Year four Poetry Unit:
This unit will focus on understanding and interpreting poems. Whilst doing this students will also explore the different forms poems take and are expected to write their own poetry.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Introduction to poetry

What do the students like/dislike?

What is poetry/a poem? Class
brainstorm then definition sheet
(attached).

Poems with themes

Childhood poems
Literary (poetry) devices:

HYPERBOLE

SIMILE

METAPHOR

PERSONIFICATION

ALLITERATION

ONOMATOPOEIA
‘My Country’ – Dorothea McKellar
Visual/personal interpretation
1. Discuss imagery as a class – what is it? How
does it work?
2. Listen to poem and discuss as a class
3. Note personal interpretations (in scrapbook)
4. Visual interpretations – students to ‘draw’ the
image they conjure when listening to the poem
(oil pastels?)
Discuss as class and complete worksheet.
AUSTRALIAN POETRY
Banjo Paterson
Henry Lawson

Brief history of Banjo Paterson – focussing on Australia at that time, the need for a

Brief history of Henry Lawson (biography attached).
national identity (biography attached).

Poems:
o
‘From the Bush’

Poems:
o
‘Waltzing Matilda’ – original lyrics V popular lyrics
o
‘The Ballad of the Drover’ – listen to & response
o
‘The Man from Snowy River’ – listen to & response
o
‘The Shearers’ – discuss the importance of mateship
o
‘Clancy of the Overflow’ – listen to & response
POETRY ROTATIONS – 25 minute rotations
Small group work focusing on selected poets (involves reading of poem and interpretations/answering of questions – activities attached).
* William Blake
* Rudyard Kipling
* Robert Frost
* Emily Dickinson
* Lewis Carroll
* Edgar Allen Poe
POETRY COMPOSITION
Students to compose and develop their own poems –

use different poets as inspiration and experiment with different styles of
poetry

encourage students to focus on different themes for their poems

slideshow stimulus
Poetry Poker
See attached instructions/resources.
LYRICS AS POETRY
What are songs? How are songs poems?
Analyse poetic devices (you may like to touch
on more than those covered) used in the
following sng (three different styles/types of
music):
1. ‘The River’ – Garth Brooks
2. ‘Music of the Night’ – Andrew Lloyd Webber
3. A popular song the students might enjoy
See attached sheet.


