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Poetry

Poems can have many different purposes, e.g. to amuse, to entertain, to reflect, to convey information, to tell a story, to share knowledge or to
pass on cultural heritage. Some forms of poetry are associated with certain purposes, e.g. prayers to thank, celebrate, praise; advertising jingles to persuade; limericks to amuse.
What makes a good poem?

POETRYZONE: – a website where you can get your poems published! Click this link here for the POETRYZONE and send them your poems!

Read and enjoy more poetry HERE. There are great poems and some really funny poems too!

METAPHOR: Example:The sun IS a golden ball – or: The sun IS a golden sunflower.

PERSONIFICATION: The whispers of the darkness – The call of the night.

Similes: next image

The River Flows

The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks its fingers entwine
It grows and grows snakes like a vine.

The river with the soft scent of a calm day
With the smell of clean hanging still in the grey
And sweetness carried on the breath of morning
It caresses the river the waters flowing.

The river crystalline from winter melt
And sweet with the summer soon felt
It tastes of springtime the season between
And flows the river so blue and clean.

The river its lazy trickle of water
The musical rhythm the ocean’s daughter
It whispers and murmurs a song of its own
Playing over and over in continuous drone.

The river so clear and cool
The water flows the color like a jewel
Its soft arms embrace the shore
The river surging from the days before.

The river flows quiet and swift
It twists and turns as the waters drift
It branches and breaks its fingers in twine
It grows and grows snakes like a vine.

Kailey Jennings

My Brother is Still in His Bedroom

“My brother is still in his bedroom.
No doubt he’ll be getting up soon.
But last night he stayed up till midnight,
so maybe he’ll sleep until noon.

“I haven’t gone into his bedroom.
Whenever I do he gets mad.
If anyone woke him this morning,
I’m guessing it must have been dad.

“It’s probably best not to bug him.
I try to stay out of his way.”
Yes, that’s what I said when mom asked me
if I woke up grumpy today.

–Kenn Nesbitt

My Pet Germs

I have a half a billion germs
I keep as tiny pets.
They’re cute and clean and never mean
and give me no regrets.

They spend all day engaged in play
upon my skin and hair.
They’re on my clothes, between my toes
and in my underwear.

They dance and shout and bounce about.
They run and jump and slide.
My epidermis teems with germs
who party on my hide.

I never fret about the pets
inside my shirt and socks.
I love them there but wonder where
they keep their litter box?

–Kenn Nesbitt
A Poem written by ‘Jessica’ – from kidsonline.net

Mystery Meal
by Bruce Lansky

Great green globs of
greasy, grimy gopher guts,
mutilated monkey meat,
little birdies’ dirty feet.
Hot school lunches
arena fit for kids to eat.
So pass the ketchup, please.

Pizza topped with
rotten eggs and sauerkraut,
seven-week-old speckled trout.
Toss it at your friends and shout.
Start a food fight
you’ll get caught, without a doubt.
So pass the pepper, please.

Kenny Had a Camera
by Robert Pottle

Kenny had a camera and took pictures while we ate.
I thought it might be fun to use my food to decorate.
I grabbed a brown banana peel and used it for a wig,
dangled French fries from my nose and snorted like a pig.
I took some veggies from my tray and stuck them in my ears.
I knew that I looked funny and cause the room soon filled with cheers.
But best at being funny was my teacher, I suppose,
Because when she looked and laughed at me, milk came out her nose.

 

Block City – by Robert Louis Stevenson

This next poem is Amy’s poem – she was with us in Y6 in 2012! I would love Y5 to follow in Amy’s footsteps and write your own poem! Amy’s poem has been written on the day of the ‘storm’ – Monday 2/1/2012. See her blog link at the end of the poem.

The Storm

Leaves falling in a great wave,

People trying hard to be brave,

A gust of wind knocking me off my feet,

Oh no, – I`m struggling to breathe,

Swimming through the gushing stream,

First a peaceful stream,

Now a deadly, violent sea.

I can only hear,

The wind howling in my ears,

Lightening striking away ripe pears.

Trees dropping down like stones,

Leaves and mud swirling in cones,

It all suddenly calms for a moment,

Then in one huge dreadful hack,

THE STORM IS BACK.

AKB

Here is Amy’s blog link.

http://dash2012.edublogs.org

A POEM FROM SPACE!

