into a pond?
Ingenious Mr Toad!
60
Purple Shoes by Irene Rawnsley
Mum and me had a row yesterday,
a big, exploding
howdareyouspeaktomelikethatI‘mofftostayatGran‘s
kind of row.
It was about shoes.
I‘d seen a pair of purple ones at Carter‘s,
heels not too high, soft suede, silver buckles;
‗No‘ she said
‗Not suitable for school.
I can‘t afford to buy rubbish.‘
That‘s when we had our row.
I went to bed longing for those shoes.
They made footsteps in my mind,
kicking up dance dust;
I wore them in my dreams across a shiny floor,
under flashing coloured lights.
It was ruining my life not to have them.
This morning they were mines.
Mum relented and gave me the money.
I walked out of the store wearing new purple
shoes.
I kept seeing myself reflected in shop windows
with purple shoes on,
61
walking to the bus stop,
walking the whole length of our street
wearing purple shoes.
On Monday I shall go to school in purple shoes.
Mum will say no a thousand furious times
But I don‘t care.
I‘m not going to give in.
62
January Brings the Snow by Sara Coleridge
January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes sharp and shrill,
Shakes the dancing daffoldil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy dams.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children‘s hands with posies.
Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Brown October brings the pheasant,
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves go whirling past.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire and Christmas treat.
63
Scissors by Allan Ahlberg
Nobody leave the room.
Everybody listen to me.
We had ten pairs of scissors
At half-past two,
And now there‘s only three.
Seven pairs of scissors
Disappeared from sight.
Not one of you leaves
Till we find them
We can stop here all night!
Scissors don‘t lose themselves,
Melt away or explode.
Scissors have not got
Legs of their own
To go running off up the road.
We really need those scissors,
That‘s what makes me mad.
If it was seven pairs
Of children we‘d lost,
It wouldn‘t be so bad.
I don‘t want to hear excuses.
Don‘t anyone speak.
Just ransack this room
Till we find them,
Or we‘ll stop here…all week!
64
Brother by Mary Ann Hoberman
I had a little brother
And I brought him to my mother
And I said I want another
Little brother for a change.
But she said don‘t be a bother
So I took him to my father
And I said this little bother
Of a brother‘s very strange.
But he said one little brother
Is exactly like another
And every little brother
Misbehaves a bit he said.
So I took the little brother
From my mother and my father
And I put the little bother
Of a brother back to bed.
65
Elephantasia by David Whitehead
If an elephant wore big rubber boots –
Would it be a Wellyphant?
Or if one was raspberry red and wobbly –
Could it be a Jellyphant?
If you saw one on a TV show –
Might it be a Telephant?
What if an elephant never had a shower -
Would he be a Smellyphant?
Or if one got so very, very fat –
Might we say – Pot-bellyphant?
Do you think we‘ll ever, ever know?
No, not on your Nelly-phant!