National Poetry Month by JENNA CHANDER

Book Spine Poetry

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 20:23:06 UTC

Love That Dog by Sharon Creech

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 20:31:19 UTC

Be Glad a Nose Is on Your Face

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 20:34:07 UTC

Jack Prelutsky, 1940

Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.

Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you’d be forced to smell your feet.

Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.

Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.

Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!

Different Forms of Poetry

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 20:35:43 UTC

Dead Poets Society

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 20:37:53 UTC

English professor John Keating inspires his students to a love of poetry and to seize the day.

Make your own poetry journal!

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 20:40:04 UTC

'Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me Too' by Shel Silverstein

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 20:43:52 UTC

National Poetry Month 2016 Poster

jls702 — 2016-03-09 21:01:56 UTC

National Poetry Month 2016 Poster

All My Great Excuses by Ken Nesbitt

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 21:05:32 UTC

I started on my homework,
but my pen ran out of ink…
My hamster ate my homework…
My computer's on the blink…

I tripped and dropped my homework
in the soup my mom was cooking…
My brother flushed it down the toilet
when I wasn't looking…

My mother ran my homework
through the washer and the dryer…
An airplane crashed into our house…
My homework caught on fire…

Tornadoes blew my notes away…
Volcanoes rocked our town…
My books were taken hostage
by an evil killer clown…

Some aliens abducted me…
I had a shark attack…
A pirate swiped my homework
and refused to give it back…

I worked on these excuses
so darned long my teacher said,
"I think you'll find it's easier
to do the work instead."

Poetry Exercises for Kids

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 21:07:25 UTC

Poetry with Legos!

jlc5271 — 2016-03-09 21:09:03 UTC

Poem in Your Pocket

rew99 — 2016-03-09 21:40:07 UTC

Poem in Your Pocket Day 2016 will be held on April 21. Resource on website includes poems for children.

Fold Me A Poem

rew99 — 2016-03-09 22:10:46 UTC

Book of poems and origami activities. Author-created guides on her website.

Hands-on Poetry

jls702 — 2016-03-09 23:59:10 UTC

Poetry Exercises

rew99 — 2016-03-10 00:00:50 UTC

Random Word Poems and Weather Poems

Haiku and Craft

rew99 — 2016-03-10 00:08:14 UTC

Jabberwocky

rew99 — 2016-03-10 00:27:56 UTC

Lewis Carroll

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Love That Boy

rew99 — 2016-03-10 00:32:42 UTC

Walter Dean Myers

Love that boy,
like a rabbit loves to run
I said I love that boy
like a rabbit loves to run
Love to call him in the morning
love to call him
'Hey there, son!'

He walk like his Grandpa,
Grins like his Uncle Ben.
I said he walk like his Grandpa,
And grins like his Uncle Ben.
Grins when he's happy,
When he sad, he grins again.

His mama like to hold him,
Like to feed him cherry pie.
I said his mama like to hold him.
Like to feed him that cherry pie.
She can have him now,
I'll get him by and by

He got long roads to walk down
Before the setting sun.
I said he got a long, long road to walk down
Before the setting sun.
He'll be a long stride walker,
And a good man before he done.

Fleas

jls702 — 2016-03-10 01:04:22 UTC

Ogden Nash

Adam
Had'em

Children's Poetry (Poetry Foundation)

mmhone42 — 2016-03-10 15:33:07 UTC

Riddles!

mmhone42 — 2016-03-10 15:36:54 UTC

Five Senses Poem Activity

mmhone42 — 2016-03-10 15:38:55 UTC

Online Magnetic Poetry Game (Nature)

mmhone42 — 2016-03-10 15:39:14 UTC

Lesson Ideas

mmhone42 — 2016-03-10 15:40:37 UTC

Kinetic poetry video

mmhone42 — 2016-03-10 15:42:17 UTC

Concrete poetry book

mmhone42 — 2016-03-10 15:43:21 UTC