I am halfway to Pluto and Earth doesn’t know
The trials of travel in space as we go

With thrust to our backs while we speed on our way
The blue dot of Earth becomes fainter each day

When earthly horizons slip from your view
The color of loneliness changes its hue

And a radio call to our mission control
Takes nearly a day to just say hello

Yet our boss back on Earth abstract from our flight
Has no understanding of our minds in this plight

The Siren’s of Space singing songs for our souls
Try to tempt us to ruin on the reef of black holes

The singing of songs in space is a dream
For better or worse, you can not hear a scream

Over eyes with wax patches, we resist Siren’s call
Thus avoiding the reef and escaping the fall

Our families back home make do while we’re gone
With or without us their life does go on

For the future of Earth and the human race
The final frontier we seek will be space

Our minds thus expand into places unknown
I am halfway to Pluto but never alone

Don Pettit

http://www.fragileoasis.org/blog/2012/3/a-poem-for-saturday-halfway-to-pluto/

MARATHON POEM – for 24 hours only!

This poem was posted by Brian Moses on his blog – for 24 hours only! – with this image. Enjoy his poem about the marathon runners!

Love to see all the fun runners in the London Marathon – here’s my poem about them!

Running the Marathon

I am going to run the marathon,
wearing a diving suit,
strapped to a parachute.
With a cloak and staff like Noah,
pushing a garden mower.
In a ballet dancer’s tutu,
cracking a cowboy’s lasso.
Yes, I am  going to run the marathon,
inside a suit of armour,
leading a Tibetan llama.
As an ancient prince from Khartoum,
in a Loch Ness Monster costume.
As Adam running from Eve,
or a camel from Tel Aviv.
Yes, I am going to run the marathon,
As a green and grotty ogre,
in an Imperial Roman toga.
As a bridegroom on his wedding day
or someone dressed to play croquet.
In a dragon costume from China,
as a luxury ocean liner.
Yes, I am going to run the marathon
and I want to get myself seen.
Although maybe, just maybe,
I think it might be best
to forget all these whacky ideas
and stick with shorts and vest!
From ‘Olympic Poems’ by Brian Moses & Roger Stevens (Macmillan)
Another poem by Amy! – her blog link is with the picture. Please visit her blog and leave her some positive comments about her poem.

Meela
Have you seen Meela
Queen of the sand
Her swishing dress
Her outstretched hand.

Have you seen Meela
Dancing around
Her silky hair flying
with each leap and bound.

Have you seen Meela
emerald green eyes
swirling and swaying
Queen of the tide.

Have you seen Meela
sweet and shining
the hot sun above
a maroon red lining.

Have you seen Meela
The sun dissapears
finishes its raid
A swish of a tail

Meela is a dancing mermaid.

– by: Amy

Picture: Amy -http://dash2012.edublogs.org/

This next poem is a poem I had to recite when I was about 8 in primary. I remember it so well and was so excited when I found it.

Choosing shoes

New shoes, new shoes,

Red and pink and blue shoes,

Tell me what would you choose

If they’d let us buy?

 

Buckle shoes, bow shoes,

Pretty pointy-toe shoes,

Strappy, cappy low shoes;

Let’s have some to try.

 

Bright shoes, white shoes,

Dandy dance-by-night shoes,

Perhaps-a-little-tight shoes;

Like some? So would I.

BUT

Flat shoes, fat shoes,

Stump-along-like-that shoes,

Wipe-them-on-the-mat shoes

Oh that’s the sort they’ll buy.

—Ffrida Wolfe.

A Poem by Shivam –

Walter Tull

No matter if you’re black

Everybody is still the same

In your life, everybody feels the same pain

Football, then the Army!

Both very big jobs

Money doesn’t count!

…but family and friends you love, that does!

 

Look at the sky

and you will rise –

Walter Tull

Everybody should believe he acted like the incredible Hulk

 

Death or Hero

might be sad!

Think of the peace we have

Walter Tull

saved our lives

he sacrificed his own life.

WALTER TULL

Poem by: Anaya

Played for his nation

Respected by people, rightfully

When war was declared,

he never stopped and stared…

Walter was a fan of football

Walter was a player of football…

Battled on the battlefield

– like a real British soldier.

