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I was sitting by a stream When I saw a grasshopper hop from a rock

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Presentation on theme: "I was sitting by a stream When I saw a grasshopper hop from a rock"— Presentation transcript:

1 I was sitting by a stream When I saw a grasshopper hop from a rock
That Reminds Me I was sitting by a stream When I saw a grasshopper hop from a rock And land on the other side And it reminded me of how we used to jump Across the puddles in the driveway After a summer rain- Except the grasshopper didn’t get all wet- And didn’t get the giggles. I was sitting on the porch When I saw a squirrel in the weeping willow tree Vaulting through the air To anther limb And it reminded me of how we used to tie ourselves Into the lows branches of that tree And run And swing Up off the ground We were like flying squirrels I was lying on my back in the grass When I saw a maple leaf fall off a high branch And float in the wind Out past the top of my head And it reminded me of the time our kite string broke And the kite soared out over the top of the hill And we never saws it again I still think about that old kite And it reminds me of you -Will Mowery

2 Walking With My Iguana .I’m walking with my iguana I’m walking with my iguana When the temperature rises to above eighty-five, my iguana is looking like he’s coming alive. So we make it to the beach, my iguana and me, then he sits on my shoulder as we stroll by the sea and I’m walking with my iguana Well if anyone sees us we’re a big surprise, my iguana and me on our daily exercise, till somebody phones the local police says I’ve got an alligator tied to a leash. when I’m walking with my iguana I’m walking with my iguana It’s the spines on his back that make him look grim, but he just loves to be tickled under his chin. And I know that my iguana is ready for bed when he puts on his pyjamas and lays down his sleepy head. And I’m walking with my iguana still walking with my iguana With my iguana with my iguana and my piranha and my Chihuahua and my chinchilla, with my gorilla, my caterpillar… and I’m walking… with my iguana… with my iguana… with my iguana… You can hear it at this website. After reading aloud to students, let them choral read a couple of times to get the rhythm of it. Next, let the children work in partners, or independent if they wish, choosing a favorite animal and create their own poem with their animal. For a bigger challenge, have them choose a new animal AND a new verb for their original poetry.

3 Pencil Sharpener By Zoe Ryder White I think there are a hundred bees inside the pencil sharpener and they buzz and buzz until my point is sharp! Ceiling The ceiling is the sky for the classroom

4 Bear In There by Shel Silverstein
There's a Polar Bear In our Frigidaire-- He likes it 'cause it's cold in there. With his seat in the meat And his face in the fish And his big hairy paws In the buttery dish, He's nibbling the noodles, He's munching the rice, He's slurping the soda, He's licking the ice. And he lets out a roar If you open the door. And it gives me a scare To know he's in there-- That Polary Bear In our Fridgitydaire.

5 Crickets, Valerie Worth
Talk In the tall Grass All Late summer Long. When Summer Is gone, The dry Whispers Alone.

6 Some lovely small poems by Valerie Worth: chairs
Chairs Seem To Sit Down On Themselves, almost as if They were people, Some fat, some thin; Settled comfortably On their own seats, Some even stretch out their arms To Rest. . sun The sun Is a leaping fire Too hot To go near, But it will still Lie down In warm yellow squares On the floor Like a flat Quilt, where The cat can curl And purr.

7 he Poem that Got Away–By Felice Holman There I was and in it came
Through the fogbank of my brain From the fastness of my soul Shining like a glowing coal – The nearly perfect poem! Oh, it may have needed just An alteration here or there— A little tuck, a little seam To be exactly what I mean – The really perfect poem I’ll write it later on, I said, The idea’s clear and so’s my head. This pen I have is nearly dry. What I’ll do now is finish this pie, Then on to the perfect poem! With pen in hand quite full of ink I try not to recall. I’ve plenty of time in which to think But the poem went down the kitchen sink With the last of the perfect pie.

8 safety pin Valerie Worth Closed, it sleeps On its side Quietly, The silver Image Of some Small fish; Opened, it snaps Its tail out Like a thin Shrimp, and looks At the sharp Point with a Surprised eye

9 DANDELION - by Valerie Worth
Out of Green space, A sun: Bright for A day, burning Away to A husk, a Cratered moon: Burst In a week To dust: Seeding The infinitie Lawn with Its starry Smithereens.