LYRICS AS POETRY – computer room
Following on from the previous lesson students are to complete an analysis on at least
Students to create their own song (poem) for their anthology. They may have background music to
three songs of their choosing.
go with it - must
Task instruction sheet attached.
Comments/Homework
Homework:
Find a poem, identify the discussed
literary devices and discuss what the
poem means to you (to be completed
in scrapbook).
‘My Country’ response (questions)
DUE:
Homework:
Find two Australian poems – copy
them both into your scrapbook and
write a reflection for each.
Write your own poem about Australia.
DUE:
Homework:
Favourite poem this far – why? What
poetry devices/techniques are evident
within the chosen poem?
DUE:
Homework:
Continue to develop scrapbook
(personal poem anthology).
Homework:
Continue to develop scrapbook
(personal poem anthology).
DUE:
Year Eight Poetry Unit
Assessment Task
Throughout this unit you are to keep a scrapbook that will be made up of poems we study in class, your
annotations and comments on poems, your reflections, any handouts from class and your own poems. To
receive a satisfactory pass within this unit you must keep your scrapbook up-to-date (which means you must
follow up any handouts if you are absent) and keep your scrapbook in a satisfactory manner, ensure all
homework and given tasks are completed and receive a pass for the assessment task (which includes all these
hurdle requirements).
*Please note – anything you include in your scrapbook will only been seen by your English teacher*
Your scrapbook must contain:
 All handouts
 All homework tasks
 All tasks given within class
 Copies of the poems studied with your reflections/responses/annotations
 5 of your own poems; 2 of which need to be selected for final submission (along with
reflection)
Final task:
Select two of your five poems and present them within your scrapbook in published form. These two poems
must have titles and be of substance. With each of you poems you must also include your reflection (100-150
words) and answer the given questions.
Reflection:
Below are some questions that may help prompt you when writing your reflection; however please write your
reflection in paragraph form, not question and answer form.
 Why did you write this poem?
 Did a particular poet influence you in writing this poem? If so, who?
 Did something else influence you? If so, what?
 Why did you select this poem to be published?
 Does this poem hold a particular ‘special’ meaning with you?
 What pleases you most about your poem? Why?
 What detail in the piece is exactly right? Why?
 What part of the poem are your still dissatisfied with? Why?
 Where could you include more specific details?
Questions:
You must answer the following questions alongside each of your published poems (in question and full answer
form).
 Which literary devices are evident within your poem (identify and provide examples of at least two)?
 Does your poem follow a particular style/form? If so, which one? If not, why did you write your poem
in the way in which you have?
 What is the theme of your poem?
‘Writing’ Dimension
4.75
Name: …………………………………………
Teacher ………………………….
Date of Submission: ………………
Task Description:
Produce a Poetry scrapbook that includes two (original) published poems with reflections.
Hurdle Requirements
Requirement met
(1 mark)
Requirement not
met (-1 mark)
Submitted by due date
Scrapbook is in a presentable manner with headings, sub-headings and
images to complement text
All handouts included, all assigned tasks (including homework tasks)
completed
and
all
poems
studied
included
(with
reflections/responses/annotations).
At least five poems composed by student included
Two published poems with reflections and questions
Published poem (with reflections and questions):
Writing Progression Point Descriptors
Control of written text in poetic writing
Composition of an imaginative text presenting challenging idea
Appropriate use of figurative language to achieve particular
effects
Strategic use of headings, subheadings, graphics, photographs
and art work to support the meaning of the text
Correct and effective use of the mechanics of poetry writing
Appropriate reflection/responses to questions
Total:
/35
VH
5
H
4
M
3
L
2
VL
1
NS
0
%
Teacher Comment:
Very High
High
Medium
Low
Very Low
Not Shown
Demonstrated
a
very high level of
understanding
of
knowledge
and
skills in all areas.
100-85%
Demonstrated
a
high
level
of
understanding
of
knowledge
and
skills in all areas.
84-75%
At the
Demonstrated
a
satisfactory level of
understanding
of
knowledge
and
skills in all areas.
74-65%
Standard
Demonstrated
an
adequate level of
understanding
of
knowledge
and
skills in all areas.
64-55%
Demonstrated
a
basic
level
of
understanding
of
knowledge
and
skills in all areas.
54-40%
Not
Satisfactory.
Did not meet the
criteria for the
award of a result.
39-0%
Below the
required Standard
Assessment
Review
What is Poetry?
A poem may appear to mean very different things to different
readers, and all of these meaning may be different from what the
author thought he meant. For instance, the author may have been
writing some peculiar personal experience, Which he saw quite
unrelated to anything outside; yet for the reader the poem may
become the expression of a general situation, as well as of some
private experience of his own. The reader's interpretation may
differ from the author's and be equally valid-- it may even be
better. There may be much more in a poem than the author was
aware of. The different interpretations may all be partial
formulations of one thing; the ambiguities may be due to the fact
that the poem means more, not less, than ordinary speech can
communicate.
T.S. Eliot
What is a Poet?
A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings
through words. This may sound easy. It isn't. A lot of people
think or believe or know they feel -- but that's thinking or
believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling -- not
knowing or believing or thinking. Almost anybody can learn to
think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be
taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe
or you know, you're a lot of other people; but the moment you
feel, you're NOBODY-BUT-YOURSELF.
E.E. Cummings
Poetry Devices
(techniques):
ORIGINAL POETRY MUST INCLUDE:
HYPERBOLE – a large exaggeration
EX: - Your eyes are as bright as the stars!
SIMILE – A comparison between two objects using “like” or “as”
EX: - Your eyes are like stars
METAPHOR – A comparison between two objects – NOT using “like” or “as”
EX: - Your eyes are stars!
PERSONIFICATION – giving an inhuman thing human qualities
EX: - The stars are envious of your eyes!
ALLITERATION – repetition of a sound at the beginning of two or more neighbouring
