Favourite
Things
Lauren,
by Barry Turrell
You're
a new daisy
that's come up at night,
your skin is
a silk cover rubbed
against my hand.
You're a moon
drifting through frozen air,
the lady who helps me
when I'm hurt. You are
cream just whipped.
You're a red lipped flower,
the bit of butter
melting on my potato,
you're the hot water in my
bath, rushing around me.
You are god talking
quietly to horses,
a rainbow in the sky.
You're the moment
I get my sums right.
1.
Read 'Lauren', a poem written by a nine year old pupil (Barry Turrell)
in 1993 (above).
2.
Ask questions and briefly discuss the poem with class.
3.
Ask the class to jot down numbers 1-8 on the left-hand page of a
writing book.
4.
Then ask them to respond as they wish to the following eight
questions, filling in a list of favourite things that they currently
like:
1.
Favourite colour
2. Favourite music
3. Favourite food
4. Favourite person
5. Favourite drink
6. Favourite material/clothing
7. Favourite place
8. Favourite feeling or emotion
Some
of the above need more explanation than others e.g. number eight.
5.
Ask them to ring number four making it the title of the poem they are
about to write using some (or all) of their responses to the questions
to describe that person. Emphasise other things not on the list such
as favourite days, animals, seasons, flowers etc. Also stress it
doesn't have to be anything.
6.
Read three or four other short examples done from the exercise briefly
pinpointing certain words, images, mood etc.
7.
Allow 10-15 minutes to write in silence
8. To finish, ask who would like to read. Then listen and comment.
More
poems from students, using this excercise:
Chrissy
You're
like the coldest wind blowing gently on my face
You're like the last burning ash
The final drop of water dripping from my glass
You're like a blue bird tweeting at the touch of morning
The hot steam from my boiling bath
You're like a candle flickering by the old glass window
Without you the sun wouldn't shine,
The bees wouldn't buzz,
The birds wouldn't sing and the flowers wouldn't dance
The world would be too quiet and dark with not one slight
bit of happiness.
by
Kylie Davies (Brigend)
MY
MUM
You're
mauve and red flowing through emotions
you're smoked salmon deeply marinated in lemon
you're bluebells coming up in February
you're the busy buzzing streets of London
you're like lemonade slipping slowly down my throat
you're like smashing the ball past the diving keeper
you're like a bacon sandwich
sunshine glowing through the trees.
by
Matthew Harries
Yon
You're
the most beautiful purple sunset sinking into the sea
You're the blackberry juice stained around my mouth
You're the moonlight sonata quietly seeping out of a piano
the bubbling of pure spring water
You're the wild music of marshy rushes
a scrap of green linen caught on barbed wire
You're the gentle breeze ruffling my scruffy hair
Without you, I wouldn't be anywhere
by
Nancie Gynn (S.W. Cornwall)
© Phil Bowen
The
poem 'Lauren' is reprinted by permission of WHSmith Young Writers
Competition
|
