‘The Land of Neverbelieve’ by Norman Messenger is an invitation to create fantastical islands. I used the book as part of a series of online workshops with TeachingLive to create new islands, creatures and plants.
To warm up, we played an oral game in pairs, with a limit of 4 minutes. The children created new flowers from imagined ingredients. We listed different parts of flowers: roots, stem, flower, fruit, leaf, pollen, petals, etc. I provided a simple frame to help generate ideas:
Instructions for making a flower
To make the roots, I would use –
the straggly hair of wild woman,
thick electricity cables
and rats’ tails.
To make the trunk, I would use….
To make the petals, I would use… etc.
Next, I asked the children to name their flower. I showed a list of real flower names many of which are ‘compounds’: snapdragon, milkweed, bluebell, goldenrod, etc. I suggested they create something similar: sunlily, moonrose, streetiris, etc.
Next, they described the different parts of their flower using similes. We wrote together a few ideas before they created their own:
The sunlily’s petals are like paper-thin flags, as soft as Parisian silk and blue as a summer sky.
The rainrose’s roots are like the dark threads from ancient tapestry, as tough as a leather handbag and dark as a mole’s tunnel.
In the next ten minutes, the children wrote using personification to bring their plant alive. I modelled sentences with the class; we banked a list of useful verbs: stand, lean, stoop, whisper, scratch, grasp, etc.
The pincushion flower stands like a soldier with its sharp spikes waiting to scratch.
The goldenlupin stoops when the snow smothers its branches, bowing its skeletal head like an old man at prayer.
Finally, I shared a model poem and asked them to write about their own plants, drawing on a similar structure (open with the name of your plant – then describe parts of the plant, using imagery and personification). My poem is followed by two examples from St Anthony’s Primary School.
Moonflowers blossom
like silver umbrellas,
stretching out green vines
that grasp onto nearby trees.
Their red roots,
like wire, dig deep
into soft soil
that crumbles
easily as fruit cake.
The green stem juts up,
like a flexible straw,
as green as cat’s eyes.
Leaves hang
like soft fingernails.
Pastel pale flowers,
edged with red, yawn
to reveal the secret stash
of pollen gold.
Pie Corbett
Flameblossom trees bend and dance in the breeze, Like flexible gymnasts. Their branches lean and creak with grace, Grabbing at the shining sun. The trunks are as rough as tractor tires, Covered in brown, sticky mud. With bark as shiny as solid gold, Cracking at every problem it overcomes. The roots are like stretchy elastic, Pulling the tree down with all its might. Twigs as skinny as a clock’s hand, Snapping at every emotion. Leaves as smooth as plush velvet, That fall down every autumn that arrives.
By Poppy
Wintertrees shed beads of frosty sweat,
They skate their branches through the snow,
pushing like a sledge,
speeding down paths of gravel.
Their roots like the icy carcass of a mushroom,
clinging to the ground.
The trunk is sharp like an icicle’s speech,
staying in the mind forever.
Bark, rough as gnarled hands, withered in the sun.
Leaves, calm as silk, tangerine, tiger and marmalade,
crimson, currant and candy, corn, canary and butter,
smothered in chiffon snow.
Twigs, like fingers, clawing at the sky.
The land, where it sits, is pearl-shaded snow,
with spikes of sapphire icicles dotting here and there.
Memories clinging, in the branches and leaves so kind.
The secret to life,
hollowed out inside.
Waiting for someone,
to wonder by…
By Maya
Pie Corbett
Pie Corbett is a teacher-poet. He runs online training for teachers and every Monday works with about 6,000 children on @TeachingLive, running writing sessions of poetry, creative nonfiction and story.
The mask poetry and art project brought together young artists and writers from Coastlands (C) and Gomersal (G) Primary schools to work with the @TeachingLive team online. Gomersal had been designing and creating masks as part of their work on Mayans.
