Half Term Poetry Recital...Adventures of Isabel Isabel met an enormous bear, Isabel, Isabel,...
Transcript of Half Term Poetry Recital...Adventures of Isabel Isabel met an enormous bear, Isabel, Isabel,...
Half Term Poetry Recital
For the past three years during the May half term, we have asked every
child in the school to learn a poem of their choice off by heart.
We realise there are many additional pressures at the moment, but
thought some of you may still like something to keep you occupied during
the half term break.
Your choice of poem is entirely up to you: it could be long or short, serious
or silly. Find one you like and have fun preparing it.
Below, you will find some poems which you might like to use, however, you
can select a poem of your own if you’d prefer.
If you want to find a poem online, make sure you have parental supervision
as usual. A good place to start is www.childrenspoetryarchive.org where
you can search for poems and hear poets reciting their own work.
Top tips when reciting your poem:
The best way to learn a poem is not to try and do it all at once.
Little and often, line by line is often the best approach.
Your voice should be clear and heard by all.
Look at your audience as much as possible.
Make sure you have expression and intonation in your voice.
Vary volume and pace for effect.
Use dramatic pauses.
You might like to move around when you recite your poem.
Make sure you can pronounce all the words in the poem.
When you are ready to perform, ask an adult at home to record you
performing your poem and then upload it on to Dojo.
Good luck!
To Catch a Fish
It takes more than a wish
to catch a fish
you take the hook
you add the bait
you concentrate
and then you wait
you wait you wait
but not a bite
the fish don’t have
an appetite
so tell them what
good bait you’ve got
and how your bait
can hit the spot
this works a whole
lot better than
a wish
if you really
want to catch
a fish
Eloise Greenfield
Adventures of Isabel
Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was
ravenous,
The bear’s big mouth was cruel and
cavernous.
The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you,
How do, Isabel, now I’ll eat you!
Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry.
Isabel didn’t scream or scurry.
She washed her hands and she
straightened her hair up,
Then Isabel quietly ate the bear up.
Ogden Nash
Colour
What is pink? A rose is pink
By a fountain's brink.
What is red? A poppy's red
In its barley bed.
What is blue? The sky is blue
Where the clouds float thro'.
What is white? A swan is white
Sailing in the light.
What is yellow? Pears are yellow,
Rich and ripe and mellow.
What is green? The grass is green,
With small flowers between.
What is violet? Clouds are violet
In the summer twilight.
What is orange? Why, an orange,
Just an orange!
Christina Rossetti
The Elf and the Dormouse
Under a toadstool crept a wee Elf,
Out of the rain to shelter himself.
Under the toadstool, sound asleep,
Sat a big Dormouse all in a heap.
Trembled the wee Elf, frightened and
yet
Fearing to fly away lest he get wet.
To the next shelter—maybe a mile!
Sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee
smile.
Tugged till the toadstool toppled in
two.
Holding it over him, gaily he flew.
Soon he was safe home, dry as could
be.
Soon woke the Dormouse—’Good
gracious me!
‘Where is my toadstool?’ loud he
lamented.
—And that’s how umbrellas first were
invented.
Oliver Herford
Little Boy Blue
Little Boy Blue,
Come blow your horn,
The sheep’s in the meadow,
The cow’s in the corn;
Where is that boy
Who looks after the sheep?
Under the haystack
Fast asleep.
Will you wake him?
Oh no, not I,
For if I do
He will surely cry.
Anonymous
Jabberwocky
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that
catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey
wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and
through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Lewis Carroll
The Butter Betty Bought
Betty Botta bought some butter;
“But,” said she, “this butter’s bitter!
If I put it in my batter
It will make my batter bitter.
But a bit o’ better butter
Will but make my batter better.”
Then she bought a bit o’ butter
Better than the bitter butter,
Made her bitter batter better.
So ’twas better Betty Botta
bought a bit o’ better butter.
Carolyn Wells
I wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
William Wordsworth
What’s Your Name?
What’s your name?
Mary Jane.
Where do you live?
Cabbage Lane.
What’s your number?
Rain and thunder.
What address?
Watercress.
What’s your name?
Johnny Maclean.
Where do you live?
Down the lane.
What’s your shop?
Lollipop.
What’s your number?
Cucumber.
Anon
Short Visit, Long Stay
The school trip was a special
occasion
But we never reached our
destination
Instead of the zoo
I was looked in the loo
On a M62 service station
Paul Cookson
The Letter A
The letter A is awesome!
It simply is the best.
Without an A, you could not get
an A+ on a test.
You’d never see an acrobat
or eat an apple pie.
You couldn’t be an astronaut
or kiss your aunt goodbye.
An antelope would not exist.
An ape would be unknown.
You’d never hear a person
say “Afraid” or “All Alone”.
The A’s in avocado
would completely disappear
and certain words would be forgot
like “ankle”, “arm”, and “ear”.
Without the A, you couldn’t aim
an arrow in the air.
You wouldn’t ask for apricots
or almonds at a fair.
Aruba and Australia
would be missing from a map.
You’d never use an ATM,
an apron, or an app.
The arctic fox and aardvark
would be absent from the zoo,
and vowels, as you know them,
would be E, I, O, and U.
There wouldn’t be an A chord
on the instruments you play.
Let’s appreciate, admire,
and applaud the letter A!
Darren Sardelli
Kisko Pop
When de July sun hot like fire,
Den I have jus’ one desire,
To run down to de shop an’ buy a
Kisko pop.
When de August heatwave frizzle
Up de leaf dem, an’ not a drizzle
In de sky, I just feel fe swizzle
A kisko pop.
For kisco pop
Cool dung de body,
I take a kisco fe de heat,
Kisko pop taste better dan nectar,
Icy cold an’ sweet.
When de hot sun start to burn me,
An’ me belly start fe churn, de
Only thing dat will concern me
Is kisco pop.
Valerie Bloom
Albert and the Lion
There’s a famous seaside place called
Blackpool,
That’s noted for fresh-air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.
A grand little lad was Albert,
All dressed in his best; quite a swell,
With a stick with an ‘orse’s ‘ead ‘andle,
The finest that Woolworth’s could sell.
They didn’t think much to the ocean:
The waves, they was fiddlin’ and small
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded,
‘Fact, nothing to laugh at at all.
So, seeking for further amusement,
They paid and went into the zoo
Where they’d lions and tigers and camels
And old ale and sandwiches too.
There were one great big lion called
Wallace;
His nose was all covered with scars.
He lay in a som-no-lent posture
With the side of his face on the bars.
Now Albert had heard about lions,
How they was ferocious and wild.
To see Wallace lying so peaceful,
Well... it didn’t seem right to the child.
So straight ‘way the brave little feller,
Not showing a morsel of fear,
Took ‘is stick with the ‘orse’s ‘ead ‘andle
And shoved it in Wallace’s ear!
You could see that the lion didn’t like it,
For giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with ‘im
And swallowed the little lad... whole!
Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence,
And didn’t know what to do next,
Said, “Mother! Yon lions ‘et Albert.”
And Mother said “Eeh, I am vexed!”
Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom —
The keeper was quite nice about it;
He said, “What a nasty mishap.
Are you sure that it’s your boy he’s eaten?”
Pa said, “Am I sure? There’s his cap!”
So the manager had to be sent for.
He came and he said, “What’s to do?”
Pa said, “Yon lion’s ‘et Albert,
And ‘im in his Sunday clothes, too.”
Then Mother said, “Right’s right, young feller;
I think it’s a shame and a sin
For a lion to go and eat Albert
And after we’ve paid to come in!”
The manager wanted no trouble.
He took out his purse right away,
Saying, “How much to settle the matter?”
Pa said “What do you usually pay?”
But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone.
She said, “No! Someone’s got to be summonsed!”
So that was decided upon.
Then off they went to the P’lice Station
In front of a Magistrate chap.
They told ‘im what happened to Albert,
And proved it by showing his cap.
The Magistrate gave his o-pinion
That no-one was really to blame.
He said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.
At that Mother got proper blazing,
And “Thank you, sir, kindly!” said she.
“What?! Waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!”
Marriott Edgar
The Dentist and the Crocodile
The crocodile, with cunning smile, sat in the dentist’s
chair.
He said, “Right here and everywhere my teeth require
repair.”
The dentist’s face was turning white. He quivered,
quaked and shook.
He muttered, “I suppose I’m going to have to take a
look.”
“I want you”, Crocodile declared, “to do the back ones
first.
The molars at the very back are easily the worst.”
He opened wide his massive jaws. It was a fearsome
sight—
At least three hundred pointed teeth, all sharp and
shining white.
The dentist kept himself well clear. He stood two
yards away.
He chose the longest probe he had to search out the
decay.
“I said to do the back ones first!” the Crocodile called
out.
“You’re much too far away, dear sir, to see what you’re
about.
To do the back ones properly you’ve got to put your
head
Deep down inside my great big mouth,” the grinning
Crocky said.
The poor old dentist wrung his hands and, weeping in
despair,
He cried, “No no! I see them all extremely well from
here!”
Just then, in burst a lady, in her hands a golden chain.
She cried, “Oh Croc, you naughty boy, you’re playing
tricks again!”
“Watch out!” the dentist shrieked and started climbing
up the wall.
“He’s after me! He’s after you! He’s going to eat us all!”
“Don’t be a twit,” the lady said, and flashed a gorgeous
smile.
“He’s harmless. He’s my little pet, my lovely crocodile.”
Roald Dahl