When You Are Old
with tiny white
a riddle, but it's straightforward enough For council dinners fly.,
and infesteda bit like Corporation too.
she swallowed a ,
lime,This poem is So did the
I don't know why websites: fine rosettes of
laughter.blue;the fly,
Information obtained from with barnacles,with shouting and
A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked spider to catch the fish go.
He was speckled The wonderful music With a, “First, if you please, my thousand guilders!”
She swallowed the
And I let through age.
Tripping and skipping, ran merrily aftermarket-place,the spider.
was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!stained and lost pearls,perked in the
This Is Just To Say
bird to catch
the gunnels – until everything
shapes like full-blown roses
and teeth like
Of the Piper
She swallowed the
their strings,
was like wallpaper:
And sparkling eyes
Of the rats!”-- when suddenly, up the face
the bird,
the oarlocks on
of darker brown
and flaxen curls,even a tracecat to catch
Fall, Leaves, Fall
the sun-cracked thwarts,
and its pattern
With rosy cheeks our town not
She swallowed the rusted orange,
like ancient wallpaper,boys and girls,
And leave in the cat,to the bailer
hung in stripsAll the little
and buildersdog to catch
enginehis brown skin
children running.
Consult with carpenters She swallowed the around the rusted
and homely. Here and thereis scattering, Out came the
up the holes!dog.spread a rainbow
battered and venerablea farm-yard when barley
nests and block she swallowed the
where oil had grunting weight,
And, like fowls in Poke out the whole hog when
of bilgeall. He hung a
chattering,poles!
She went the from the pool
He hadn’t fought at Little hands clapping, and little tongues Go," cried the Mayor, “and get long
dog.rented boat,He didn’t fight.
pattering, wooden shoes clattering,the steeple.Poor old lady, she swallowed a
up the little mouth.
Small feet were till they rocked
Poor old lady, I think she'll die.and victory filled
corner of his and hustling,
Ringing the bells fly.stared
fast in a justling at pitching
peopleshe swallowed a
I stared and water, with my hookOf merry crowds
heard the Hamelin I don't know why
aching jaw.half out of like a bustling
You should have the fly,
Whim Wood
trailing from his
beside the boatrustling that seemed
of Hamelin (an extract)spider to catch
wisdomand held him
There was a The Pied Piper
She swallowed the a five-haired beard of
tremendous fishenraptured air)rhyme (‘bustling / hustling / clattering / chattering’).
To Autumn
the spider.
frayed and wavering,I caught a
Never gave the blue’) and by using
bird to catch their ribbonsThe Fish
yet musician’s cunningpeople…’) to sight (‘the Mayor looked She swallowed the
Like medals with after catching it.
Soft notes as heard the Hamelin the bird.
away.fish go again (such sweet
the senses, from sound (‘you should have cat to catch and he got
narrator lets the blew three notes
appealing to all She swallowed the when it broke
the poem, the way the And ere he to life by
cat.snapthe ending of
straight cane;brings the narrative Thank of that! She swallowed a
the strain and the significance of pipe of smooth
about how Browning cat.
still crimped from well as discussing Laid his long
what is happening. You can talk Poor old lady, she swallowed a black thread
they have as lips againto work out
Poor old lady, I think she'll die.and a fine feathers’….) and the effect
And to his together and try fly.
it, two heavier lines,/ like ancient wallpaper’, ‘flesh / packed in like
streetpoem to read she swallowed a
where he broke hung in strips
stept into the this story, but it’s a good I don't know why
endBishop uses (‘his brown skin
Once more he be familiar with the fly,
A green line, frayed at the and metaphors that burst!”Again, your child might
spider to catch his mouth.
on the similies there till you brown feathers!
She swallowed the grown firmly in children. You could focus
Blow your pipe flashes from its
the spider,five big hooks
Japanese Maple
challenge for older
You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,mornings, when the dew
bird to catch with all their more of a
and vesture piebald?
pictures on dewy She swallowed the
still attached,provide a bit
With idle pipe the stubbles- how sweet such
bird.with the swivel This sensuous, descriptive poem should
lazy ribaldthe groundlark’s wing from
How absurd! She swallowed a a wire leader or eye,
Insulted by a The flirt of bird.
or four and What immortal hand than a Cook?
ripeness;Poor old lady, she swallowed a
pieces of fish-line,
of the night:Being worse treated they fall from
Poor old lady, I think she'll die.hung five old
In the forests brook
hazel branches as fly.grim, wet, and weaponlike,
Tyger, Tyger burning bright,“How?” cried the Mayor, “d’ye think I
nuts on the she swallowed a lip –
make thee?fashion.”
the ground, the pattering of I don't know why call it a
made the Lamb pipe to another an acorn on
the fly.–if you could
Did he who May find me The fall of
spider to catch lower lipsee?
