My Christmas Story by Kylie Covark

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I’m writing a Christmas story.

It feels like Winter snow.

I’d better get a move on;

Just six more sleeps to go.

 

I’m writing a Christmas story.

It sounds like Ho Ho Ho.

I’d better get my skates on;

Just five more sleeps to go.

 

I’m writing a Christmas story.

It smells like cookie dough.

I’d better get a roll on;

Just four more sleeps to go.

 

I’m writing a Christmas story,

But it’s not the one I know.

I’d better pull the reins in

With three more sleeps to go.

 

I’m writing a Christmas story.

It smells like fresh mango,

I’d better take it easy;

Still two more sleeps to go.

 

I’m writing a Christmas story.

It sounds like the sea’s flow,

It’s time to take a rest now;

Just one more sleep to go.

 

I’m writing a Christmas story.

It feels like Summer’s glow.

And today I’ll live that story;

A Christmas of my own.

 

By Kylie Covark

 

Letter “C” by James Aitchison

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LETTER “C”

 

C them there on windows,

C them there in stores,

C them up all over,

C them now because…

 

 

C is for Christmas cards!

 

 

Christmas cards with holly,

Cards with silver bells,

Cards with laughing Santas,

Cards that wish you well.

 

Christmas cards with angels,

Cards with trees and snow,

Cards with candles burning,

Cards that gleam and glow.

 

Christmas cards with reindeers,

Leaping through the sky,

Up there on the mantel —

Christmas Day is nigh!

 

Christmas cards with sparkle,

Heartfelt cards so true;

Why can’t all that goodwill

Last the whole year through?

 

 

James Aitchison

“Progression” with Teacher notes

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Progression

 

She showed it

to her slavedriver

who saw the possibilities

He promoted slave Hannah

to supervise

the sawing team

 

Before,

hundreds pulled the immense stone block

on its log rollers

A team of twenty waited at the back

to grasp the log-load

when it had been run over

The back log had to be

hauled to the front

to be run over yet again

 

If only the stone could stay still

on the logs while they kept rolling

Clearly impossible. Hannah scowled

But a slice of log sawn from one end

would roll the same way

With a hole in the middle

supporting – well we’d call it an axle

and a second round piece from the log

On her model it worked perfectly

Wheels! Wooden wheels!

The first cart

 

Wheelbarrows, trains, cars, trucks

cogs, pulleys, clocks,  machines

 

Life on earth would never be the same.

 

Virginia Lowe

Notes:

The Israelites or Jews were kept slaves by the Egyptians, so I’m imagining it was the same time as they built the pyramids – that’s why I called the slave Hannah, originally a Jewish name.

In fact it wasn’t the same time – the pyramids were built about 300 years before the Israelite’s turned up. But it makes a more interesting story. A very very old story.

I couldn’t think of any way to describe the axle apart from our word, but it’s a concept they wouldn’t have had. I’d like to hear if anyone can think of how the rod holding the two wheels together and on the ground, could be described otherwise.

The Jews escaped from Egypt with the help of Moses, who persuaded the king, Pharaoh, to let them go with the help of ten plagues. It is all there told in the Bible in the book Exodus, and is celebrated each year by the Jewish community as Passover.

Ideas:

Maths:           Looking at shape make Pyramids with cardboard

Humanities: Research the logistics of the building of the Pyramids

Learn about Jewish history and culture

Music:          “Let my people go” This includes images that will help in learning about

Jewish history

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkEmS3hWmmU

Art:               Paint: Make a giant class cardboard pyramid and creatively decorate it

Birds of a Feather by Jackie Hosking

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There’s a paddling of ducklings in my lake
And a purr of pussycats half awake

There’s a trembling of finches on my lawn
And a purr of pussycats stretch and yawn

There’s a troubling of hummingbirds in my blossom
And a purr of pussycats playing possum

There’s a pitying of turtledoves cooing to their mate
And a purr of pussycats rubbing on the gate

There’s a quarrel of sparrows busy with their fight
And a purr of pussycats keeping out of sight

There’s a peep of chickens and a bevy of quails
And a purr of pussycats wagging their tails

But then, in the sky, is a murder of crows
And a prickle of pussycats hide in the rose

The Dreamers by Monty Edwards

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Once a waddling goose and gander

On a search for something grander

Left their farmyard to meander

Down a stream.

Now the goose was named Cassandra

And the gander, Alexander,

With a new home by the water

As their dream.

 

They had found the farmyard boring

With the crows’ incessant cawing

And the sleepy dogs all snoring

Through the day.

While the river looked appealing

And it gave the pair a feeling

In their new home by the water

They would stay.

 

But the farmer had been boasting

Of the geese he planned on roasting

At a dinner he was hosting

For his friend.

So he searched in haste to catch them

And he speedily despatched them.

Thus the dreamers by the river

Met their end.

 

Polliwogs and pobblebonks by Jenny Erlanger

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I could be quite mistaken

but I’m feeling pretty sure

that polliwog’s a word

you’ve never come across before.

And pobblebonk’s another,

with a funny kind of sound,

a word I’m also certain

you have never seen around.

They’re not a type of candy

or variety of fish.

They’re not exotic items

in some oriental dish.

They don’t have beaks or feathers

and they’re not a breed of dog.

A polliwog’s a tadpole

and a pobblebonk’s a frog.

Poem of the Day

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Hey diddle duddle

Astronauts in a muddle

Double helpings of trouble were spooned

The martian men laughed

As they dropped their space daks

and confused passing spaceships they mooned

Sioban Timmer
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #14

Poem of the Day

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Beware of cats

 

Cats are sly and selfish,

Creeping through the night.

They don’t love their owners,

They just spit and fight.

Trust me when I tell you,

Henceforth and moreover —

Cats are hideous things!

(Signed) Yours truly,

Rover

 

James Aitchison 

Farmyard Band by John Williams

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Poem of the Day

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Yesterday we had bacon and eggs for breakfast

Today was Coco Pops

Yesterday we had an apple for morning tea

Today was fairy floss

Yesterday we had pumpkin soup for lunch

Today was hot chips

Yesterday we had Greek yogurt for an afternoon snack

Today was a Mars Bar

Yesterday we had a roast chicken dinner with veggies

Today was a Happy Meal from McDonald’s

Yesterday we had homemade apple pie for dessert

Today was a chocolate donut

Yesterday we watched the footy with carrot sticks and dip

Today we watched with a big bucket of popcorn

Yesterday my mum was home all day

Today my dad was in charge of food

I wonder what we will eat tomorrow?

 Jeanie Axton
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #32