Poetry Fun Too Many Kids in this Tub

  • Slides: 9
Download presentation
Poetry Fun

Poetry Fun

Too Many Kids in this Tub Author: Shel Silverstein There's too many kids in

Too Many Kids in this Tub Author: Shel Silverstein There's too many kids in this tub There's too many elbows to scrub I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine There's too many kids in this tub.

My Brother's Not a Werewolf By: Kenn Nesbitt My brother's not a werewolf though

My Brother's Not a Werewolf By: Kenn Nesbitt My brother's not a werewolf though it often looks that way. He has to shave his whiskers almost every single day. His feet are getting furry and his hands are sprouting hair. His voice is deep and growling like a grumpy grizzly bear. He often sleeps throughout the day and stays up half the night. And if you saw the way he eats you'd surely scream in fright. His clothes are ripped and dirty like the stuff a werewolf wears. His socks and shirts are shredded and his pants have countless tears. If you should ever meet him you'll discover what I mean. My brother's not a werewolf; he's just turning seventeen.

Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face Jack Prelutsky • Be glad your

Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face Jack Prelutsky • 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!

No Pencil Kenn Nesbitt No pencil. No marker. No paint brush. No pen. No

No Pencil Kenn Nesbitt No pencil. No marker. No paint brush. No pen. No nothing to draw with or paint with again. No blue paint. No green paint. No pink paint. No red. Mom takes them away when I color my head.

A Poem Is A Little Path A poem is a little path That leads

A Poem Is A Little Path A poem is a little path That leads you through the trees. It takes you to the cliffs and shores, To anywhere you please. Follow it and trust your way With mind and heart as one, And when the journey's over, You'll find you've just begun. From The 20 th Century Children's Poetry Treasury, Knopf, 1999, © Charles Ghigna. What do you think about when you hear the word POETRY? There are many kinds of poems: Some poems make us LAUGH. Some poems make us THINK. Some poems are SHORT & FUNNY. Some poems are LONG & SERIOUS. Some poems RHYME. Some poems DO NOT RHYME. What KINDS of poems have you read? What KINDS of poems have you written?

Poetry Hides… Poetry hides in the softness of my pillow Poetry hides in the

Poetry Hides… Poetry hides in the softness of my pillow Poetry hides in the spikiness of an armadillo Poetry hides in your sweaty armpits after a run Poetry hides in the brightness of a sun Poetry hides in a powerful laser beam Poetry hides in a strong, cooperative baseball team Poetry hides in water that is as blue as diamonds gliding in the sky. Poetry hides in my all time favorite, Boston cream pie Poetry hides in my baby niece’s dimples Poetry hides in unwanted pimples Poetry hides in Julia’s habit of calling out Poetry hides in the rareness of finding a rainbow trout Poetry hides in the silly songs Katy Perry creates Poetry hides in the difficultness of memorizing all 50 states Poetry hides in the drizzling of rain Poetry hides in people, patiently waiting for the train Poetry hides in Winnie the Pooh’s obsession for honey Poetry hides in Michael’s fail attempt to be funny Poetry hides everywhere around you!

Poetry Hides… Between the buttons on the remote control and behind the off button

Poetry Hides… Between the buttons on the remote control and behind the off button of the gaming console. Poetry hides with every click of the mouse and tap of the computer. Poetry hides during skypes, tweets, and chats. Poetry hides with each kick of the ball and each turn of the page. Poetry hides with each car ride here or there. Poetry hides where everyone can see it, whenever you decide to start looking for it

ABC Poems

ABC Poems