It Takes One to Know One Page 2
And though she’s taught for many years,
The teacher’s eyes still fill with tears,
For children know the ones who care
And that is why those gifts are there.
Class Discussion
‘In the class discussion, Jane, you hardly said a word.
We all aired our opinions but from you we rarely heard.
You sat and stared in silence surrounded by the chatter,
Now tell me, Jane, and please be plain,
Is there anything the matter?’
Jane looked up and then she spoke,
Her voice was clear and low:
‘There are many people in this world
Who are rather quiet, you know!’
Parents’ Evening
So you are Matthew’s mother
Then you must be his dad?
I’m so very pleased to meet you,
I am extremely glad.
He’s such a gifted pupil,
And such a little dear,
There’s been a vast improvement
In all his work this year.
His writing is exceptional,
So beautifully neat,
His spelling quite incredible,
His poetry a treat.
His number work is flawless
And his painting so inspired.
He’s interested and lively,
And he’s never ever tired.
He’s amazingly athletic,
And excels in every sport.
Your Matty is the brightest child
That I have ever taught.
I should say he’s gifted – he comes top in every test.
In fact in every single subject
Your Matthew is the best!
I must say, Mr and Mrs Flynn,
You’re fortunate to have a child like him.
Pardon?
Oh! You’re not Matthew Flynn’s father,
Then you can’t be his mum.
You say I’ve got the names mixed up.
Oh dear! What have I done?
Well, I’m very, very sorry.
So your child’s Matthew Brown.
Well, before I tell you about your son
You had better both sit down!
Mr Lee Teaches Poetry
Our English teacher, Mr Lee,
Is very keen on poetry
And every morning he will say:
‘We’re going to write a poem today.
But please don’t waste a lot of time,
In trying to make your poetry rhyme.
In writing there is nothing worse
Than striving desperately in verse
To fit the words into the line,
Just to get a silly rhyme.
So remember in your poem today,
It doesn’t have to rhyme – you know!’
Poetry Lesson
‘I like your poem, Mandy… but
There are parts which don’t sound right.
You say that stars like diamond chips
Illuminate the night,
And that the cold and distant moon
Gives off an eerie light…
I think that there are better words to use.
‘I like your poem, Mandy… but
Be careful with the rhymes.
You say that from the lonely church
Came strange and distant chimes,
Reminding you of far-off days
And of much happier times…
I think that there are better words to use.
I like your poem, Mandy… but
The images aren’t too good.
Instead of spooky forest glade,
Insert the ghostly wood
And avoid those dreadful gory bits
Especially the blood.
I think that there are better words to use.
‘And tell me,’ said the teacher,
‘Have you anything to say?’
And Mandy said, ‘I’d like to ask,
Whose poem is it… anyway?’
Bible Class
Reverend Bright, our vicar,
Came in our class today.
He started with a little talk,
Then we closed our eyes to pray.
He talked about the Bible,
And the prophet Abraham,
How God created everything
And how the world began.
Then he asked us all some questions
About the prophets and the kings,
David and Goliath,
And lots of other things.
‘In a very famous garden
Grew an apple on a tree,
And who ate the forbidden fruit?’
And a voice said,
‘Wasn’t me!’
My Teacher
I’m glad that I’m a pupil
Of Mrs Eddleston,
For every day is wonderful,
Ooh, we do have lots of fun.
There’s wooden bricks and building blocks
And sand piled on a tray,
A Wendy House and crates of toys,
To play with all the day.
In the morning when I wave goodbye
To Mummy at the gates,
I see Mrs Eddleston,
Smiling as she waits.
Then I run across the playground
Through a sea of smiling faces
And change into my indoor shoes
(I can do up all my laces!)
I hang my outdoor coat up
On a row of little hooks,
And rush to the Reading Corner
Where there’s lots of picture books.
Then Mrs Eddleston starts reading
About the Mermaid and the Whale,
About giants, elves and monsters mean
Or our favourite fairy tale.