–Anaya.

Walter Tull

I played for the nation

since I was a young boy

I lived near the station

and played with joy!

 

When Germany invaded France

I knew something was wrong!

When war was declared

I never stopped and stared

 

I was the only black man

No one else to fought with

I stayed strong and healthy

but was never wealthy

I always tried my best

to pass all the tests

and never gave up on anything

that was the best pass on a test

A great footballer, I was!

Young and strong to go to war

and died for my country, peace and freedom

—Kuljit

Walter Tull

Do you remember me?
I remember you!
Your name is Walter Tull
My long last pal!

Do you recognise me?
I recognise you!
Serving your body
to save our nation!

-Kuljit

WALTER TULL

Do you remember me?
I remember you!
Fighting for freedom
You had the pride of a lion!

Do you recognise me?
I recognise you!
Down in my heart,
I recall memories of you!

–Navkiran

A List poem – Y5’s have been writing a list poem on chapter 8 of Street Child. Here is one we all put together during a shared-write session.

Crept… invisible
hardly breathing!
tiptoed…darted
slicked like a cat
into a thin small shape
glided down the deep dark shadows
bursting and panting
into the hidden alley!
FREE at last…

Y5’s have been working on their RE display about Christianity and some Y5’s have written some lovely poems! Do enjoy their wonderful writing with us.

Jesus poem – by Harshaan

Jesus – you are full of love,
never below, but always above,
You’re so kind and very holy,
Always making us so happy and jolly.

You have so much kindness and pride,
to help us in our life,
If you weren’t here,
we wouldn’t able to hear,
The message You have for us,
We pray to you,
You give us food and everything we need!
Amen

Love is this 
Love is this
Love is that
You made the human fact!
If you weren’t here
We wouldn’t know
How to count
Or know the alphabet
123
ABC
Love is this
Love is that!
—Shivam—

JESUS
Jesus, You’re a wonderful God,
Everybody praises you a lot!

You gave us the teachings,
that we should do,
Now we learnt
what to do.

Jesus you are full of pride,
If you weren’t here,
we may die!

If you weren’t here,
The world would be dark,
Luckily, You are here,
Now there’s light!
—JEEVAN—

Jesus my grace

Jesus, Jesus, You make my day
You have the every right
You want us to pray

Let us repeat your name
and have your picture in the hall of fame
Let us all be equal and same!

You are special,
You are kind,
You are full of love –
all combined!

We believe in you,
because we know you’re true!
—GURSIMRAN—

A Victorian Poem

Little Mike

I am 3 years old and my name is mike
I live on the streets because I got no home
I’m angry and sad because my mum has just died.

I’m shivering, I’m freezing
I’m sooooooooo hungry
I’m rotting in my clothes so old
I want to be clean and warm.

I cry and moan all night long
I hate it here my mum aint home
I cry and cry and dream of my mum
Who says don’t worry son I’m here with you

The pram is wobbly I feel like I’m gonna fall
I don’t feel safe in here I’m gonna fall
Its rusty and old my heart has gone
I want my mum

I care I care I care
I really want my mum
Please, please, please
Ill beg on my knees

My brothers want to love me more
They know I’m upset and sore
My brothers cry as they see my cry
They try and make me laugh but it don’t work

Sleeping on the streets with no place to call home
No one to love me
No one to care
Dreaming of being in heaven with my mum.

by a pupil at The City of London Academy
Poem from this link

http://www.hiddenlives.org.uk/ycc/poems_and_stories/little_mike.html

Alliteration – see it in this lovely poem

Rain

Rain races onto the porch
Hitting hard like
Rockets rushing in a race to the glass.
Rattling rain, rattling the window panes.
The droplets dance daintily
Until they cleverly connect in
A pool of promise for a rainbow.

The Wonderful Wind

The wonderful wind whistles
Repeated reminders throughout the day
Telling tales of what is coming
Predicting and preparing us to pray.
The wise wind sometimes whispers
The secrets that have been secretly hid.

Poetry by Natasha Niemi

Twinkle Twinkle little start – 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,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And 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.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
How I wonder what you are.
How I wonder what you are.