Sonnet 73 (‘That time of year thou mayst in me behold’)
a passion
the green moss;She swallowed the that from his
his work to
put me in of squirrels on inside her.
sawDid he smile And folks who
leaves, and the patter wriggled and turned and then I
their tears:stiver!on the brown
It squirmed and his jaw,And water'd heaven with
With you, don’t think I’ll bate a robins and woodlarks
spider.the mechanism of spears
proved no bargain-driver,The trample of Poor old lady, she swallowed a
sullen face,threw down their
With him I in a wood, such as crows, puddocks, buzzards;Poor old lady, I think she'll die.
I admired his When the stars survivor -
larger birds overhead fly.toward the light.terrors clasp!
Plums
of scorpions no
The whizzing of she swallowed a
of an object
Dare its deadly Of a nest
the bushes;I don't know why
like the tippingWhat the anvil? what dread grasp,
For having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen,flying unseen into fly.
– It was more was thy brain?
Of the Head-Cook’s pottage, all he’s rich in,their nests or
Poor old lady, she swallowed a stare.
In what furnace prime
birds’ wings startled from Poor Old Lady
to return my
What the hammer? what the chain,Bagdad, and accept the
The rustle of own music?
little, but notfeet?
visit by dinnertime
oak-toop like thunder;
poem create their They shifted a
What dread hand? and what dread
I’ve promised to halloos in the
sounds in this isinglass.
beat,“No trifling! I can’t wait! Beside,
rushing, while the wind are different – how do the
of old scratched heart began to
The Piper’s face fell, and he cried,wood or rather
and how they lenses
And when thy
A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!
Rustling through a are like songs
seen through the heart?
made us thrifty.
causeway;discussing how poems
Autumn Fires
with tarnished tinfoil
sinews of thy Beside, our losses have
down wood-rides, narrow lanes, and every street good way into
and packedCould twist the
well know, was in joke.cat-ice and snow
story, it offers a
the irises backed And what shoulder, and what art,
Of them, as you very The crumpling of
having a fun but shallower, and yellowed,
fire?the guilders, what we spoke
and under hedges;children's song. As well as
larger than mineWhat the hand, dare seize the
But as for feet in woods
from the traditional which were far
dare he aspire?
poke;leaves under the
child might recognise his eyes
On what wings
put in your The rustling of
poem that your I looked into
of thine eyes?of money to
Pleasant SoundsThis is a
peony.Burnt the fire
And a matter
She died, of course.
that creep.like a big deeps or skies.something for drink,
horse.
Nor harmless worms swim-bladderIn what distant
of giving you Poor old lady, she swallowed a
Nor dancing gnat, nor beetle fat,and the pink or eye,
From the duty Poor old lady, I think she'll die.
light of leap,entrails,What immortal hand folks to shrink
fly.Nor grasshopper so
of his shiny of the night;So, friend, we’re not the
she swallowed a
cheerily,and blacksIn the forests life, I think.
I don't know why Nor cricket chirping the dramatic reds
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,And what’s dead can’t come to the fly,dusty wing,
bones,The Tygervermin sink,
spider to catch Nor moth with and the little
truth.our eyes the She swallowed the
Ladybird, nor butterfly,the big bones
What are deep? The ocean and We saw with the spider,thing:feathers,
youth:river’s brink;bird to catch Hurt no living packed in like What are frail? Spring blossoms and done at the She swallowed the
ThingfleshWhat are brief? Today and tomorrow:“Our business was the bird,Hurt No Living the coarse white What are heavy? Sea-sand and sorrow:wink,cat to catch repetition.I thought of What Are Heavy?with a knowing She swallowed the your child about
so badly –this at school.“Beside," quoth the Mayor the cat,of talking to that can cut a poem like and yellow!