The schools worked with me for one online session, writing images and ideas based on masks. In pairs, we began with an oral game to warm up the imagination. Partner A invents a type of mask using a colour, e.g. The gold mask … and partner B invents 2 or 3 things that it is made of, e.g. … is made from a bumble bee’s wings and sunlight on a stained glass window. Roles were swapped after several minutes. Using padlet, we shifted on to writing ideas:
The emerald green mask is made from the shed skin of a lizard’s scales, and the sharp spikes of a cactus, Grace (G)
The mask of space is made from the soul of Jupiter, the skin of a dozen stars and the ash of the Milky Way. Lucy (G)
Following a discussion about creating sound effects with alliteration and imagery to build pictures, we wrote lines about what would happen if you put on different masks:
I put on the mask of summer
and I felt a whisper of sunlight. Mason (C)
I put on the mask of Autumn,
and Halloween disappeared
like a droplet in the sunshine. Millie (C)
I put on the mask of joy
and sad shafts of sunlight surrounded me. Zoe (C)
I put on the mask of green
and smelt the lizard’s paws. Jason (C))
The final writing challenge was to create a mask out of ingredients that you might see, hear, touch, taste or smell.
I would take the sound of a fox snuffling under the stars.
Seb (C)
I would take the taste of my Nana’s freshly cooked and sliced gammon and her tasty roast potatoes.
Willow (G)
I would take the touch of a soft, plush cloud, the velvety feel of cherry blossom petals and juice trickling through my outstretched fingers.
Willow (G)
The online session lasted an hour and we were able to give immediate feedback to almost all the ideas as they were written. Several weeks later, poems and masks poured onto the website.
I put on the masks of wild
and remembered the importance of bees.
Sebastian (C)
When I wear the coral mask of autumn
I think of
pumpkins that have just been carved,
Golden Marigolds sharing their secrets…
Millie (C)
The mask of shadows is made from
A feather from Lucifer’s wing,
Mason (C)
The Mask of Joy
If you look at the world around you
and see plastic pollution,
wars in Ukraine,
squabbling politicians,
troubled people fighting
and rainforests dying,
You could put on your mask of joy
and listen to the laughter of the crows,
to the sea swishing in the shingle.
You could feel the swift of air
and marvel in the mystery
of life swirling through the trees.
And once you feel more cheerful,
you can take off your mask
and hide it away safely
so it’s there whenever you might need it.
Zoe (C)
When I wear my forest mask I smell the dampness of the earth and the sweet scent of the primroses scattered through the glade like stars. Eva (C)
Leave me the mask The one full of pain That is scarred and wounded Hobbling across the cut grass. Emma (C)
Linking art and writing provides the opportunity to process ideas and build images and metaphors in different ways.
Pie Corbett
Thanks to the teachers: Wenda Davies and Mandy Barrett.
We wish all our readers a very Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year. Thank you to the poets who have generously sent us poems, Pie Corbett, Sue Hardy-Dawson, Jackie Hosking, Laura Mucha, Attie Lime, Jacqueline Shirtliff, Roger Stevens, Celia Warren and Sarah Ziman.
Those who do not write might expect that creativity starts with the blank page. However, writing with constraint, under specific instruction, pattern or imposition, often liberates creativity. The trick is to make sure that the constraint does not limit the possibilities but acts as a way of opening up, providing a scaffold rather like a coat-hanger for ideas.
Whilst I love the ballads of Charles Causley, as a model for writing they provide too sophisticated a challenge for almost every primary child. However, writing a number poem from 1 to 10 which uses alliteration is enough of a challenge to generate writing that demands thought:
One white walrus waggles a weary wand at a wonderful washerwoman.
Two testy trains tried to tackle a tremendous, tantalising tin of tomatoes.
A moment ago, neither the walrus nor the washerwoman existed but the constraint forced me to sift ideas, dredge my mind for alliterative possibilities and use the underlying sentence pattern to bring something new into being.
Alphabets offer a structure that releases ideas as the pattern is sufficiently simple for everyone to use. This list is based on advice for a hobbit on an adventure:
Avoid alleyways which may appear useful as an avenue of escape but almost invariably are dark, poorly lit and have robbers waiting.
Bridges are usually manned by bridge elves and may have aggressive trolls underneath.
