| New Role Annemarie Watermann |
| Kids Poems, Art, Comics & Lyrics |
| This is about a toddler who becomes a big brother for the first time. My baby brother is tiny, At times he can be whiny, As I watch him in the crib, Soon when he eats, he’ll need a bib. While now he’s no fun at all, Hope he’ll soon learn to crawl, Later we’ll be able to play tag, I’ll teach him how to zigzag. Growing up He’ll learn to ice skate, But for now that will have to wait, There are so many things to learn, Something is there at every turn. Being a big brother can be scary, Maybe I’ll teach him vocabulary, So glad that he is here to stay, Can’t wait for his first birthday. |
| Taken from the book THE BUSY BUS by Marsha Casper Cook |
Taken from the book THE BUSY BUS by Marsha Casper Cook |
The Lessons |
9 a.m., the first lesson bell rings, all still in assembly, again Mr. Smith droning on; the teachers groan - bang goes that test... Well, it's a lesson off the cuff now, nothing new, it's happened often enough. The girls drift in to lessons, it's ten minutes past, the teacher hands out sheets fast, fast, fast, explains at breakneck speed what to do; then the first hand goes up, 'Can I go to the loo?' Another hand is raised, 'Will we get our homework back today?' 'No, get on with your work, Fay.' A third hand shows, 'Will we get it back tomorrow?' 'I don't know.' A fourth hand shoots up, 'Will we get it back by the end of the week?' Who's that? Susan? But she's normally so meek... 'When will we get our homework back?' 'When I've had time to mark it – and that's that!' The bell goes, everyone packs up. So much for that lesson - thanks, Mr. Smith, thanks a million! The third lesson, after break, hair and uniform now a mess, the pupils enter the classroom and the teacher starts to sigh: 'Tie your hair back', 'Do your shoelaces up', 'Pull your socks up', 'Do your cuffs up', 'Do your top button up', 'Roll down your skirt! Whom are you trying to impress?' The pupils meander to their seats, fish out their books. It's Year 9 Maths, Division 3 - What joy! the teacher thinks. Now, let's see... A simple sum to start, 'What's 3 x 6?' A hand flies up, the answer's easy of course - '36!' The teacher tries once more to explain multiplication: 'What about 4 x 4...?' Down the corridor Year 7, wrestling hard with Geography, 'Where's Cornwall?' the teacher asks. 'In Wales', a pupil replies. The teacher sighs and tries once more. 'The water separating France from England?' 'The Atlantic,' someone shouts. 'No, it's not, it's the Pacific.' Wow, what a lesson this is, it's just terrific! Some Gallic greetings waft through the air, it's Year 8 French performing role plays with flair - at least that's what they think and the teacher doesn't really care! Yet slowly their enthusiasm wins him around, piques his interest - what's that he's found? A pupil with a promising accent! What a coup! And then the mediocrity starts again: 'Est-ce que je peux aller...to the toilet, Monsieur Jones?' 'Aux toilettes, Poppy, aux toilettes!' 'Oui, est-ce que je peux aller aux toilettes?' 'Vite, Poppy, vite!' 'Et moi...aller...to sick bay, Monsieur? J'ai... headache', The teacher sighs and tries again, something always driving him on.... What? The desire to inspire, to light the fire that burns within, the 'aha' in the expression when something clicks - that's the reward for hours and hours of work and patience, a reward of infinite measure, a priceless, unlimited treasure. Copyright © 2008 Helena Harper |
The Duties |
Assembly duty, break duty, dining room duty, patrol; detention duty, gate duty, what could be more droll? How delightful it is to see the form rooms in a state, rubbish scattered round the bins used as target practice like chocolate shavings from a cake. Paper and books decorate the floor and sticky handprints ornament the door; grudging hands clear up at last and mobile phones and iPods are confiscated fast. Whoops! There's a girl hanging out the window, better get in there quick before something worse happens and someone gets sick. Now wait a moment, what's happening here? They're holding onto the door, the handle's refusing to shift. Let's give a shout - ah ha, that's done it! Now they know there's a member of staff about - now, what's up? The mountain of giggles slowly subsides and when the crowd thins the cause of the laughter's clearly revealed: a girl wrapped in a carpet, sausage-like on top of lockers high, rolling to and fro like a drunken maniac - ‘Are you mad?’ comes the cry. The names of all are taken with assurances of reprisals extreme, and the patrol continues with promises of pleasures too numerous to mention... What a joy it all is, this - my marvellous, superb, magnificent creation! Dining room duty's a favourite because nothing excites more than to check lunch passes screwed up in washing machines - names impenetrable and photos invisible - and where anyone will try, when your back is turned, to slip in on the sly. Gate duty too, a wonderful task - as the pupils troop homeward appearance must be checked. Is that the right jacket and coat and what about that scarf green and red? Blue murder they cry when confiscation comes, but it can't be avoided, I'm afraid - going against school rules, as everyone knows, has a price to be paid. And so the duties brighten the day, lightening the hours and making the staff gay, so incredibly gay! Copyright © 2008 Helena Harper |
The Trips |
Coach booked, catering requisition complete, codes of conduct signed, staff selected, activities designed - now what else? Of course! How could I forget? The infamous risk assessment hanging like lead around my neck. Now let's see... Accidents, mugging, kidnapping, theft, terrorism, soul-searching, acts of God, sneezing and stumbling - it's all there. No, wait a moment, eating, drinking, thinking, blinking and breathing must go in... Is that it? Who can say? I don't care - I'm ready to throw the accursed thing in the bin! The day arrives, registration in the hall, pupils high as kites - they're having an absolute ball. The names are called above the din, but where is dratted Sally Finn? She's already 10 minutes late! Too bad, got to hurry now - can't afford to stay and wait. The museum reached, the pupils alight, blocking the pavement for passers-by. The teachers shout and wave and gesticulate and finally the pupils move to gather in the groups they've been assigned; then into the building they snake, ready to coil and suffocate anyone else who crosses their path. Strangers, beware, you don't want today to be your last! From exhibit to exhibit from room to room they pass, filling in sheets full of questions and tasks; a scribble here, a scribble there - that'll do, what else? Don't know, the pupil thinks, got to dash to the loo. What's this? A sketch? But I can't draw and look - they're still ten pages more! 'Mrs. Smith, when's lunch?' 'Half an hour' comes the reply. What? Half an hour? Oh no! That's just too long! 'Susan, Susan, what have you got to munch? 12.30 strikes and out they slither, lunch in the park - can't eat inside, there are just too many. The March wind cuts face and hands and ices the bone, and the packed lunch of soggy roll and tasteless cheese does nothing to warm the inner zone. Hurry, hurry, hurry, let's get back inside – quick! I'm freezing cold and this lunch is making me sick! The afternoon passes in similar vein with an obligatory trip for souvenirs, and suddenly the pupils show enthusiasm - mild though it may be - for this counts as shopping, their leisure-time God, you see. The coaches are filled and the slow, traffic-laden return begins. Staff doze, and pupils rush to overdose on iPods or MP3s... At last the school's in sight; the coaches roll up and disgorge their contents with rapid glee; the pupils greet waiting parents and the teachers troop thankfully in for tea. At last one can relax, the pupils are gone! Still tomorrow's lessons to think about and prepare, but the yawns gather pace and limbs remain stubborn, rooting the body to seat and chair. Remind me next year that these trips are definitely definitely definitely not a good idea! Copyright © 2008 Helena Harper |
| Excerpt from "Moving Through All Seven Days" by Kathy Stemke |
Slipping, sliding, spin and play,
Fun on Sunday, that’s the way.
Skate on Sunday. Don’t be shy,
S-u-n, d-a-y!
Moving, grooving, don’t you see.
Monday’s fun day, move with me.
March on Monday, step up high.
M-o-n, d-a-y!
Twisting, twirling, tickle a friend.
Tuesday’s the day to pretend.
Turn on Tuesday, my, oh, my.
T-u-e-s, d-a-y!
| This book inspires movement as children learn about the days of the week. The lyrical rhymes also teach them how to spell each day! The activities at the end of the book are designed to reinforce the concepts as well as give impetus to movement exploration. |
The Horribles by Carolyn Watson Dubisch "IN A HORRIBLE PLACE IN A HORRIBLE HOUSE WHERE HORRIBLE CREATURES DWELL. THEY'RE COMING HERE AND THEY'RE COMING SOON. THEY WILL CAST YOU UNDER THEIR SPELL!" Described as fractured fairy tales for all ages. This webcomic has recieved rave reviews and now has over 1000 readers each week. To read this great comic for kids go to... http://www.TheHorribles.SmackJeeves.com http://www.DrunkDuck.com/The_Horribles http://www.Webcomicsnation.com/carolyn |
I am a snowstorm brewing
I wonder at dark clouds looming
I hear rumbles in the distance
I see icicles forming
I want to shout with the gale wind
I am a snowstorm brewing
I pretend I am BOSS
I feel torn up like snowflakes
I touch clouds that aren’t there
I worry about everything
I cry like coyotes
I am a snowstorm brewing
I don’t understand when you don’t call me
I say you don’t care
I dream about perfect peace by the winter fire
I try to say I’m sorry
I hope for another chance
I am a snowstorm brewing
I AM By A. C. Carolan |
| Cartoon Picture by Wendy Whittingham |
The Little Pot
by Dawn Stephens
by Dawn Stephens
| "A Message of Love" by April Robins |
Katie Lee’s Christmas Toys
A short rhyming play
by
Jackie Marx
Katie Lee's Christmas toys sit on a shelf waiting
for her to play with them. The house is quiet.
