MYSTERY OF THE TALKING FAN BY MAUDE RUBIN

MYSTERY OF THE TALKING FAN BY MAUDE RUBIN 

Is there a ceiling fan in the room where you are sitting now? Is the fan quiet or noisy? If it is noisy, you may be sure it is a distant relative of the ‘talking fan’ in the poem which you are going to read. 

Once there was a talking fan - 

Electrical his chatter. 

I couldn’t quite hear what he said 

And I hope it doesn’t matter 

Because one day somebody oiled 

His little whirling motor 

And all the mystery was spoiled - 

He ran as still as water.

TREES BY SHIRLEY BAUER

TREES BY SHIRLEY BAUER

Take a few minutes to tell one another the names of trees that you know or have heard of. Mention the things trees give us.
Then read this poem about trees.....

Trees are for birds. 

Trees are for children. 

Trees are to make tree houses in. 

Trees are to swing swings on. 

Trees are for the wind to blow through. 

Trees are to hide behind in ‘Hide and Seek.’ 

Trees are to have tea parties under. 

Trees are for kites to get caught in. 

Trees are to make cool shade in summer. 

Trees are to make no shade in winter. 

Trees are for apples to grow on, and pears; 

Trees are to chop down and call, “TIMBER-R-R!” 

Trees make mothers say, 

“What a lovely picture to paint!” 

Trees make fathers say, 

“What a lot of leaves to rake this fall!”

CHIVVY BY MICHAEL ROSEN

CHIVVY BY MICHAEL ROSEN 

Grown-ups say things like: 

Speak up 

Don’t talk with your mouth full 

Don’t stare 

Don’t point 

Don’t pick your nose 

Sit up 

Say please 

Less noise 

Shut the door behind you 

Don’t drag your feet 

Haven’t you got a hankie ? 

Take your hands out of 

your pockets 

Pull your socks up 

Stand up straight 

Say thank you 

Don’t interrupt 

No one thinks you’re funny 

Take your elbows off the table 

Can’t you make your own 

mind up about anything ?

THE SQUIRREL BY MILDRED BOWERS ARMSTRONG

THE SQUIRREL BY MILDRED BOWERS ARMSTRONG 

You may have seen a squirrel sitting on the ground eating a nut. What did it look like? Here is a poet’s description of just such a squirrel. 

He wore a question mark for tail, 

An overcoat of gray, 

He sat up straight to eat a nut. 

He liked to tease and play, 

And if we ran around his tree, 

He went the other way.

THE SHED BY FRANK FLYNN

THE SHED BY FRANK FLYNN 

Do you know what a shed is? A cow shed, a tool shed, a wood shed, for example. It’s a small room, away from the main house, for storing or keeping things, animals, tools, vehicles, etc. Ask your partner if she/he has ever seen a shed. Let her/ him describe it to the class. 

Now read the poem……… 

There’s a shed at the bottom of our garden 

With a spider’s web hanging across the door, 

The hinges are rusty and creak in the wind. 

When I’m in bed I lie and I listen, 

I’ll open that door one day. 

There’s a dusty old window around at the side 

With three cracked panes of glass, 

I often think there’s someone staring at me 

Each time that I pass, 

I’ll peep through that window one day. 

My brother says there’s a ghost in the shed 

Who hides under the rotten floorboards, 

And if I ever dare to set foot inside 

He’ll jump out and chop off my head, 

But I’ll take a peek one day. 

I know that there isn’t really a ghost, 

My brother tells lies to keep the shed for his den; 

There isn’t anyone staring or making strange noises 

And the spider has been gone from his web 

since I don’t know when, 

I’ll go into that shed one day soon, But not just yet......