Poetry Assembly
Friday, 3rd October 2014
Here are the poems learned and recited by the boys in the
Junior House, to celebrate National Poetry Day this year
(National Poetry Day fell on Thursday, 2nd October). The
theme this year was Remember. A huge well done to
everyone involved!
Reception (both classes):
Bonfire Night Poem
Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder treason and plot,
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Anon
James Whistler
1K:
Things To Remember
The buttercups in May,
The wild rose on the spray,
The poppy in the hay,
The primrose in the dell,
The freckled foxglove bell,
The honeysuckle’s smell
Are things I would remember
When cheerless, raw November
Makes room for dark December.
James Reeves
Claude Monet
1F:
Tyrannosaurus Rex
I am the BIGGEST dinosaur,
my neck is as tall as a tree.
I am TYRANNOSAURUS REX,
don’t touch me!
I am the BIGGEST dinosaur,
my body’s as big as a lorry.
I am TYRANNOSAURUS REX,
if you touch me you’ll be sorry!
I am the BIGGEST dinosaur,
my tail is as strong as a train.
I am TYRANNOSAURUS REX,
I am the King of the Plain!
Judith Nicholls
2V:
Thirty Days Hath September
Thirty days hath September,
April, June and November;
February has twenty eight alone,
All the rest have thirty-one,
Except in Leap Year, that's the time
When February's Days are twenty-nine
Anon
2S:
My Dog Ate My Homework
My dog ate my homework.
That mischievous pup
got hold of my homework
and gobbled it up.
My dog ate my homework.
It's gonna be late.
I guess that the teacher
will just have to wait.
My dog ate my homework.
He swallowed it whole.
I shouldn't have mixed it
with food in his bowl.
Kenn Nesbitt
3LC:
Always Remember
Always remember to forget
the things that made you sad.
But never forget to REMEMBER
the things that made you glad...
Always remember to forget
the friends that proved untrue.
But don't forget to REMEMBER
those that have stuck by you...
Always remember to forget
the troubles that have passed away.
But never forget to REMEMBER
the blessings that come each day...
Anon
3LS:
Poppies
Why are they selling poppies, mother? Selling poppies in town
today?
The poppy, my child, is the flower of love for the men who
marched away.
Why did they choose a poppy, mother? Why not a beautiful
rose?
Because, my child, men fought and died in the fields where the
poppy grows.
But why is the poppy so red?
Red is the colour of blood, my child, the blood that our soldiers
shed.
The heart of the poppy is black, mother. Why does it have to be
black?
Black is the symbol of grief, my child, for the men who never
came back.
But why, mother dear, are you crying so? Your tears are like
winter rain.
My tears are my fears for you, my child, for the world is
forgetting again.
John F. Willcocks