Did Katie Lee forget them? Did she move away?
CHARACTERS
NARRATOR, a storyteller type,
GRANNY DOLLY, 'Little House on the Prairie' type,
FANCY DOLLY, elegant and a bit aloof,
BUDDY BEAR, a scrappy brown bear,
KATIE LEE, a sweet young thing.
TIME and PLACE
Two weeks after Christmas,
Katie Lee's closet shelf, Katie Lee's bedroom.
SCENE
Two weeks after Christmas, Katie Lee’s toys, GRANNY
DOLLY, FANCY DOLLY and BUDDY BEAR sit upon her
closet shelf, gathering dust.
NARRATOR observes as the toys come to life.
FANCY DOLLY stands up and straightens the skirt on
her fancy dress.
NARRATOR points to FANCY DOLLY.
NARRATOR
Fancy Dolly.
FANCY DOLLY
(slight curtsy, with an attitude)
Here by folly.
NARRATOR
Granny Dolly.
GRANNY DOLLY
(near tears, waving shyly)
Gosh, oh golly.
NARRATOR
Buddy Bear.
BUDDY BEAR
Stuck on a shelf.
GRANNY DOLLY, FANCY DOLLY
(in unison)
At least you’re not stuck by yourself.
The toys start to mix it up a bit.
BUDDY BEAR
What’s the diff? What good are you?
GRANNY DOLLY, FANCY DOLLY
(in unison)
Well, I never.
NARRATOR
(whistles sharply)
Toys! That will do!
(CONT’D)
NARRATOR waits until the toys settle down and then
continues.
NARRATOR (CONT’D)
(addressing the audience)
Katie made her list with care.
(reading from the list)
I want two dollies and a bear.
(back to the audience)
So Santa sent the toys her way.
She ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ on Christmas Day.
For one whole week they were adored;
since New Year’s Day they’ve been ignored.
Made just for her by Santa’s elves,
now they sit on closet shelves.
BUDDY BEAR
I should be jumping on her bed.
FANCY DOLLY looks down from the shelf.
FANCY DOLLY
(making a move for the edge)
I’m getting down.
BUDDY BEAR
(pulling her back, protectively)
You’ll break your head.
GRANNY DOLLY
(crying)
Santa said we’d all belong.
BUDDY BEAR
Well, maybe fatso got it wrong!
FANCY DOLLY
(reflecting)
She dressed me up...
GRANNY DOLLY
(reflecting)
She served me tea...
FANCY DOLLY
I can’t believe--
GRANNY DOLLY
Oh, my. Oh me.
The toys step on each other’s lines in the next exchange.
BUDDY BEAR
She never cared--
FANCY DOLLY
She loved us well--
BUDDY BEAR
I saw the signs--
GRANNY DOLLY
I couldn’t tell--
BUDDY BEAR
Let’s leave a stocking filled with coal,
And hitch a sleigh ride to the Pole.
Would serve her right, for what she’s done.
FANCY DOLL
(finger to her lips)
Shhh! Someone’s coming everyone.
GRANNY DOLLY
I just heard the floorboards creaking.
BUDDY BEAR
(whispering)
Girls! Be still.
FANCY DOLLY
(shushing him)
Shh. No speaking.
KATIE LEE ENTERS the closet.
The toys relax when they see it is KATIE LEE and not an
adult.
KATIE LEE
My dearest friends, are you okay?
I’ve missed you all since New Year’s Day;
we went to visit Auntie Sue.
The toys are silent, waiting for more.
KATIE LEE (CONT’D)
I plan to make it up to you!
SCENE FADES on the smiling friends.
NIGHT CHANGES TO DAY.
NARRATOR sits in a chair in the corner of Katie Lee’s
bedroom, observing.
BUDDY BEAR (now a stuffed bear) is upright on the bed.
FANCY DOLLY and GRANNY DOLLY (now actual dolls)
are sitting at the tea table with KATIE LEE.
KATIE LEE pours tea.
NARRATOR
Katie meant just what she said,
Old Buddy’s bouncing on her bed,
Happy dollies sip their tea
with their dearest, darling Katie Lee
SCENE FADES on the happy ending.
END OF PLAY
A short rhyming play
by
Jackie Marx
Katie Lee's Christmas toys sit on a shelf waiting
for her to play with them. The house is quiet.
Did Katie Lee forget them? Did she move away?