And if the story frightens me
I climb up on her knee
And she tells me not to worry
Because it all ends happily.
But I’m sad and very sorry
For I must leave Mrs Eddleston
For now I am a big boy
And I must be moving on.
And though I’ve shed so many tears,
Enough to fill a pool,
Next year I join the sixth form
At the comprehensive school.
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time, children, long, long ago, There lived a…
Big, ugly monster, Miss?
No, David, not a big, ugly monster – a beautiful princess
called Imelda. She had eyes as bright and as green as
sparkling emeralds. She had hair which fell down her back
like a golden waterfall. Her skin was as white…
As a ghost’s, Miss?
No, not a ghost’s, David. As white as the snow which covered the fields. Her lips were as red as…
Blood, Miss?
No, not blood, David, as red as cherries. But Princess
Imelda was lonely. How she longed for someone with
whom to play. As the seasons passed she stared out from
the high window of her castle. Then one day something
happened.
Did she fall out, Miss?
No, she didn’t fall out, David. She saw in the distance a
great cloud of smoke.
A fire-breathing dragon come to eat her up?
David, will you listen! It wasn’t a dragon. It was a
prince on a great white horse. As he rode over the little
bridge…
Did he fall off?
No!
Miss, was there a wicked troll under the bridge?
David! Would you be quiet. There are other children in the
class, you know, who might want to say something or ask
a question. Now give somebody else a chance. Yes, Amy,
have you got a question to ask me?
Yes, Miss.
What is it, dear?
/> May I go to the toilet please?
School Trip
On our school trip to Scarborough
We got to school on time,
But the coach was caught in traffic
And arrived at half past nine.
Miss Phipps, our teacher, was so cross,
Left standing in the rain
And when the coach pulled up at last
She didn’t half complain.
The driver started shouting,
He said there’d been a queue,
But Miss Phipps she said, ‘That’s no excuse!’
And started shouting too.
On our school trip to Scarborough
The sky turned cold and grey,
Freezing winds blew down the beach
And it rained and rained all day.
Then Sharon slipped on a slimy rock,
And Gordon grazed his knee,
And Colin fell off the castle wall,
And John jumped in the sea.
Then our teacher started shouting
And her voice was loud and high,
And soon we were surrounded
By a crowd of passers-by.
On our school trip to Scarborough
There was really quite a do
When Hazel’s hat blew out to sea
And Simon lost a shoe,
And David dropped his flask of soup
Which rolled right off the pier
And landed on the coastguard
Who happened to be near.
Then the coastguard started shouting
When it hit him with a thwack
And when David said, ‘I’m sorry, mate,
Could you pass my thermos back?’
On our school trip to Scarborough
We all ate tons and tons
Of sticky rock and sandwiches
And jellied eels and buns.
And when the coach left Scarborough
Sam was sick on Chris
And Chris was sick on Wayne and Paul
And they were sick on Miss.
Then everyone was shouting
All the children and Miss Phipps
Until Jason asked the driver,
‘Can we stop for fish and chips?’
On our school trip to Scarborough
It wasn’t that much fun,
Nothing really happened
And we never saw the sun.
We couldn’t do a lot of things
Because of all the rain,
But if I have the chance next year
I’d love to go again!
Interrogation in the Nursery
Infant:
What’s that?
INSPECTOR:
What?
Infant:
That on your face.
INSPECTOR:
It’s a moustache.
Infant:
What does it do?
INSPECTOR:
It doesn’t do anything.
Infant:
Oh.
INSPECTOR:
It just sits there on my lip.
Infant:
Does it go up your nose?
INSPECTOR:
No.
Infant:
Could I stroke it?
INSPECTOR:
No
Infant:
Is it alive?
INSPECTOR:
No.
Infant:
Can I have one?
INSPECTOR:
No, little girls don’t have moustaches.
Infant:
Why?
INSPECTOR:
Well, they just don’t.
Infant:
Can I have one when I grow up?
INSPECTOR:
No, ladies don’t have moustaches either
Infant:
Well, my grannie’s got one!
