Quite a few poems in funny books are quite funny, some skilfully so. But humour is in vogue. In the unwittingly comic Literacy Strategy a limerick has syllables, a syllable is a beat, free verse is poetry which is not constrained, etc , there is much about humour. How do they? A matter of craft. But more often, committed jokiness seems willing to relinquish even modest crafting, with the result that — as here, somewhat at random, from Who Left Grandad at the Chip Shop?
Why is there so much doggerel clumping about?
Why are so many poems eager, desperately, to be funny? Is it because Literacy Hour is crazy about shape poems, concrete poems, kennings, list poems, rap, chants, action-poems, tongue-twisters, cinquains, calligrams, limericks, ballads, sonnets, riddles, tanka, haikus, renga, riddles, nonsense rhymes, wordplay, more cinquains, acrostics, nonsense rhymes, performance poems? Children roll a giant snowball:. So does Christopher Reid, whose All Sorts — my favourite book of the hundred-odd and, I now discover, winner of the Signal Poetry Award — is a book that every in-service gathering ought to read through out loud twice:.
Probably not. Not much, would be my guess. Which one can use or not, as one sees fit. A realistic hope? Poetry is being driven out. His fifty or so titles for children include many anthologies. For teachers, his excellent Behind the Poem is OP but perhaps available on libraries. He is a regular visitor to schools.
All Sorts , Christopher Reid, ill.
Selected Publications & Awards
Dolphinella , Kit Wright, ill. Heaven in a Poem , ed. Lois Rock, ill. Hysterical Historical Poems, Middle Ages , ed. In and Out the Shadows , Sandy Brownjohn, ill. Join In…or Else! Nick Toczek, ill. Meeting Midnight , Carol Ann Duffy, ill. Once Upon an Animal, Faustin Charles, ill. Poems About Love , ed. Roger McGough, ill. Pumpkin Pie and Puddles , Georgie Adams, ill. Shades of Green , ed. Anne Harvey, ill. The Songs of Birds , ed. Hugh Lupton, ill. Teacher Alligator, Faustin Charles, ill. Feel the wind rush past the wind rushes past my face on the Minuteman — A.
I turn Ducklings all look back — A. It is really great A lovely place to be in Wind breezing by me — Aarin M. On my bike again Off to enjoy the lovely Green tunnel. Turtles large and small Sunning themselves and swimming. I pause and watch them. Nature's gift to us, Is what we take for granted, Let us treasure it! It is where we walk, Talk and ride our bicycles, Its the Minuteman!! Scissoring thighs, huff- ing lungs. Each inhalation the exhale of trees. Under August sun green elm liberates one leaf of fluttering gold — Aileen Maroney, Arlington.
Shades of Green: Poems by Anne Harvey
Black-Capped Chickadee, Chirping, lovely, in treetops, Oh, you make me smile. Asphalt beneath us what we create and let go a train for a path. Trailblazers pedal new pathways into old roads history unfolds. Bright sweaters on trees Kept us all warm last winter But the seasons change — Amy Goldstein. Wet asphalt gleaming Sunshine, headlamp, streetlamp, moon Bikeway never sleeps — Andrea Nicolay, Arlington.
Juice from watermelon yum This summer is great! A certain terror laces a baby's crying who needs to be changed. A still and calm pond, A wonder of the Bike Path, The unnoticed tree. Roosters on the path Pecking at the dirt for what? Rather eat ice cream! Silver leaf, fallen trash, the roar of far traffic, Green tunnel beckons. Ancient woman sits watching the bikers zip by — this her daily delight.
Garden of light where fat slugs lie and prey upon ephemeral wings. Frowning faces fuss about the endless rains worms and slugs rejoice — Annie Hewitt, Arlington Public Library. Bikes, scooters, strollers, rollerblades, and skateboards. Or — just my own two feet. Today I will do — Anonymous, Lexington Library. Reach deep and reach far, Savor questions not answers: Walk with companions. Were the birds telling secrets? Their relief; my joy. Yes, the past is never passed. See a boulder. More than all the stars In all the skies in all worlds, Love shatters distance.
Leaves dance, people laugh Whispering with bright secrets Through lush caopies. The serrated edge Of snow along the bike path, Threat'ning to encroach I amble bravely against a crush of cyclists thankful for my shell — Beth Kun, Arlington. I recline my head In a field of green splendor Bird poops in my eye! Pedals crank. Gears shift. Breezes on my face feel green. They taste like freedom. My eyes roll. My bike path childhood. Transported by bike: my friend's cremated remains, sheet music, sweet corn.
