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National Poetry Day - 8th October 2015

To celebrate National Poetry Day we listened to, read, wrote and performed poetry throughout the week. This year the theme was 'light' - 3V fittingly enjoyed their poetry reading to candlelight!

 

On Thursday every child took a poem home share with their family - we hope you enjoyed reading them together. If you missed them, here they are for you to enjoy again and again - like all good poems should be...smiley

 

Rain

Pitter Patter, hear it raining?

Slow at first, then faster, faster.

Put on your raincoat,

Hold up your umbrella,

Pull on your Wellingtons

And splash in the puddles.

 

Children clap hands slowly and lightly, gradually getting faster and louder.

They pretend to button up raincoats, open umbrellas and pull on Wellington boots.

They stamp their feet on the ground.

 

Lilian McCrea

 

From Night Monkey, Day Monkey

The moon shone down on the jungle.

Night Monkey climbed up the tree.

She clambered and leapt to where Day Monkey slept,

And whispered, “You can’t catch me.”

 

Day Monkey woke up and chased her,

But lost his grip on the bark.

He landed, cross, on a bed of moss,

Complaining, “It’s much too dark!”

 

“Look!” said Day Monkey. “Hundreds of eyes,

Winking and blinking and bright.”

Night Monkey laughed and said, “Don’t be daft,

They’re fireflies that flash in the night.”

 

 By Julia Donaldson

Extract from Night Monkey, Day Monkey 2002

 

 

Today I read a bus stop

Today I read a bus stop
and then I read a van,
a poster and three carrier bags,
some shop signs and a man
who had a crazy T-shirt on.

 

I'd already read he cereal box,
a mug, and the jam label
and the headlines of the paper
that was lying on the table.

 

I read some writing in the sky,
I even read the road,

a tree, a sign stuck in the grass,
some number plates that whistled past,

a bag of crisps, a birthday card,
(it had my name on it so that was easy).

 

I was reading a text message
when I should have read the door
so then I pushed instead of pulled
and dropped my mobile on the floor.

 

Then I started on the poem
and went out for another look

because reading is amazing
and all the world's a book.

by Kathy Henderson

 

The Sound Collector

A stranger called this morning
Dressed all in black and grey
Put every sound into a bag
And carried them away

 

The whistling of the kettle
The turning of the lock
The purring of the kitten
The ticking of the clocks

 

The popping of the toaster
The crunching of the flakes
When you spread the marmalade
The scraping noise it makes

 

The hissing of the frying pan
The ticking of the grill
The bubbling of the bathtub
As it starts to fill

 

The drumming of the raindrops
On the windowpane
When you do the washing-up
The gurgle of the drain

 

The crying of the baby
The squeaking of the chair
The swishing of the curtain
The creaking of the stair

 

A stranger called this morning
He didn't leave his name
Left us only silence
Life will never be the same

By Roger McGough

 


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