Caverns and caves offer shelter. However, goblins and dragons live underground…
The 1960’s OuLiPo movement used mathematical formula to produce strange and rather dull writing. However, adopting a writing form such as a recipe can liberate. This extract is from a recipe for the desire for beauty by Beth, year 6.
Pick an eyelash from Aphrodite’s lemon hair.
Grab a pair of emerald frog’s legs so you can leap Mount Olympus,
Rip a page out of Tom Riddle’s diary full of blankness and mystery,
Grind the lime tangled vines that reach out from the corners of your room…
Alongside the constraint of a recipe format, another challenge in this poetry workshop was to ‘name it’. This shifts from the general to the particular so that ‘an eyelash from your hair’ becomes ‘an eyelash from Aphrodite’s hair’. It is the difference between, ‘the man got in the car’ and ‘Boris Johnson got into the Skoda’. ‘Naming it’ helps to strengthen an image.
Another popular constraint requires the writer to write a passage and then swap all the nouns or verbs for fruit or vegetables. So that, ‘I woke up this morning, climbed out of my bed and brushed my teeth before running down the stairs’ becomes ‘I appled up this morning, lemoned out of my bed and pineappled my teeth before bananaing down the stairs’ or ‘I woke up this marrow, climbed out of my potato and brushed my runner beans before running down the cucumber’. What fun!
A recent and more challenging idea that I have been playing with involves exploring how one thing leads to another – poetic inevitability.
As a result of dark clouds – snowmen gather at dusk.
As a result of snowmen – no carrots for lunch.
As a result of lunch – empty fridge.
As a result of empty fridge – trip to supermarket.
As a result of supermarket – plastic wrappings in bin.
As a result of plastic – dead dolphin.
As a result of dolphin – sewn sea.
As a result of sea – dark clouds above.
The success of a poetry writing session is not just about an interesting idea, model or constraint – it also hinges around 3 key conditions: a class brainstorm; share write a class poem; and children writing in silence with a time-limit to create a sense of meditative concentration.
Pie Corbett
Pie Corbett’s latest collection ‘Catalysts’ has over 130 catalyst poems that act as models, offering patterns and constraints for writing. Ideal for primary schools and anyone interested in writing. Available from: https://shop.talk4writing.com/products/catalysts-poems-for-writing
As the third in a new series of Poets’ Profiles, we asked
Pie Corbett to talk about being a children’s poet
Who are you?
Pie Corbett – poet, storyteller and writer, anthologist, ex teacher, Head and Inspector. I run ‘Talk for Writing’ which is an approach to teaching writing used round the world.
How long have you been writing poetry for children?
I started writing my own poetry when I was at school. I met Brian Moses at teacher training college about 43 years ago and we began writing model poems for children.
How did you get started?
Like many poets of about my age, I was influenced by the Liverpool Poets – Roger McGough, Adrian Henri and Brian Patten. Their writing made me feel that I could write something similar… or, at the least, have a go. I read a lot of poetry and had two other influences. Kenneth Koch was an American writer who often used a repeating line such as ‘I wish I was…’ or ‘I used to… but now…’. The poems were very playful and this worked really well in my own writing and in my teaching. In many ways, the total opposite of Koch was the writer Ted Hughes whose writing focussed upon close observation of the natural world and using the writing to capture and celebrate experience. I used his approach in my own writing and in the classroom – we wrote about a stuffed fox, a rusted bicycle, our hands, tree bark, cats, snow fall and so on. As Sally (9 years) said, ‘you have to try and say what things are really like’.
What do you enjoy about writing?
When I am writing, I block out everything else. I love the tussle with words, creating new images or ideas and the way in which something that has never existed before can appear. I always read my writing aloud because I want the writing to flow. I like the way that poetry is a blend of meaning and music. Many of my poems are like diary entries. When I read a poem from years ago, I can remember where I was and what was happening. Poems, when they work, are little nuggets of life and joy that have been preserved. I see them like jars of preserved fruit, sitting on a shelf glowing in the sunlight. Whenever I take a jar down and read the poem, I can still taste the original experience.