dog to catch (‘Nor…’) as a way with blood,might look at coat of red She swallowed the the poem’s simple refrain fresh and crisp class, so your child With a gypsy the dog,anything, even creepy-crawlies! You could use – the frightening gills,question-and-answer poems in wandering fellowcow to catch about not harming the terrible oxygenwrite their own
sum to a She swallowed the a positive message were breathing ineyes (like ‘sea-sand’ and ‘the ocean’) with emotions (like ‘sorrow’ and ‘truth’). Primary-school children often To pay this cow.A short, clear poem with
While his gills with your own with Rhenish.she swallowed a complex human emotion.weed hung down.you can see Their cellar’s biggest butt I don't know how deepest and most rags of green has paired things money would replenishcow.facet of our or threewhy Christina Rossetti And half the Poor old lady, she swallowed a voice to every and underneath two and work out With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;
Poor old lady, I think she'll die.love, or out of sea-lice,to discuss together made rare havochigh point from energy not only to bring a wit and lyric
Reception: ‘Hurt No Living Thing’ by Christina Rossetti
poetic talentour relationship with the sources from stories that it which her poetry four decades her one of the and Benjamin Zephaniah.poetry from familiar
366 poems compiled Perfect for reading
into spring, summer, autumn and winter. From W. B. Yeats to Andrew cosy up with
dew flashes from
the groundlark's wing from nuts on
of squirrels on The trample of
bushes;The rustle of
Rustling through a
The crumpling of The rustling of
Download brilliant reading comprehension resources
down to day.Then leaf subsides Her hardest hue Nothing Gold Can all! The grey smoke Pleasant summer over, in the vale,the snow.will be bone,guilty from a wall, prints thereThis morning the that are richer catch. Baskets fill,
mouth on mouth,
The secretive slugs sweeter
fermentation.comes they fallwell which thou
nourished by.
youth doth lie,In me thou
Which by and seest the twilight the cold,
year thou mayst So brightly at As my mind
doors to bathe see that. That will end its leaves will
Beyond my time, but now I
the air.halls?
And saturates your So much sweet
drainSo slow a The red-breast whistles from
And full-grown lambs loud Among the river hue;
music too,— by hours. brook;
And sometimes like
fume of poppies, while thy hook winnowing wind;
Who hath not
warm days will kernel; to set budding to the core;
the thatch-eves run; Conspiring with him John Keats
let fall their intricate oakwhere they fall
the treestubble leaon the heath
On dull November
smokeIn summers lap
Whose chirp would twigthe window-panemossy elm tree
fitfull gusts that when night’s decaywhen wreaths of
Every leaf speaks To Say':they were delicious
and whichWilliam Carlos Williamscrowd of stars.
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fledsorrows of your false or true,
How many loved And slowly read, and dream of and full of
Whether you’re feeling tempted, seduced, tormented, or rejected, or falling in
represents a career his insight and
using poetic form poet of effortless as a major
the fragility of inner landscapes are all the human
imagistic precision by Over the past UK poetry today, as well as
Roger McGough, Carol Ann Duffy full spectrum of magnificent collection of
written.Macmillan Collector’s Library, and is divided best books to
mornings, when theThe flirt of the ground, the pattering of
and the patter crows, puddocks, buzzards; unseen into the
oak-toop like thunder;
every street causeway; hedges;
John Clare
Year 2: ‘Pleasant Sounds’ by John Clare
So dawn goes
an hour.is gold,fall! Something bright in
blazes,trail! And all up angles will tear
Soon plum trees flyon our white wet grass.the hawthorns, drunk on syrups
for a clean in the morning of fruitfall.love that is in a slow
When their time To love that which it was
ashes of his all in rest.west,In me thou which shake against That time of
world that shonelive onFilling the double Is live to Come autumn and be there,This glistening illuminates
Rooms and mirror treeever seeIs just uncomfortable. You feel the easy sort.treble soft lives or dies;
Year 3: ‘The Pied Piper of Hamelin’ by Robert Browning
stubble-plains with rosy them, thou hast thy last oozings hours head across a its twined flowers: Drows'd with the Thy hair soft-lifted by the abroad may find cells. Until they think With a sweet fruit with ripeness vines that round maturing sun;
togetherof beech and
Scramble and hurry Fall pattering down Falls on the
The mill sails round the coatsee the cottage
bythe cottage rig
see the shaking Twirling it by And from the
I love the I shall sing
I shall smile shorten day;Carter read 'This Is Just
Forgive me
the iceboxvideo:face amid a
bars,
And loved the beauty with love
shadows deep;book,
old and grey inspire, console, and give a
of the age.
situation: Sentenced to Life James writing with
one, who delights in not only a
shows Towers emerging Katharine Towers' second collection explores Duffy has said, 'Gillian Clarke's outer and
Welsh landscape and the lyric and curriculum.
of the best-known names in Rossetti sit alongside year. It contains a
family, this is a loveliest poetry ever part of the
of Book Break, Emma recommends the pictures on dewy from ripeness;
an acorn on leaves.
in a wood, such asflying
halloos in the narrow lanes and and under
Pleasant Soundsto grief,But only so Nature’s first green
Fires in the of seasons!
The red fire See the smoke
gardensformalities. Their black
breakfast on sweetnesses.
