Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day from Neal Zetter

When the Bell Goes


When the bell goes
The long day’s ending
When the bell goes
Grab coats and bags

Thrilled and overjoyed
Making lots of noise
Running to the gates with all the other girls and boys

When the bell goes
We’re so excited
When the bell goes
At half-past three

Hurrying for home
Chatting on our phones
Stopping at the ice cream van to buy a strawberry cone

When the bell goes
We’re screaming, shouting
When the bell goes
We’re crazy, nuts

Dashing down the streets
Sucking sticky sweets
Practising our rapping to the rhythms and the beats

When the bell goes
The lesson’s finished
When the bell goes
We come alive

Jumping over walls
Breaking every rule
Doing lots of stuff we’re not allowed to do at school

I don’t care about anything
When I hear ring, ring, ring, ring
When the bell goes
When the bell goes
When the bell goes


©  Neal Zetter,

Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day by John H Rice



The Art of Kite Flying


“It’s the string that makes it fly,” he said

As the kite tugged wildly at its thread.

“Without the string, it falls and dies –

Collapses from these bright blue skies,

Yet still it battles to break free

But it is just a kite, you see.”

And then he stopped and turned his head,

“So, what’s your string?” the old man said.


© John H Rice


John H Rice is a former primary school headteacher who writes educational materials for children – and poems!

Posted in Freedom Poem, National Poetry Day 2017

Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day by Jonathan Humble



Suppose I wasn’t here today

Behind a desk at school,

and say


Instead of maths and grammar stuff,

Of which we do more than enough,

I left this place and caught a train,


Flew in hot air balloon or plane

Across the sea to Timbuktu

To meet the Tuareg with whom


I’d wear deep blue alasho and

We’d ride out on Saharan sand

On camels out towards the east,


To live in tents and later feast

On goats’ milk tea and baked taghella,

With cheese and dates bought from a seller


Of gorgeous African cuisine,

Then watch the sun set on a scene

Of such delight and beauty rare,

It stands alone without compare


And beats hard sums and parsing flat

So much, in fact, I dare say that

If I were asked to swap my place


Behind a desk at school and face

An option far from tests and strife,

I’d choose the free nomadic life…


© Jonathan Humble

Freedom Poem – Riding a Lion by Coral Rumble



I dreamt of riding a lion, a fast one,

A fierce one, with a flash of wildness in his eyes.

I could feel his tented ribs with my clinging knees.


I dreamt he leapt and flew, huge wings spreading,

His deep growl rumbling like a well oiled engine.

My fingers curled into a tangle around his mane.


I dreamt he swooped a deep dive, a daring dive,

A dizzy dive, against the roaring wind,

And I didn’t even close my eyes in fear.


I dreamt he landed on an island, a golden one,

Where all the lions fly, and children ride

On their warm backs, clutching the edge of danger.


© Coral Rumble