Catalysts, Poems for Writing, Pie Corbett, pub: Talk for Writing, only available here.
Have you any poetry writing tips you’d like to share with us?
Like almost every writer, I keep a notebook with me. I raid life for ideas so I am always on the lookout for possibilities. I raid life. When I am writing a poem, I need silence and to concentrate really hard. I keep rereading, as I write, to check the sense and flow and to get the next idea. Three key tips:
‘Name it’ – it is not a ‘dog’ but a ‘poodle’ – as soon as you ‘name’ the noun, you create a stronger image.
Strengthen verbs – not ‘the dog went’ but ‘the dog bounded’… or ’the dog limped’…
Beware of adjectives, e.g. The big giant (aren’t they all big?) – do you need any? Avoid using adjectives that mean the same sort of thing (weary, tired, exhausted, drowsy). Also watch out for adverbs – do you really need to say ‘she whispered quietly’?
Evidence of Dragons, Pie Corbett, Pub: Macmillan
Which is your favourite amongst the books you’ve written?
My collection Evidence of Dragons (Macmillan Children’s Books) has all my favourite poems. I’ve just published Catalysts – poems for writing’ (available from https://shop.talk4writing.com/products/catalysts-poems-for-writing ) which is a collection of over 130 model poems that can be used for teaching but also by anyone who loves writing. There are some poems in that book that I love – ‘The Dream Catcher’ is a long poem that captures all shades of life.
Which book was most important in your career as a poet?
In about 1983, Brian and I wrote a book together for teachers called Catapults and Kingfishers (Oxford University Press) and that helped us both get noticed. Then the poet-anthologist John Foster published some of my poems in the Oxford Poetry series. This helped me to begin to take my own writing more seriously. Rice, Pie and Moses (Macmillan Children’s Books) gave me a chance to put out a selection of poems, some of which have been published in other parts of the world. The collection was by John Rice, Brian Moses and myself. I’ve enjoyed publishing over 20 anthologies; my favourite was The King’s Pyjamas.
Anything else you’d like to tell us?
If you like writing then keep reading, keep writing and bathe yourself in all that life has to offer.
Pie Corbett
Pie Corbett is a teacher-poet – his collection ‘Evidence of `Dragons’ is used in many classrooms. He has published and edited over 250 books, runs ‘Talk for Writing’ and was made an honorary Doctor of Letters for services to creativity, poetry and social justice by the Open University. He runs online training for teachers and every Monday works with about 6,000 children on @TeachingLive, running writing sessions of poetry, creative nonfiction and story.
As a teacher-writer, I often use surrealist procedures because, ‘Poetry should be made by all. Not one’. The Surrealist’s first manifesto argued that the imagination should be free; every human was endowed with imagination; through various games and techniques, ‘the marvelous is within everyone’s reach’. These ideals suggest that every child can succeed uniquely, opening playful possibilities. Early on, I used simple approaches such as Kenneth Koch’s suggestion to write about dreams or crazy wishes: ‘I wish I was/ a silver fish swimming in the sunset sea.’ Here are a few games:
Random Pairs – involves juxtaposition of ideas and words. Play in pairs.
Partner A writes down 5 adjectives
Partner B writes down five nouns.
Put lists together and read.
Partner A – adjectives
Partner B – nouns
= new phrase
dark
delivery
dark delivery
ravenous
feet
ravenous feet
soft
festival
soft festival
shiny
horse
shiny horse
pixilated
sunflower
pixilated sunflower
Children MUST combine the words in the order they are written to overcome the desire to combine words into known patterns … clichés. To break this habit, random selection should rule so fresh combinations occur. Lengthen mini sentences or use in paragraphs. Create other constraints:
List pairs of words that alliterate:
Work in threes to create sentences using adjective+noun+verb;
Experiment in fours to produce sentences using adjective+noun+verb+adverb;
Try other combinations, e.g. adjective+noun+verb+simile.