words
EX: - See Sally Stand by the Sea Shore
ONOMATOPOEIA – words that sound like their meaning
EX: - WOOOSH! The stars penetrate the earth’s atmosphere.
TASK: Identify each of the figurative devices below:
1. Alliteration
A fluttering forest of feathers
2. Simile
It smells like rotten eggs
3. Personification Spot, the dog, planned a devious plan for the cat
4. Metaphor
”Hey! Cabbage for brains! I’m talking to you!”
5. Onomatopoeia ”You wanna take a trip? Pow! Zoom! To the moon!”
6. Alliteration
Bugs Bunny
7. Metaphor
Alice ran as fast as she could
8. Simile
Alice ran as fast as a cheetah
9. Hyperbole
He has a swelled head
10. Metaphor
She has the eyes of a cat
TASK: Write one example of your own for each literary device.
Hyperbole – Your head is as big as a melon
Simile – His eyes twinkle like the stars
Metaphor – He’s a busy bee
Alliteration – The tea takes time to taste well
Personification – The tree whispers her name
Onomatopoeia – Boom! The bomb exploded
City scene - See-saw sky-scraper pocked with holes like a nutmeg
grater.
Hedgehog - He ambles along like a walking pin cushion.
- Stops and curls up like a chestnut burr.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
The bull is white as the silver fish in the river, the shimmering crane
bird on the river bank, fresh milk
His roar is like thunder to the Turkish cannon on the steep shore
Half of him is dark like the storm cloud
Half of him is light like the sunshine, his back shines like the
morning star
The back of the hornbill
Because you can recognize a flag from a distance
Because he’s made up of a lot of different colours
“White like the shimmering crane bird on the river bank”, because I
think you can hardly describe a colour more beautiful and detailed
than that.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Doornail
Hills
Chimney
Fox
Bird
Sheet
Eel
Log
9. Lion
10. Dog
11. Tortoise
12. Pig
13. Wind
14. Tack
15. Silk
16. Soot
1. A) What’s that weaving about, like a silver elephants snout
B) A broken umbrella standing like a spider in the sleet on the drifting canal
C) Legs crouched like a lunar module, He descends slowly towards a gentle
touchdown
2. Vacuum cleaner, because I sympathise with it.
3. I feel like a boss
Mighty
Bossing everybody around
I never feel like a slave
I never feel humiliated
Simile match-up
-
The dragon’s teeth were like iron spikes
As hard as a diamond
The sun was like a furnace
As powerful as an elephant
His eyes looked like two pale blue marbles
As tiny as an ant
As limp as a wet rag
The car went like a rocket
His tiny round car was shaped like a bubble
As high as the sky
The old train was as slow as a tortoise
As deep as the ocean
A graceful skater is like a swooping swallow
The lion’s roar was like a rumble of thunder
Simile poem
Summer
Swimming like a fish
No sleeping like a sluggard
Having fun like we are going to die
The best time of the year
Summer
The poet describes the pen as a living thing, but it is ‘locked’ up. The
person in the poem lets the pen free and it runs away after a while. First,
it is frightened. However, the pen is of course a non-living thing. In this
poem, the poet makes the comparison between a pen and a frightened
human.
1. Someone who’s close to death
2. Both having the same problems
3. Car crash
4. Life went on
5. Ate like a beast
6. The bus was moving very slowly
7. Searched for information
8. Solve a problem
9. Angry with her boyfriend
10. A little bit of hope
11. Yelled his orders
12. Weren’t feeling to do sth
13. A lot of replies
14. Excellent security
15. Had a depression
He gave the buzzsaw the following human qualities: it has teeth, it can write, it has a
growl and it pays no attention to grammar.
Personification questions:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
The carrot screams when grated.
A peach bleeds when torn apart.
The orange is insensitive to thumbs gouging out its flesh.
Tomatoes spill their brains painlessly.
The potatoes are skinned alive and boiled.
It hurts when peas are ripped from their overcoats.
The hide flayed off sprouts.
- The way they remove the head and bottom.
- Is it not completely correct.
- It is a clear way of telling.
No, because it seems very funny in my eyes. Especially when you read the last
two lines, it is becoming less and less serious.
Yes, because it is told in a hilarious way. It is not boring to read, but nice to read
and you see all the different personifications used.
Identifying personification:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
The old houses have been given personifications as muttering and pulling.
The pine trees have been given personifications as bending and listening.
The winds have been given the personification cracking.
The sun has been given the personification smiling.
The fire has been given the personification walking.
The sea has been given the personification becoming angry.
The brook has been given the personifications babbling and chattering.
The rusty hinge has been given the personification groaning.
The death has been given the personification laying on.
The moon has been given the personification veiling.
London Snow
When men were all asleep the snow came flying,
In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying,
Hushing the latest traffic on the drowsy town.
Spring
Nothing is so beautiful as spring
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightings to hear him sing.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
Handsome heroes
Smart students
Black biscuits
Magnificent music
Juicy jellyfish
Strong swimmers
Thirsty toads
Memorable magicians
Terrifying teachers
Beautiful babies
Dangerous dentists
Clumsy cricketers
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
Massive mountains
Delightful dancers
Humorous hairdressers
Peaceful politicians
Fabulous footballers
Tricky tigers
Kicking kangaroos
Romantic rabbits
Violent vultures
White wombats
Purple peacocks
Jumping jockeys
‘My Country’
Dorothea Mackellar
The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes.
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins,
Strong love of grey-blue distance
Brown streams and soft dim skies
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!
A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.
Her pitiless blue sky,
When sick at heart, around us,
We see the cattle dieBut then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady, soaking rain.
Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the Rainbow Gold,
For flood and fire and famine,
She pays us back threefoldOver the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.
An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish landAll you who have not loved her,
You will not understandThough earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