The Witch’s Brew

Into my pot there now must go
Leg of a lamb and green frog’s toe,
Old man’s socks and dirty jeans,
A rotten egg and cold baked beans.
   Hubble bubble at the double
   Cooking pot stir up some trouble.
One dead fly and a wild wasp’s sting,
The eye of a sheep and the heart of a king.
A stolen jewel and mouldy salt,
And for good flavour a jar of malt.
   Hubble bubble at the double
Cooking pot stir up some trouble.
Wing of a bird and head of a mouse,
Screams and howls froma haunted house.
And don’t forget the pint of blood,
Or the sardine tin and the clod of mud.
   Hubble bubble at the double
   Cooking pot stir up some TROUBLE!

    by Wes Magee

Hand On The Bridge

Hand on the bridge,
Feel the rhythm of the train.
Hand on the window
Feel the rhythm of the rain.
Hand on your throat
Feel the rhythm of your talk
Hand on your leg
Feel the rhythm of your walk
Hand in the sea
Feel the rhythm of the tide
Hand on your heart
Feel the rhythm inside
Hand on the rhythm
Feel the rhythm of the rhyme
Hand on your life
Feel the rhythm of time
Hand on your life
Feel the rhythm of time
Hand on you life
Feel the rhythm of time.

–by Michael Rosen

The Child Who Was Wild

Once there was a woman, a young, young woman
She ran from the city, the old, old city
She ran to the woods, the deep dark woods

She wasn’t seen for days. Days, weeks and months.
She came out of the woods, the deep dark woods
She came with a child, a child who was wild.

She brought the child to the city, the old, old city
He grew and he grew and he grew and he grew
Out of his hands grew shoots: green shoots and leaves
Out of his shoulders grew the lily and the rose
His hair was the blossom that blows in the wind, 
He stood in the city, the old, old city 
with the leaves and the flowers and the blossom
falling, falling, falling on grey, grey gravel.

–Michael Rosen

Sound Collector by Roger McGough

http://www.bbc.co.uk/learningzone/clips/roger-mcgough-the-sound-collector-poem-only/8836.html

Brian Moses: Walking with my Iguana

http://www.poetryarchive.org/childrensarchive/singlePoem.do?poemId=52

Gran can you rap? – by Jack Ousbey

Gran was in her chair she was taking a nap
When I tapped her on the shoulder to see if she could rap.
Gran can you rap? Can you rap? Can you Gran?
And she opened one eye and she said to me, Man,
  I’m the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seen
  I’m a tip-top, slip-slap, rap-rap queen.

And she rose from the chair in the corner of the room
And she started to rap with a bim-bam-boom,
And she rolled up her eyes and she rolled round her head
And as she rolled by this is what she said,
  I’m the best rapping gran this world’s ever seen
  I’m a nip-nap, yip-yap, rap-rap queen.

Then she rapped past my Dad and she rapped past my mother,
She rapped past me and my little baby brother.
She rapped her arms narrow she rapped her arms wide,
She rapped through the door and she rapped outside.
    She’s the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seen
She’s a drip-drop, trip-trap, rap-rap queen.

She rapped down the garden she rapped down the street,
The neighbours all cheered and they tapped their feet.
She rapped through the traffic lights as they turned red
As she rapped round the corner this is what she said,
    I’m the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seen
    I’m a flip-flop, hip-hop, rap-rap queen.

She rapped down the lane she rapped up the hill,
And she disappeared she was rapping still.
I could hear Gran’s voice saying, Listen Man,
Listen to the rapping of the rap-rap Gran.
I’m the best rapping Gran this world’s ever seen
I’m a –
tip-top, slip-slap,
   nip-nap, yip-yap,
hip-hop, trip-trap,
    touch yer cap,
   take a nap,
    happy, happy, happy, happy,
    rap-rap-queen

It couldn’t be done

by Edgar Albert Guest

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done
      But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
      Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
      On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
      That couldn’t be done, and he did it!
Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
      At least no one ever has done it;”
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat
      And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
      Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
      That couldn’t be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
      There are thousands to prophesy failure,
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
      The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
      Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
      That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.
BFG-dreams – by Brian Moses
In a red jar
is a dream of strawberries
playing football for Arsenal.In a green jar
is a dream of peas
performing gymnastics in the Olympic stadium.In a yellow jar
is a dream of the sun
splashing in a pool of custard.

The Road Not Taken – by Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.



One Response to “Poetry”

  1. wow nice poems

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