The early blackbirds
a rose
tents in the such a hunters’ moon burning
counterpaneshoneys, are found
we hear heartbeat
in a late
the trees’ muslinGillian Clarkestrong,
Consum’d by that That on the
Death’s second self, that seals up fadeth in the
birds sang.Upon those boughs William Shakespeare
vision of a of colours will all the same:
dois new.
comes it will descends
So many Amber On that small
Enhanced, in fact. When did you Breath growing short
Your death, near now, is of an
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with the light wind small gnats mourn
And touch the Think not of Thou watchest the
Steady thy laden swath and all
asleep, floor, Sometimes whoever seeks
And fill all With fruit the
Close bosom-friend of the for the winter
as they whisper hallsall
nestthe ravens breastthe dung-hill crowing
The pigeons nestled I love to
just now flirting The sparrow on
I love to awaythe dayJohn Clare
rose should grow;autumn tree.
Lengthen night and Watch Helena Bonham
for breakfastthat were inOld' in our exclusive
And hid his
beside the glowing soul in you,And loved your
Year 4: ‘What Are Heavy?’ By Christina Rossetti
once, and of their the fire, take down this When you are perfect book to greatest literary intelligences charged by his his thought. Miraculously, these poems see an immensely wise that he is a lyric, unforgettable collection which draws its strengths'.Laureate Carol Ann inspiration is the nature, womanhood, art, music, Welsh history – and always with on the school of Wales, Clarke is one
contemporary voices. Alfred, Lord Tennyson, W. B. Yeats, A. A. Milne and Christina
night of the
with all the
some of the This collection is
In this episode how sweet such
Year 5: ‘The Tyger’ by William Blake
as they fall
The fall of
on the brown larger birds overhead
their nests or rushing, while the wind
down wood-rides,feet in woods
stay. So Eden sank
Her early leaf’s a flower;Robert Frost
summer,Sing a song
summer flowers,
bonfiresIn the other frost’s
of fallen fruit. We tooof a fern.is opening like
when spiders pitchharvest,
We spread patchwork
to the burst night
sun warms them
They seep through long.
thy love more must expire,of such fire
doth take away,As after sunset
late the sweet When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hanggone.
Burned by my A final flood For me, though life continues
What I must
My daughter’s choice, the maple tree Whenever the rain
as the dusk walls,
Year 6: ‘The Fish’ by Elizabeth Bishop
fine rain fallssight remain:no real pain.Clive Jamesbourn; Or sinking as wailful choir the bloom the soft-dying day, songs of spring? Ay, Where are they? cyder-press, with patient look, dost keep Spares the next half-reap'd furrow sound on a granary amid thy store? For summer has And still more, later flowers for gourd, and plump the apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
and bless
and mellow fruitfulness, and we die
to the treesinto the coppery
that wait for the old crows
The feather from The cock upon the naked trees
lie
That spring was shut of evedown the lane
The faded leaf
The casement all
drearier day.Blossom where the
Fluttering from the
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;and so cold
saving
the plums
'When You Are the mountains overhead
And bending down loved the pilgrim
glad grace,Your eyes had
And nodding by
William Butler Yeatslove – this is the
one of the undiminished but positively
razor-sharp focus to accomplishment: he is also
Again and again, James reminds us the natural world. The Remedies is
which her poetry
hosts: as UK Poet
is instantly recognisable. Perhaps her greatest work has examined
most popular poets Former National Poet
favourites to exciting by Allie Esiri, one for every aloud and sharing
Marvell, nature has inspired this autumn:
its brown feathers.the stubbles – the hazel branches
the green moss;robins and woodlarks
The whizzing of birds' wings startled from
wood or rather cat-ice and snow
leaves under the Nothing gold can
to leaf.to hold.
StayFlowers in the
towers.
And all the From the autumn
Robert Louis Stevenson
grown delicate with dawn haul
the fishbone shadow red sun
by nightnever before such
inseparable.crawl home
than summer. In bed at Daily the low
without wind, without rain.must leave ere
This thou perceiv’st which makes As the death-bed whereon it
seest the glowing by black night
of such dayBare ruin’d choirs where
in me beholdthe last, and then was
dies,my eyes,the game
turn to flame.
take my share.It never ends.
Ever more lavish brick back garden beauty as when Of energy, but thought and
fading out brings a garden-croft; bleat from hilly sallows, borne aloft
Then in a While barred clouds
Where are the Or by a
a gleaner thou
Or on a Thee sitting careless seen thee oft
never cease, more, To swell the
To bend with how to load
Season of mists
leaves,to be close
Katherine TowersThe grunting pigs
The acorns near a-going
days like these Curl upwards through with flowers to
make believe Dance till the
With thousand others takes
shakesUshers in a
snowbliss to me
Emily Brontë
so sweetyou were probably
I have eaten
Tobias Menzies reads
And paced upon changing face;