Initial letters and acronyms – in pairs, use initials. Child A lists random adjectives for a given name. Child B lists for the family name:
Harry Potter is – a Hairy Promenade, a Handsome Party, a Helpful Peach …
Use number plates or acronyms such as BBC, ITV, DIY, UFO, FBI, LOL to create mini sentences:
Adjective – Bold
Noun – Baggage
Verb – Celebrates
Consequences – called ‘the exquisite corpse’ by surrealists, play consequences to create sentences. Pieces of paper are passed round from child to child using a grid. Remind children about word classes. Control the movement of the papers to avoid pandemonium! Start simply:
Determiner
Adjective
Noun
Verb
A
shy
egg
sneezes
As children become confident in word classes, expand the grid:
Determiner
Adjective
Noun
Verb
Adverb
Preposition
Determiner
Adjective
Noun
It is important that the paper gets passed on and is folded over so the next child cannot see previous words. Hence, random juxtaposition creates surreal sentences to tweak:
Those pink axes whisper brightly inside that timeless parrot.
Six snoring keys stay exhaustingly below these cold peppers.
Example from a teacher poetry group run by Talk for Writing trainer, Maria Richards.
Vary the grid with different challenges to include phrases, e.g.
Determiner
Adjectives
Noun
Verb
simile
The
snarling, bare-toothed
catalogue
simpers
like a moss-smothered rock
Liam, yr 5, starts his paragraph with a sentence from the game:
Confused, the pencil lay hidden in the chaos of the desk. Why do they hide me away, while I’m destined to write the stories of their imagination? Why trade me for a pen, when my point is ready, sharp and poised for action? Creativity lies within me.
Time traveller’s potlatch – what gifts would you give historical figures or book characters? One version we play involves children in trios passing round folded paper as in the consequences game.
What present would you give: ‘I will give you a mute swan’. Fold paper over and pass on.
Without peeking, extend the description: ‘which is slimmer than a mouse’s whisper.’ Fold and pass.
Add on what the gift might do: ‘and can bake buns faster than pastry chef.’
Surrealist games make poetry accessible, build confidence, break barriers and encourage daring combinations.
Pie Corbett
Pie Corbett is a teacher-poet – his collection ‘Evidence of `Dragons’ is used in many classrooms. He has published and edited over 250 books, runs ‘Talk for Writing’ and was made an honorary Doctor of Letters for services to creativity, poetry and social justice by the Open University. He runs online training for teachers and every Monday works with about 6,000 children on @TeachingLive, running writing sessions of poetry, creative nonfiction and story.
Thank you to Sue for our lovely Robin introduction, and to the other wonderful children’s poets who have sent poems for our Christmas blog 2021. We’d also like to thank all those who have supported us by sending fascinating and illuminating blogs this year.
Angel Dance
…………………………………
See the shepherds with the sheep,
Not one dares to make a peep,
Tonight, no one will go to sleep,
The angels dance above.
…………………………
See the trees turn golden, bright,
The hills are flooded with pure light,
And all feel warm this cold, cold night,
The angels dance above.
…………………………….
See the glint in every eye,
No one asks the question why
Heaven has flooded Earth’s dark sky,
The angels dance above.
………………………………
Coral Rumble
Christmas morning
♥
Last year
on Christmas morning
we got up really early
and took the dog for a walk
across the downs
It wasn’t snowing
but the hills were white with frost
and our breath froze
in the air
♥
Judy rushed around like a crazy thing
as though Christmas
meant something special to her
♥
The sheep huddled together
looking tired
as if they’d been up all night
watching the stars
♥
We stood at the highest point
and thought about what Christmas means
and looked over the white hills
and looked up at the blue sky
♥
And the hills seemed
to go on forever
and the sky had no bounds
and you could imagine
a world at peace
♥
Roger Stevens
Illustration by Chris Riddell, from THINGS YOU FIND IN A POET’S BEARD (Burning Eye)
A Christmas Poem
When my Great Aunt Bertha, who was a Quaker, read in the papers of how their boys and our boys gave it all up, put the guns down and climbed over the top to kick the patched leather ball between barbed wire and crater rims, between the two straight dark ditches they lived in, she took it upon herself to head down to Woolworth’s and buy up all the marked down boxes of Christmas cards, lolling on the January shelves.