CHARACTERS
NARRATOR, a storyteller type,
GRANNY DOLLY, 'Little House on the Prairie' type,
FANCY DOLLY, elegant and a bit aloof,
BUDDY BEAR, a scrappy brown bear,
KATIE LEE, a sweet young thing.
TIME and PLACE
Two weeks after Christmas,
Katie Lee's closet shelf, Katie Lee's bedroom.
SCENE
Two weeks after Christmas, Katie Lee’s toys, GRANNY
DOLLY, FANCY DOLLY and BUDDY BEAR sit upon her
closet shelf, gathering dust.
NARRATOR observes as the toys come to life.
FANCY DOLLY stands up and straightens the skirt on
her fancy dress.
NARRATOR points to FANCY DOLLY.
NARRATOR
Fancy Dolly.
FANCY DOLLY
(slight curtsy, with an attitude)
Here by folly.
NARRATOR
Granny Dolly.
GRANNY DOLLY
(near tears, waving shyly)
Gosh, oh golly.
NARRATOR
Buddy Bear.
BUDDY BEAR
Stuck on a shelf.
GRANNY DOLLY, FANCY DOLLY
(in unison)
At least you’re not stuck by yourself.
The toys start to mix it up a bit.
BUDDY BEAR
What’s the diff? What good are you?
GRANNY DOLLY, FANCY DOLLY
(in unison)
Well, I never.
NARRATOR
(whistles sharply)
Toys! That will do!
(CONT’D)
NARRATOR waits until the toys settle down and then
continues.
NARRATOR (CONT’D)
(addressing the audience)
Katie made her list with care.
(reading from the list)
I want two dollies and a bear.
(back to the audience)
So Santa sent the toys her way.
She ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ on Christmas Day.
For one whole week they were adored;
since New Year’s Day they’ve been ignored.
Made just for her by Santa’s elves,
now they sit on closet shelves.
BUDDY BEAR
I should be jumping on her bed.
FANCY DOLLY looks down from the shelf.
FANCY DOLLY
(making a move for the edge)
I’m getting down.
BUDDY BEAR
(pulling her back, protectively)
You’ll break your head.
GRANNY DOLLY
(crying)
Santa said we’d all belong.
BUDDY BEAR
Well, maybe fatso got it wrong!
FANCY DOLLY
(reflecting)
She dressed me up...
GRANNY DOLLY
(reflecting)
She served me tea...
FANCY DOLLY
I can’t believe--
GRANNY DOLLY
Oh, my. Oh me.
The toys step on each other’s lines in the next exchange.
BUDDY BEAR
She never cared--
FANCY DOLLY
She loved us well--
BUDDY BEAR
I saw the signs--
GRANNY DOLLY
I couldn’t tell--
BUDDY BEAR
Let’s leave a stocking filled with coal,
And hitch a sleigh ride to the Pole.
Would serve her right, for what she’s done.
FANCY DOLL
(finger to her lips)
Shhh! Someone’s coming everyone.
GRANNY DOLLY
I just heard the floorboards creaking.
BUDDY BEAR
(whispering)
Girls! Be still.
FANCY DOLLY
(shushing him)
Shh. No speaking.
KATIE LEE ENTERS the closet.
The toys relax when they see it is KATIE LEE and not an
adult.
KATIE LEE
My dearest friends, are you okay?
I’ve missed you all since New Year’s Day;
we went to visit Auntie Sue.
The toys are silent, waiting for more.
KATIE LEE (CONT’D)
I plan to make it up to you!
SCENE FADES on the smiling friends.
NIGHT CHANGES TO DAY.
NARRATOR sits in a chair in the corner of Katie Lee’s
bedroom, observing.
BUDDY BEAR (now a stuffed bear) is upright on the bed.
FANCY DOLLY and GRANNY DOLLY (now actual dolls)
are sitting at the tea table with KATIE LEE.
KATIE LEE pours tea.
NARRATOR
Katie meant just what she said,
Old Buddy’s bouncing on her bed,
Happy dollies sip their tea
with their dearest, darling Katie Lee
SCENE FADES on the happy ending.
END OF PLAY
| Mermaid Song by Caroline Brooke Splashing girl with ponytails Swimming with her scaly green tail Skimming on the swirling sea Singing as she surfs in glee Skipping on each sapphire crest Sinking into the silky sea to rest Sea turtle carries her into the light Stretching up she sings in delight Sleepy eyes scan the land She slides into the summer, sunny sand Silly dolphins sing and seahorses bring Shiny pearls to adorn her curls Shaping castles of shimmering sand Sparkling eyes tell stories from sea and land |
© 2009 Caroline Brooke
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| To: Robin Falls |