Warm Up
Perhaps stimulated by pictures or childhood objects brought in by the teacher, children write a list of toys that they remember playing with when they were younger, but that they no longer do. They should try and be as specific as they can. If they can't think of many toys - an issue I encountered with one child, which will be discussed in a future blog post - they can include childhood objects such as blankets or bottles. Impress upon them that they are not writing a poem at this stage; they are merely gathering ideas.
Sharing & Modelling
Share my poem 'The Unfortunate Story Of Lenny', included at the end of this blog post. It is revealed at the end of the poem that Lenny is an old toy, abandoned in a dolls' house. Have a discussion about why Lenny is so upset (has he been abandoned? How does he feel?) Based on the ideas that emerge, model a quick poem from Lenny's point of view, expressing his feelings. Try to include some techniques such as metaphor, simile, alliteration, etc. The following sentence starters may be helpful here:
"I live...
"I remember..."
"Every day I..."
"I feel like..."
"My dream is..."
"The world around me is..."
"I regret..."
Writing
Children pick one toy from their list, and write a poem from that toy's point of view. These toys will likely provide useful conduits for discussing some fairly deep themes of abandonment, loss, fear and frustration. It is a good idea to display the aforementioned sentence starters on the board. For less confident writers it will then be a case of completing as many of these sentences as possible. Remember to leave time to share poems!
The Unfortunate Story of Lenny (published in My Grandpa's Beard)
Lenny had a terrible problem.
He couldn’t tell anyone about it.
Every day in school, when his eyes wandered
from the blackboard, his teacher would
address him
in harsh tones:
Lenny! What’s the matter?
Why aren’t you concentrating?
But Lenny never told the truth.
When he got home he would fling his
rucksack
into a corner and go up to his room and
sit
on his bed. His mum would come in and
ask him softly,
Lenny, how was school?
How was your day?
But Lenny would never answer.
He’d stay in his room all evening, only
agreeing
to eat his supper if it was quickly dispatched
through the door.
He never came down to sit with the
family.
Lenny had a terrible problem,
and nobody knew what it was.
He couldn’t even tell the posters on the
wall
and he never wrote it down in words.
He never told his friends because
he never expected them to care.
Lenny sits in the dolls’ house,
old and frayed, slumped
against the tiny desk.
If he could talk
I wonder what he’d say.