She spent her war years licking stamps, inking addresses, printing xmas messages in one of a number of different languages, as appropriate, signing her love and visiting the pillar-box at the head of her road. Sacks of the things went off at once, whole stretches of trench filled with spade-handled robins, holly, magi, stockings and snow. The babe of peace arrived in his manger, in the stable, in March, in April, in May, ceaselessly, year on year.
If there had been no calendars, no officers, no orders, no today’s or yesterday’s newspaper in the mess, in the trench, no date on the soldier’s letter from home, then her plan may have worked, assuming the other side were equally ill-equipped and open-mindedly eager to clutch peace as it passed.
But no one was stupid enough to think it might be Christmas every day, no one was fooled by her hand, and besides, the ball needed pumping and a puncture repair kit. Great Aunt Bertha.
On Thursday 21 October 2021, Wes Magee, well-known children’s poet and author, passed away peacefully in his sleep.
Here is a selection of his poems, published with permission, chosen by just a few of those who admired his wonderful work.
Brian Moses
Wes Magee was a role model when I first started writing poetry for children. Like me, he was a teacher at that time (later a headteacher) and his classes had inspired him to write his own poems, when he couldn’t find ones relevant to the work in hand. I remember a four page booklet of poems about dinosaurs which the children in my classes loved to hear, and then in 1989 there were two books from Cambridge University Press, Morning Break and The Witch’s Brew.
These were such diverse collections from someone who understood children, their lives and what made them tick. Wes was a master craftsman too. His poems were finely tuned and there was something for everyone – spooky poems, funny poems, sad poems and poems that begged to be read aloud. Reading aloud was something Wes did brilliantly. We shared the stage on a number of occasions and I was always struck by the way he quickly developed a relationship with his audience, no matter what age. He was particularly at home with younger children, and they listened intently as if he was imparting the kind of secrets that they needed to see them through life.
Recently Wes toured Northern Ireland on several occasions. I talked with him once after he’d spent the day in a school in Belfast with 12 classes. “I visited every one,” he said. I envied his energy and his stamina. Fortunately his poems are recorded on the Poetry Archive. Do give them a listen.
I have many favourite poems but for me, this short one is near perfect.
A hot day at the school
All day long the sun glared
as fiercely as a cross Headteacher.
Out on the brown, parched field
we trained hard for next week’s Sports day.
Hedges wilted in the heat;
teachers’ cars sweltered on the tarmac.
In the distance, a grenade of thunder
exploded across the glass sky.
Wes Magee
Judith Nicholls
Wes, of course, wrote many school-based poems which children can easily relate to but I’ve chosen something a little different: VOICES, in which all three verses are linked by the voices of different adults calling the children in.
The first verse begins with four friends ‘adventuring’ in an overgrown garden where ‘ … a tumbledown shed, half lost in waves of weeds/was our pirate ship, sailing uncharted seas’ … a lovely alliterative image of thewaves of weeds. In the second verse, cousins are rowing on a lake’ssunlit-wrinkled waterand here it is thehand-cupped shoutof the boatmen calling them in from the jetty.
In the final verse the poem takes a more sinister turn with its Hansel and Gretel reference of a crabbed old woman inviting the children lost in the wood to rest in her cottage, with its finalCome in!/dear children./Come in! It is, we learn, a story being told by a teller who mimics the witch’s final invitation … but we are all aware of the power of story and the children stare intently, dry-mouthed, at the teller!
I love poems that change the mood as they proceed and this would be a wonderful poem to perform; I never heard Wes perform this one but can imagine what a great telling he would give it!
Voices
‘Come in!”
My mother’s voice boomed across the backs of houses,
calling me home as dusk fell that July evening.
But still we played, four friends adventuring
at the end of Mathew’s long, overgrown garden
where a tumbledown shed, half lost in waves of weeds,
was our pirate ship sailing uncharted seas.
Dirt-streaked, and oblivious of the deepening purple dark,
we played on as first stars blinked like harbour lights.
‘Come in!
It’s late!
Come in!’
‘Come in!’