Christmas Lights
The lights on the Christmas tree winked,
And the snow fell thick and heavy outside.
From the walls of the school hall
Angels spread their silver wings
And the three kings held high their gifts.
The lights dimmed and silence fell.
Mums and dads, grannies and grampas,
Stared at the stage expectantly
For The Christmas Story to begin.
A spotlight flooded the stage and a small child entered.
Wide-eyed, she stared at the sea of smiling faces
before her.
‘Welcome,’ she whispered, ‘to our… to our…’
Then, she froze like a frightened rabbit,
Caught in the headlight’s glare.
‘To our Nativity!’ came the teacher’s hushed
voice, off-stage.
‘To our…’ began the child again. ‘To our…’
‘Nativity!’ repeated the teacher.
‘Harvest Festival,’ announced the child.
Too Clever by Half
I am so very good at everything,
I really am the best,
Brilliant at number work,
The top in every test,
My English book’s outstanding,
And much better than the rest.
Oh, I really am a very clever girl.
I am extremely musical,
My voice is quite sublime.
I sing sweeter than the nightingale,
No voice compares to mine.
I play the cello beautifully,
I really sound divine.
Oh, I really am a very clever girl.
I’m particularly sporty,
And excel in every game:
Netball, hockey, badminton,
To me they’re all the same,
And if the team I play with loses,
Well, I’m certainly not to blame.
Oh, I really am a very clever girl.
I am a very pretty child,
A little English rose.
With long blonde curls and large blue eyes,
And a little button nose.
My hands and face are always clean,
And so are all my clothes.
Oh, I really am a very clever girl.
I therefore find it rather strange
That no one plays with me.
Nobody ever telephones
Or asks me round for tea.
I don’t have any friends at all.
Now, why ever should that be?
Because I really am a very clever girl
Holiday to Remember
The highlight of the holiday
(Well, it certainly was for me),
Was when we went to Waterworld
At Wilmington-on-Sea.
We swam and splashed in the salt-sea pool,
And went on every ride,
But the best part of the holiday
Was when Grandma blocked the slide.
The Cosmic Whirl at Waterworld,
Is really, really high,
It twists and turns like a slippery snake,
And reaches to the sky.
Well, Grandma thought she’d try it
And she clambered to the top,
Then she starting sliding really fast,
We thought she’d never stop!
But the Cosmic Whirl was narrow
And Grandma’s pretty wide.
And soon she started slowing down,
And then – she blocked the slide.
She wriggled and she jiggled,
And she struggled to be free
But Gran was stuck in the Cosmic Whirl
At Wilmington-on-Sea.
The man who was behind her,
Like a bullet from a gun,
Set off down at such a speed
And crashed into my gran.
She flung herself around him,
The poor man was garrotted,
Then their arms and legs got tangled up
And their bodies, they were knotted.
There were screams
and yelps and howls for help
As they tumbled down and down,
And soon a crowd of swimmers
Had gathered all around.
Then Grandad, who was watching,
Turned to speak to me and Mum.
‘Just take at look at Gran,’ he laughed.
‘She’s certainly having fun.’
The lifeguard blew his whistle
And shouted from the side.
‘You two out the water now,
No messing down the slide!’
My Monstrous Bear
When I was small,
My father would pretend to be a monstrous bear.
He’d crawl about the floor on all fours
And his great ferocious eyes
Would stare and glare, searching for me.
He’d roar and roar
And growl and grunt,
And I would hide behind the chair,
And squeal and squirm
And feel the hair on my head stand up,
Excited in my fear.
He’d pretend not to see me
And lumber off and curl up on the rug
And snore and snore.
I would creep so quietly
And snuggle up, deep between his great warm paws.
My monstrous bear would hold me tightly
Keeping me from harm.
Reading Round the Class
On Friday we have reading round the class.
Kimberley Bloomer is the best.
She sails slowly along the page like a great galleon
And everyone looks up and listens.
‘Beautiful reading, Kimberley, dear,’ sighs Mrs Scott,