10 Spring Seeds By: Douglas Florian Spring Seeds We tilled the earth, Took out the weeds, Then in the soil Planted seeds: Pumpkin, Parsely, Carrot, Pea, Spring succeeds ex-seed-ing-ly.

11 Baseball Cards #1 BY JIM DANIELS One of the 10,342 baseball cards in my parents’ attic sneezes in the dampness, remembers sweaty hands. He calls to me across hundreds of miles: Remember me, Jake Wood, 1964, 2nd base, Detroit Tigers, Series 2, No. 272? He wants to stretch his legs, climb out from between Wilbur Wood and the 4th Series Checklist wants to outsail all the other cards in a game of farthies, float down on Jose Tartabull in a game of tops. He wants to smell like fresh from the pack wants to be perfumed again with the pink smell of bubble gum.

12 October Saturday All the leaves have turned to cornflakes. It looks as if some giant’s baby brother had tipped the box and scattered them upon our lawn- millions and millions of cornflakes- crunching, crunching under our feet. When the wind blows, they rattle against each other, nervously chattering. We rake them into piles- Dad and I. Piles and piles of cornflakes! A breakfast for a whole family of giants! We do not talk much as we rake- A word here- A word there. The leaves are never silent. Inside the house my mother is packing Short sleeved shirts and faded bathing suits- Rubber clogs and flippers- In a box marked SUMMER. We are raking Bobbi Ka

13 three wrestling puppies four dancing birds five laughing babies
Inside My Heart by Zoe Ryder White Inside my heart lives one birthday party two jazz bands three wrestling puppies four dancing birds five laughing babies six blasting spaceships seven lucky fireflies and a sky full of stars

14 Falling Leaves by Jack Prelutsky Little leaves fall softly down Red and yellow, orange and brown Whirling, twirling round and round Falling softly to the ground Little leaves fall softly down To make a carpet on the ground. Then, swish, the wind comes whistling by And sends them dancing to the sky.

15 When the Roses Revolted When the Roses Revolted
The roses were fed up. They were sick sick sick of being symbols for love. One night they revolted, crept out of flower shops, jumped out of windows and touched the dirt! They spent that night drinking real night air, carousing with clover, boogying with bluebells, dancing with dandelions, and in this way they rediscovered their roots. ~ Ralph Fletcher

16 Fog by Carl Sandburg The fog comes on little cat feet
Fog by Carl Sandburg The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.

17 Some one by Walter De la Mare
Some one by Walter De la Mare. Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Someone came knocking; I'm sure-sure-sure; I listened, I opened, I looked to left and right, But nought there was a stirring In the still dark night; Only the busy beetle Tap-tapping in the wall, Only from the forest The screech-owl's call, Only the cricket whistling While the dewdrops fall, So I know not who came knocking, At all, at all, at all.

18 DREAMS by Langston Hughes Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.

19 The Tree On The Corner by Lilian Moore I’ve seen        the tree on the corner          in spring bud and summer green. Yesterday it was yellow gold. Then a cold wind began to blow.   Now I know –  you really do not see a tree  until you see its bones. 

20 PAPER CLIPS By Rebecca Kai Dotlich With tiny teeth of tin they take one slender breath before they make a move, and then --- a silver pinch! With jaws no bigger than an inch these dragon grips are small and slight --- but conquer pages with one bite!