The boatman’s hoarse voice reverberated
across the lake’s sparkling, sunlit-wrinkled water.
Yet my cousins continued to row towards the reed beds
where ducks, moorhens and coots paddled and pecked.
We laughed as heavy oars dipped and splashed,
and gazed when a flight of geese took off, wings clapping.
The rowing boat rocked in the wind and waves,
and still the boatman’s hand-cupped shout from the jetty,
‘Come in!
Time’s up!
Come in!’
‘Come in!’
The crabbed old woman smiled toothlessly
as she invited the children lost in the green wood
to rest in her cottage half hidden in the bushes and trees.
I remember how the storyteller added scary sound effects
— an owl’s wavering hoot, wind hushing in the treetops,
and his fingers snapping like dead, woodland twigs.
Dry-mouthed and wide-eyed we stared intently
as he mimicked the witch’s final invitation,
‘Come in!
dear children.
Come in!’
Wes Magee
Pie Corbett
My favourite poems by Wes are either about Thorgill, winter or the annual Christmas card poem in which I felt that Wes was writing about his life. Elegant and finely crafted, this poem slows time to capture and preserve a moment. And every time the poem is read aloud (preferably in Wes’s wonderful rich voice), the moment is recreated and happens again. The poem draws the reader in with ‘you’ and we are there – in the dales, watching the Moon, car lights, cat and bright stars. The poem draws to a magical and comforting closure; a wonder-struck fragment – a prayer.
This Silent Night
(… … on the North York Moors)
Bathed in the back door’s yellow light
you gaze upon a winter’s night
and view the shy Moon’s misty veil
as car beams flick across the dale.
A black cat pads the patio
to leave small paw-prints in the snow,
and air’s aglitter, stars are bright
this Christmas Eve,
this silent night.
Wes Magee
Celia Warren
I’ve picked What is the Sun, as it was one of my daughter’s favourites when she was little, and I must have read it at hundreds of bedtimes. What, at first encounter, could be seen as a string of metaphors, is deceptive in its apparent simplicity. Each word is carefully chosen and placed so that the lines rise and fall, like a gentle incoming tide, as each soothing image follows the last. It is irresistible to read aloud, slowly, and bathe in its rhythmic calm.
What is the Sun?
The Sun is an orange dinghy
sailing across a calm sea
it is a gold coin
dropped down a drain in Heaven
the Sun is a yellow beach ball
kicked high into the summer sky
it is a red thumb-print
on a sheet of pale blue paper
the Sun is a milk bottle’s gold top
floating in a puddle
Wes Magee
Moira Andrew
Being invited to select a single poem from Wes Magee’s vast collection of poetry for children is like choosing a favourite child! There is so much to admire in his work, so apt, What is a million?, so clever with words, Deep down in the darkness, so sensitive, Tracey’s tree, – and on occasion, so full of fun, Miss Jones, football teacher, that the task is almost impossible.
But here goes! The children in my Years 3 and 4 really enjoyed Down by the school gate. They loved its rhythm, sustained throughout the poem, its fun, and of course, it brings the joy of the countdown. It’s a ‘joining in’ poem and that makes it special for 7-8 year-olds. And indeed, for Special Needs classes who can shout the numbers and thump the floor as it moves to the final triumphant One lollipop man …
In addition, Down at the school gate provides a pattern on which to model the children’s own poems. It is cleverly crafted, yet looks easy – and that shows the poet’s skill.
Wes has left us bereft, we teachers, poets and friends will miss his friendship, his enthusiasm and above all, his way with words.
Take a proverb (a popular expression) and innovate.
‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush’
might become
‘A camel in the park is worth six in the theatre aisle’.
In Cornwall, they have an interesting idiom that is worth discussing, ‘the tongue-less man gets his land took’. I innovated on that expression:
In Cornwall they say,
The tongue-less man gets his tongue took.
In Argyllshire they say,
The thoughtless camel gets its hump stolen.
In Gloucestershire they say,
The worthless crown gets its thorns trimmed.
In Yorkshire they say,
The hopeless hero gets his bravery burned.
