One of my favourite animals!
Category: National Poetry Day 2017
Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day by Carole Bromley
Golden Time
I might do a painting, I might read a book,
I might write a poem, I might learn to cook.
I might do some tracing, I might act a play,
I might make a pot with some modelling clay.
I might build some Lego, I might sing a song.
I might do some sums, I might get them wrong.
I might get the guinea pig out of his cage,
I might get dressed up and dance on the stage.
I might make a spaceship and fly up to Mars,
I might switch the lights out and study the stars.
I might make a potion, I might cast a spell
I might make a prince from a frog in a well.
I might explore Africa, might cross the Pole,
might play for England, might score a goal.
I might fly a jet plane, might walk on the moon,
I can do what I want for a whole afternoon.
I might be a Viking, I might be from Rome.
I would rule the world but it’s time to go home.
Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day by Angela Topping
Kids’ Stuff
Hanging round parks for a go on the swings
your palms smelling of metal off the roundabout
The iron grip of the slide as you launch yourself
It’s kids’ stuff but I still like it.
Dipping your fingers in sherbet and licking
Sticking your tongue into your ice cream
Strengthening your suck on a chocolate milk shake
It’s kids’ stuff but I still like it
Playing follow-my-leader when no one can see
Tidying your dollshouse and making them speak
Cuddling your teddy when you can’t get to sleep
It’s kids’ stuff but I still like it
Reading Narnia books and travelling with Hobbits
Watching E. Nesbit’s books on the box
Curling up in a chair with a book and some chocolate
It’s kids’ stuff but I still like it
Making shapes with your bread dough and watching it rise
Making gingerbread men with currants for eyes
Putting smarties on top of little iced cakes
It’s kids’ stuff but I still like it
Going to the pictures to watch Walt Disney
Getting sticky fingers from eating popcorn
Sucking an ice-lolly through the second half
It’s kids’ stuff but I still like it
People try and tell you ought to grow up
My kids don’t mind having a daft mum
I don’t see why I should stop having fun
It’s kids’ stuff but I still like it.
National Poetry Day Freedom Poem by Bernard Young
Summer
You’ve finished playing football
You’re lying on the grass
Thinking about the goal you scored
Reliving that brilliant pass
Summer is the future
School is in the past
This is a perfect moment
If only it would last
Just you and your mates relaxing
In the heat after the game
Everyone’s a winner
You all feel the same
Summer is the future
School is in the past
This is a perfect moment
If only it could last
National Poetry Day Freedom Video – Gerard Benson and River Song
Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day from Sue-Hardy-Dawson
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!
Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day by Andrea Shavick
A DIFFERENT HUNGER
Powerful cougar, mountain cat
Leaping, sprinting, jumping
Eats any animal it can catch
Loves hunting
Fragile cougar, Big Cat House
Caged from January to December
Eats for an audience at 3 o’clock
But remembers
National Poetry Day Poem by Sue Hardy-Dawson
Freedom Poem for National Poetry Day by Jonathan Humble
Freedom
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…
Poem for National Poetry Day, by Dru Marland
unherd
So many sheep, if asked, would tell
you how they’re wild and free
and independent minded. Well,
they’d say, you won’t catch me
consorting with the common herd.
I’ve even grown a fine goatee
and listen to Coltrane and Bird,
and read the works of well-known potes.
I think conformity’s absurd.
But when they round up all the goats
they’ll hide inside their woolly coats.
Teachers! Download National Poetry Day Resources!
National Poetry Day is on September 28th.
Get your free ‘Freedom’ lesson plans for NPD from the Forward Arts Foundation, available here.
Freedom Poem – Riding a Lion by Coral Rumble
RIDING A LION
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
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