Tagged Poetry

Ode to Winter

The Snow, a blues poem by Otto O. (6th grade) Oh, the snow, the snow, the snow. The white, the warmth, the snow. I feel so good. I think you know. But then comes the rain! Oh no, not the rain! It wipes all the good snow away. And I’m upset, thanks a lot rain!…

December Days

December Days Anushka (3rd grade) Christmas lights shining like stars On a cold winter night. Snow covering trees, Like thick white blankets. Stockings hung from the fireplace, Waiting to be filled by treats. Children going To wait for old Saint Nick. They open their presents on Christmas day With joyful faces. The snow is melting…

On Teaching: Poems by a Teacher

by David Rosenthal   HER GHOST It walks with her to school, floating on a pool of rainbow oil along the gutter floor. It darkens chain-link lace, foreshadowing the face of someone sleeping by a boarded door. It slides past broken panes, and crawls across four lanes of careless traffic on the boulevard, then jumps…

The Music of My Life

The Music of My Life by Josephine W. (4th grade) Sometimes I hear the pitter patter of rain the sad days of rain end with a sigh In the spring I hear the sweet giggling of children the happy day of sunshine ends with a sleepy snore In the summer, I hear the rustle of children…

Candles in a Winter Wonderland

Snowballs Throughout the World by Liam (3rd grade) I’m skiing down a mountain. I’m soaring into snow. I’m watching the snowflakes as they fall from the sky. I’m building an ice castle with lots of snow. I’m lighting Hanukkah candles late at night. I’m watching football on TV at night. I’m sipping hot chocolate. I…

Revision by Translation

by Erika Luckert This lesson uses translation as a way to teach revision in poetry.  Grades: Middle and high school Opening Discussion:  Ask students if anyone speaks a language other than English. Give the students a chance to share their other languages with each other, and ask if anybody has tried translating, either orally or…

How Did You Get Here: Richard Lewis’ Fifty Years of Teaching Children Poetry, And Being Taught By Them

by Robert Hirschfield     Picking at the             soil            grains     of my childhood            play    a little longer   Richard Lewis, 83, left his door open for me. It is on the fourth floor of a strange old office building in Astoria, Queens that houses three funeral parlors and a museum. Short,…

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