Sharp-eyed hawk on fence Ignored my approaching bike, Pounced on squeaking mouse — Betty Trembly, Arlington. Or why not Concord?! Today we will walk. Going to the dog park, yes! Today I will run! Crisp air, tang of soil, my bicycle slices through crunchy clouds of leaves Bryce Flint-Somerville, Arlington the tap dance on path grounds me with earth happen to You? Carlsen, Winchester. On her ride today, a minutewoman calls out: "Let's go!
Follow me! Braids beneath helmets whip in the hot summer winds her two wheels fly north — Caitlin Thornbrugh, Jamaica Plain Front light set to dim, coasts along the ghost train path she's headed back home — Caitlin Thornbrugh, Jamaica Plain. Late summer sorrow— Trees on the edge of turning, A colder meadow — Cammy Thomas, Lexington Horse in a pasture Back already to the wind, Waiting for thunder.
Biking and walking, Your feet transport you into A greener future. As I walk, the ghosts of trains past join me on the now smooth path. I smile. Clean air and quiet. Past lush trees, fervent flowers Biking, I feel peace. Waist-length golden hair Disguised princess flying by Fairytale biker — Cathie Desjardins, Arlington.
Across the calm pond Speedy duck makes a calm vee Unseen feet churning — Cathie Desjardins, Arlington. Slow stroll in soft clothes Older couple holdig hands Go around, fast bikes! After thunderstorms Sunset holy picture rays Shine down on washed world — Cathie Desjardins, Arlington.
Small girl, big helmet Smiling Grandma trails behind shiny new scooter — Cathie Desjardins, Arlington. Don't come here at night.
The bunnies might clobber you With small furry paws. Riding at top speed While reading haiku - Oh my! I'd better watch out! Brooks, Concord MA. Sea of golden leaves Shimmering in autumn dawn. I dive in and swim. We walk, run, bike, skate. We're so lucky to have it. Minuteman Bikeway. Arlington Under leafy trees Skateboards zoom past strolling Sikhs. That is special, yes? Seeking perfection, We ignore this flawed Eden, The beauty of now.
The great bike path has, lots of fun and love and sun.
- The Promise;
- LArpenteur (LITT.GENERALE) (French Edition).
- What Hope for Children’s Poetry??
- Shades of Green (Red Fox poetry);
I don't want to leave. Midnight walk. Cats home sleeping next to Dad. You, your dog and I watch swans on green pond guard young with fierce love, like yours. Keep steady cadence. Your body is the motor. Shift as needed. Roll along. Breathe in. Scan ahead. Breathe out. Look up! Enjoy beauty here. This path will show us the way.
Saturday morning's revolutionary ride before soccer games — Emily Kathan, Arlington. Two wheel commuting. Round rubber rolls through stressors. Healing and transport. Not befriending me. Looking for local bread feeders. Hear the angels' trumpets! The sky: the color of love; bird's sing. Wedded bliss. Emmanuela, Arlington, MA Look! Serenity's bliss. Emmanuela, Arlington, MA. I love the bike path Riders, walkers, strollers too People on the move. Play on the bike path! Where the trains once ran We ride their remains.
The wind, their refrain. Once these were close woods. We walked a track, bushwhacking through leaves that spoke rain. Retracing my steps, hopeless. In any season, Enjoy your ride, walk, or run. Just because you can. Four paws ahead — Heather Bruce, Arlington. Not just for bikers But for writers too — searching For the perfect word.
New friendships begin Old ones are sustained and grow With each gentle step — Irene Hannigan, Lexington. Hope for bicycling: Humbly gets us around town, while saving our world — Jack Johnson, Arlington. Focus on the ride The sun's shining on your face Then you miss your turn — Jacob Woolf, age 16, homeschool. Where the trees make a canopy of light and shade - I remember you — Jane B. Racing home.
Janice Hayes-Cha. Wait til eleven Sparrow hotel in joyful song Peace be with you — Jerrie, Arlington. Sun-streaked feathered hair Grit embedded in scabbed knees Who needs bike helmets?
- The Leader in Me: How Schools and Parents Around the World are Inspiring Greatness, One Child at a Time;
- Shades Of Green (Red Fox Poetry) - AbeBooks: !
- Line Drawing Interpretation!
- If You Could See Me Now.
Fly through grounded air Pneumatic brakes clamp and squeeze Make way for ducklings — Jessica Lucci, Waltham. Honk, honk! On your left! Panic, frozen; stop and start Gosling crossing zone — Jessica Lucci, Waltham. Before the asphalt, before the rails, roots stretched deep as centuries. Daredevil dachshund, your thunder shakes the marshes.
The regal swans yawn. My son pedals, slows. But how do the trees drink, when we put pavement down? That can I noticed, in the reeds — adrift today out past the white swans. Black gloves, black wheelchair, she sweeps by neon skaters in a silent wind. The Minuteman trail — a way to walk and wonder, savoring haiku.