Tag Archives: poems for the classroom

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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Mish and Mash

 

I love to cook a mish and mash

A pineapple avocado smash

Cranberry and potato soup

A pea and parsnip ice-cream scoop

A pepper zucchini chocolate slice

Special strawberry chilli rice

Pizza topped with jelly beans

Devil’s food cake served with greens.

I love to cook a mish and mash

Dinner’s done now – got to dash.

Jessica Nelson

Jessica said: Mish and Mash is my response to 2016 poetry prompt #45 (Food). This poem was inspired by the ‘cooking’ my siblings and I used to do as children, where any ingredients we could find were thrown together in the mixing bowl, with varied results.

poetry-prompt-45

 

 

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

poetry-prompt-4

 

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Through my Window

 

Morning comes in through my window

making shadows on my wall

I can see the roses waving

I can hear the magpies call

In the street the dogs are barking

busy people start their day

I stay wrapped within my doona

till it’s time for me to play

Morning comes in through my window

beams of sunlight make me smile

Mummy’s calling me to breakfast

‘In a while, Mum. In a while’

Then I smell the crispy bacon,

maple syrup, pancakes, more.

Morning comes in through my window,

I go racing out the door.

 

Allan Cropper
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #6

poetry-prompt-6

 

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Mal Kennington Malone

 

Mal Kennington Malone

wasn’t good at games.

His classmates always laughed

and called him names:

 

dumb-chum, drophead,

you silly billy shark –

biggest flapfingers

in Bladestone Park.

 

I think I’ll try running –

I know I’m not bad.

I could really show ’em,

he told his Dad.

 

He trained and trained

around an old dirt track;

he trained every day,

ran to school and back.

 

He trained and trained

and ran like a hare,

even trained when it rained,

racing everywhere.

 

When sportsday came,

he was first off the mark,

became the fastest winner

in Bladestone Park.

 

© Katherine Gallagher
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

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School Rules

 

Books and pens and scratching chalk

Gotta think but you’d better not talk

Stop that running. Can’t you walk?

You must obey the rules.

 

Rewrite this page – and keep it neat.

Please don’t fidget with your feet.

Please sit properly on your seat.

Don’t you know the rules?

 

Perhaps you did not hear me mention

that you have to pay attention?

If you don’t you’ll score detention

writing out the rules.

 

Writing rules? I’d like that gig.

Creative writing’s what I dig.

Woo hoo! Stand back for something big

when I write the rules.

Kate O’Neil
  • Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

poetry-prompt-4

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The class photo

The photo man’s getting quite hot in the face,

he really is looking a mess.

He’s spent a whole hour trying to get us in place

but he hasn’t had any success.

 

Annabelle’s tripped over Christopher’s chair

and Bethany’s started to bleat

’Cause Ben spat his chewing gum into her hair

after stomping on both of her feet.

 

Emma keeps poking her tongue out at Rose,

Alison’s taking a nap.

The girls in the front are adjusting their bows

and won’t keep their hands in their lap.

 

Tom’s spilled the drink he’s been secretly slurping

all over the back of my neck

and someone above me keeps farting and burping.

The photo man’s looking a wreck!

 

He’s glaring at me and I wish I could hide,

he’s just about out of his mind.

But it’s hard to keep both of my hands by my side

when I’m poked in the ribs from behind.

 

We’ve finally stopped all the wriggles and squeals

but I’m not sure the photo’s still on

’cause the photo man’s suddenly turned on his heels

And he’s packed up the camera and gone.

Jenny Erlanger
  •  Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

poetry-prompt-4

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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

poetry-prompt-4

 

 

 

 

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

poetry-prompt-4

Poem of the Day

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First Day

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

listening, leap frogging,

growing learning’s wings?

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

singing, seeking friends,  perhaps

learning not to cling?

 

Will you notice as

your tomorrows become todays

patterned by

the daily school bell rings?

 

Will you find each day might

have a surprise

like a snake catcher visiting with

super thin snake skin?

 

Are you ready for a big tomorrow

As your school journey begins?

 

June Perkins

Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #4

poetry-prompt-4

 

June said: With ‘First Day’ I started with the idea of a ‘big tomorrow’, and thought about yesterday, today, tomorrow, routines and surprises.

I also remembered a time when my son had a snake catcher visit his school and so the poem was born.