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