21 Foghorns by Langston Hughes The foghorns moaned           in the bay last night    so sad            so deep I thought I heard the city           crying in its sleep

22 City In the morning the city Spreads its wings Making a song In stone that sings. In the evening the city Goes to bed Hanging lights About its head. Langston Hughes

23 April Rain Song BY LANGSTON HUGHES Let the rain kiss you
April Rain Song BY LANGSTON HUGHES Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk. The rain makes running pools in the gutter. The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night— And I love the rain. “April Rain Song” How do YOU define rain? To Langston Hughes, he loves the rain and it is a peace giver. I know this from his line, “ Let the rain sing you a lullaby.” For me this sounds like a calming and peaceful thought of his. I think he tells us that the rain is quiet and calming and is his escape to another place. A happier place. Also, I think the rain makes him curious about what the world is here for. I can picture this while reading the quotes, “ Let the rain fall upon your head in little silver drops” and “The rain makes still puddles on the sidewalk.” These sentences make me think he is pondering life and the rain. Trying to define the rain from his poetry context and how he feels about the rain is simply looking at the words in another light. He simply loves the rain for if not, he would not let the rain “kiss” him. Reply For Langston Hughes, he expresses that he loves the rain, “I love the rain”. Including by the rain guiding him, based by two lines that define “Let the rain sing you a lullaby” and “The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night”. Rain is like a guardian angel for Langston, that lets you have a better controlled life. As the rain pours, “Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops”. Langston Hughes indicates that rain will guide you through everything you do, day through night. Rain is there.

24 Who has seen the wind Who has seen the wind
Who has seen the wind Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you; But when the leaves hang trembling The wind is passing through. Neither you nor I; But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by.

25 My Baby Brother     My baby brother is so small,  he hasn't even learned to crawl.  He's only been around a week,  and all he seems to do is bawl  and wiggle, sleep and leak.

26 Hold Fast to Dream by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams, For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams, For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow. In the poem Dreams by Langston Hughes, Hughes explores the idea that without dreams, life is without meaning. Hughes's poem expresses that one can't give up on dreams and without dreams life is a waste. Hughes first express the need for dream in the first 4 lines when he says: Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. These 4 lines show that he thinks that life without dreams is a waste, like a "broken-winged bird/ That cannot fly" (Hughes 3-4). Next Hughes compares a life without dreams to a cold barren field when he says, "For when dreams go/ Life is a barren field/ Frozen with snow" (Hughes 6-8). In this part of the poem, Hughes compares a loss of dreams to a barren field while expressing that without dreams, nothing can happen, because being like a barren field, nothing will ever grow.  I found this poem compelling because it can relate to all people. All people dream and all people have felt the pain of losing something you've dreamed of. Another thing that made it compelling was Hughes's use of good metaphors. I can visualize his metaphors, like the broken-winged bird, and make the comparison to dreams. In general, I like the feel and rhythm of his poems, and thats why I chose it.

27 Safety Pin by Valerie Worth
Closed, it sleeps On its side Quietly, The silver Image Of some Small fish; Opened, it snaps Its tail out Like a thin Shrimp, and looks At the sharp Point with a Surprised eye

28 City Child by Lois Lenski
The sidewalk is my yard, The lampost is my tree. Up three long flights of stairs, My home is Flat 4C.

29 THIS TOOTH\ by Lee Bennett Hopkins I jiggled it jaggled it jerked it. I pushed and pulled and poked it. But-- As soon as I stopped and left it alone, This tooth came out on its very own!

30 In Autumn Fannie Montgomery They're coming down in showers, The leaves all gold and red; They're covering the little flowers, And tucking them in bed. They've spread a fairy carpet All up and down the street; And when we skip along to school, They rustle 'neath our feet.

31 Closing Day Thought I wonder if our schoolbooks are lonely all the day While through the long vacation in cupboards put away?  I wonder if the blackboard seems rather out of place Without a single piece of chalk to mark upon its face?  I wonder if the schoolroom is sometimes lonely, too While standing bare and empty without a thing to do?  But this we can assure them. When summer days all flee We'll join them in September and keep them company. -Leland B. Jacobs

32 Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY ROBERT FROSTWhose woods these are I think I know.    His house is in the village though;    He will not see me stopping here    To watch his woods fill up with snow.    My little horse must think it queer    To stop without a farmhouse near    Between the woods and frozen lake    The darkest evening of the year.    He gives his harness bells a shake    To ask if there is some mistake.    The only other sound’s the sweep    Of easy wind and downy flake.    The woods are lovely, dark and deep.    But I have promises to keep,    And miles to go before I sleep,    And miles to go before I sleep.

33 The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I marked the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.  Robert Frost

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