Fun poems written by a teacher!

I recently received the following email from a teacher, containing both a very kind note of admiration for myself, and some lovely poems. I am pleased to be able to share the message, and I hope me readers enjoy the poems as much as I did. Do please follow the teacher-poet on Instagram - her handle is mentioned in the message below!

I’m a KS1/EYFS primary teacher and LOVE children’s poetry. I grew up reading Janet and Allan Ahlberg, Michael Rosen and Spike Milligan. I’ve introduced an annual poetry recital at school for the year 2s and they all performed a wonderful rendition of ‘I don’t like poetry.’ They all think it’s hilariously clever! 

I’ve just set up an instagram account called @poemsfortheyoungatheart. I’ve started uploading some of my poems. It’s on my bucket list to get a poem published one day so seemed a sensible place to start! 

They’re just silly ditties but would love to know what you think. There’s a few I’m going to try out on my class. 

Time to Line up!

It all started with a bell.

A lonely scuffle.

Then total hell! 

“Line up nicely!” The teacher cried. 

“Order! In rows. Side by side!

No pushing, no shoving, racing through. 

A line’s not hard. You know what to do.

You call this a line? It’s wiggly spaghetti! 

Oi! you there. Stop teasing Hetty!

Oh Honestly! I must implore! 

Stop that rolling on the floor! 

The bell has rung, The time is nigh! 

Stop that Sarah! You’re making Tom cry. 

Your shirt’s untucked. Your laces undone. 

You’re much too old. To be sucking your thumb! 

You all line up like babbling baboons! 

Jumping jelly beans! Loony Toons! 

Twenty ferrets In a vest,

A bear inside a hornets nest. 

I won’t give up! I don’t know how! 

YOU ALL NEED TO LINE UP RIGHT NOW!”

The playground froze. 

Then Joshua farted. 

And all went back to how they started. 

“I’m throwing the towel in. 

These kids should be free. 

I’m going in for a nice cuppa tea.” 

Nits (I actually wrote this when I was 10 but it’s a firm gross fave with my kids!)

“What’s that moving in your hair?”

My mother said to me.

“Come here. Let me have a closer look.

To see what it could be.”

It only took a little glance.

And some tugging at some bits.

I had caught the dreaded plague..

I had a head full of nits! 

All the instruments were in place

For the bug busting operation.

“Please sit still for another hour!

I need your cooperation!”

One by one the nits were pulled, 

And washed down the drain.

Goodbye my little friends.

But don’t come back again! 

When I’m Three 

I’m two years old.

But when I’m three 

Such a big boy 

I will be. 

I will be tall

Up to towering heights. 

I’ll turn all door knobs, 

Switch on all lights. 

I’ll use big scissors,

Cross the road.

Run cross the lawn, 

When it’s still being mowed. 

I’ll have big laces

On my shoes 

Pour my own milk

And watch the news. 

I’ll reach the biscuits,

Climb the tree. 

When I’m three,

There will be no stopping me!