In Liverpool they say,
The harmless rumour gets its beard singed
In Galway Bay they say,
The timeless clock gets its hands cuffed.
Try playing the game where expressions are taken literally, e.g.
The detectives said
the books had been cooked.
(They tasted good).
My teacher said we could
have a free hand.
(I added it to my collection).
Some people bottle up
their feelings.
(I keep mine in a jar).
My Mother said,
“Hold your tongue!”
(It was too slippery).
In the school races,
I licked everyone in the class.
(It made my tongue sore).
Here is a bank of possible idioms to play with:
How to Invent new proverbs.
First, take an even number of proverbs.
Next, cut them in half.
Still waters / run deep.
Too many cooks / spoil the broth.
Finally, stick them together in the wrong order:
Still waters spoil the broth.
Too many cooks run deep.
Pie Corbett
Pie Corbett is a teacher-poet – his collection ‘Evidence of `Dragons’ is used in many classrooms. He has published and edited over 250 books, runs ‘Talk for Writing’ and was made an honorary Doctor of Letters for services to creativity, poetry and social justice by the Open University. He runs online training for teachers and every Monday works with about 6,000 children on @TeachingLive, running writing sessions of poetry, creative nonfiction and story.
This game is one of my favourite surreal poetry games. Put the children into pairs. The first pair makes a list of 5 generic places (by that, I mean not ‘Paris’ but ‘city’) or containers (suitcase, pocket, jar, etc.) and their partner makes a list of abstract nouns – without seeing each other’s lists, e.g.
Generic places: city, cellar, beach, cupboard, attic, town, village, house, shop, cathedral, park, forest, planet, pocket, backpack, jar, musical box.
The pairs then put their two lists together in the order in which the words were written. This is to ensure that the combinations are random and not influenced by logic. The combinations that work best are the fresh and startling juxtapositions when two ideas are placed together that have never been heard before. It is this unique combination that catches the imagination. If I use my first five ideas from each list, it would produce:
The city of wonder
The cellar of despair
The beach of grief
The cupboard of greed
The attic of sadness
You could then choose out one idea and create a list poem:
In the city of wonder, I saw –
A serpent with eyes of rubies,
A song thrush flying from a golden cage,
A sunset slipping over the darkening landscape,
In the city of wonder, I found –
A scarlet rug, softer than an eagle’s feathers,
A crimson pen nib, sharper than pirate’s blade,
A scintillating canary, yellow as mustard blossom.
James Walker from a Bristol primary school experimented with his year 6 class. He began by ‘banking’ with the children as many ‘colour’ words as possible plus abstract and ‘magical’ nouns. When randomly combined this gave lists of ideas such as:
Velvet shadows
Ebony whispers
Indigo happiness
Cerise laughter, etc
Of course, the sentences need verbs to provide the power and action for the lists of colours and abstract nouns. Five minutes rapid brainstorming gave the class a considerable list. Rapid brainstorming is an important part of teaching writing. The brainstorm trains the mind to generate possibilities. During the writing, the writer than has to select and judge – what makes most impact, what works?
James then used shared writing on the flipchart to work with the children developing magical and mysterious sentences. It’s important to model the writing of a text so that the teacher can develop writerly habits such as ‘first thought isn’t always the best thought’. The task is fun, accessible and inclusive and encourages children to play with words without fear.
The children moved straight into writing independently, drawing on their lists of colours and abstract nouns, extending their own sentences. The class wrote in silence and at a pace.
Sapphire suns created golden shadows whilst an indigo moon conjured up a velvet nightmare.
A cobalt truth floated gently through the captured eternity as a gossamer spell darted violently through the ashen sky.
Pie Corbett is a teacher-poet – his collection ‘Evidence of `Dragons’ is used in many classrooms. He has published and edited over 250 books, runs ‘Talk for Writing’ and was made an honorary Doctor of Letters for services to creativity, poetry and social justice by the Open University. During Lockdown, he produced a daily, interactive radio show based on developing children as readers and writers. Each show featured a guest poet or author and all 60 shows are available for free: https://radioblogging.net
Children's Poetry Summit 
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