Poem of the Day

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Spellbound!

 

Today I started back at school

And heard about a brand new rule.

My teacher had an evil grin.

She said:  “I’m going to keep you in

Till you can spell ‘Afghanistan’.

You won’t be leaving till you can.”

 

I heard her words with great dismay.

My friend and I had planned to play,

And since my spelling’s rather poor,

My chance of getting out the door

And going off to play with him

Seemed altogether rather slim.

 

But then my Afghan friend Khalil

Said: “I can guess how you must feel,

Because I often felt a failure

When I first tried to spell ‘Australia’.

Let’s work together as a team,

It’s not as hard as it might seem.”

 

We worked together, he and I.

He had a plan for me to try:

“I think,” he said, “you’ll find it best

To learn just ‘Afghan’, then the rest.

So let’s begin with ‘Af’ and ‘ghan’.

You’ll surely manage ‘is’ and tan’!”

 

Well, spelling ‘Af’ did not take long.

(He told me double f was wrong),

But as for ‘ghan’ I must beware,

Since silent h had crept in there!

But once he put me on my guard

Inserting h was not so hard.

 

I added then both ‘is’ and ‘tan’

And neatly wrote “Afghanistan”

Then when our turn had come to spell

Khalil and I performed so well

That in the end, despite her grin,

The teacher couldn’t keep us in.

 

Monty Edwards
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

Monty says:  “I started with the idea of a new rule for a new school year and since accurate spelling presents a significant challenge for many children (and adults!) decided to combine these two elements in the poem. It gave me an opportunity to add a dash of  fruitful understanding and teamwork with someone from a different background.”

 

 

Poem of the Day

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Charlie’s Lunch

 

Oops!

I’ve got my brother’s lunchbox

With The Wiggles on the lid,

He must have picked up mine instead

(He’s just a little kid.)

So Charlie’s got my health bar

And my favourite yoghurt snack,

And I’ve got little kiddie lunch –

Too late to change it back.

I could go and see the teacher,

But she’ll say, “Don’t bother me,”

I guess I’m stuck with Charlie’s lunch,

I’ll be half starved by three.

 

Here we go….what is this stuff?

One tin of custard pears,

Two egg and lettuce sandwiches

Cut into tiny squares,

Three cherry drops with jelly tops,

Four skinny carrot sticks,

Five cubes of watermelon, no,

You’d better make that six.

And right down at the bottom is-

What’s this! A chocolate crunch!

WOW!

Where’s my place? I need some space,

I’m having Charlie’s lunch.

 Jill McDougall
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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THE BATTLE

 

On a Monday wet and cool,

I decided on a day off school.

 

‘Get up at once,’ my mother said,

So I threw up all over the bed.

 

I groaned about feeling really horrid,

She only had to feel my forehead.

 

I knew I was sick with something contagious,

But her disbelief was really outrageous.

 

I clung to my bed, so she just got meaner,

And bashed me with the vacuum cleaner.

 

The blood that flowed from my bleeding nose,

She washed away with the garden hose.

 

She hit me with the old straw broom,

And kept chasing me from room to room.

 

At last she drove me out of the house,

And called me a dirty conniving louse.

 

I threatened to fling myself under the bus,

Determined to end this dreadful fuss.

 

When thrown on the bus with a parting curse,

I knew that life couldn’t get much worse.

 

Still dripping blood, an awful bother,

The driver threw me back to mother.

 

Didn’t she scowl as she made the decision,

That I could stay home and watch television.

 

Margaret Pearce
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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WINDOW SEAT

 

Just out the window seems to be

a better place for you and me.

There’s sunshine there

and giant slides …

and if you’ve brave

there’s dragon rides!

 

There’s trees to climb

that scrape the moon,

and monsters dance

in the lagoon,

and Bigfoots bounce

on trampolines,

and tigers sneak up

unforeseen

and strike like lightning

at their prey –

then lick them ’till

they’re licked away!

 

If only classrooms had lagoons

on sleepy Monday afternoons.

Bill Condon
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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First day of school

 

I’ll soon be walking through that door,

I’ve waited all these years.

But nothing’s quite prepared me for

this sudden flood of tears.

I know that I will be OK,

I’ll take whatever comes,

as soon as I can get away

from all these weeping mums!

Jenny Erlanger

 

First published in “Hopscotch” (Jellibeanz Publications, 2011)

  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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The New Ssstudent

 

Slithering, whispering

A snake came to class

Brightly glittering

Its scales like glass

 

Short, thick body

Banded with grey

Wiggling lure tail

Tempting for prey.

 

Terrible, horrible

It gave us a turn

But Mrs MacWinkle

Said, ‘It may wish to learn.’

 

Snake failed English

Again and again;

Snakes are not built

For holding a pen.

 

Snake could not learn

To decipher a map,

Of history and science

It knew not a scrap.

 

But to our surprise

That snake was able

To complete with a snap

The seven times table.

 

At sums and fractions

It couldn’t be greater:

Its mind was just like

The best calculator.

 

When we realised the truth

We could hardly be gladder:

Mathematics comes easy

When you are an adder.

Jessica Nelson
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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Poem of the Day

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A Letter from the Principal

Dear Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith,

I’m writing you this letter

because your son’s behaviour

isn’t getting any better.

 

His writing is untidy and

his spelling is a worry.

He’s often late and consequently,

always in a hurry.

 

His recent science project

nearly caused a school disaster.

The explosion covered twenty boys

in clouds of ceiling plaster.

 

He’s been with us for twenty years,

or is it twenty two?

Dear Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith,

just what are we to do?

 

He’s untidy and he’s silly

and he always acts the fool,

but still the students say he’s

the best teacher in our school.

Pat Simmons
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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