Look up any words within the poem of which you are unsure of the meanings.

Answer the following questions:
1. What do you think this poem is about?
2. How does this poem make you feel?
3. Which is your favourite line in the poem? Why?
4. Do you feel it portrays Australia in a positive manner? How?
5. What do you think the poet means when referring to Australia as a ‘sunburnt country’?
1. A country in a fairytale, because
everything is described so detailed
Core of my heart, my country!
BanJO PATERSON
Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson wrote some of Australia’s best loved poems. Mainly
about bush people, they are full of action, rhythm and humour. Paterson is also the
author of ‘Waltzing Matilda’, the nation’s best known song.
Paterson wrote most of his poems on the 1890s. This was a time of droughts,
economic depression, strikes and the rise of the unions, especially the shearers’ union. It was also a time of
increasing nationalism, and of the movement towards federation of the separate Australian colonies. Railways
and the telegraph were brining the colonies closed together. By the 1890s about three-quarters of the
Australian population were Australian-born. There were looking for images and heroes that were uniquely
Australian and made clear the differences between their culture and the British culture of their parents and
grandparents. They found the answer in the bush and its people.
Paterson’s work clearly reflects the times in which he lived. Like fellow poet Henry Lawson, he wrote of a way of
life that had captured the public imagination because it should Australians as they wanted to see themselves.
Paterson’s poems, such as ‘The Man from Snowy River’ and ‘Clancy of the Overflow’ were hugely popular in his
time, and remain so today. In 1895 his first book, ‘The Man from Snowy River and Other Verses’, sold out within
a week. This had never happened in Australia before, Paterson became a celebrity.
Although he came from a comfortable background and for a time worker as a city solicitor, Paterson wrote of
drovers and farmers, of swagmen and shearers, and of mountain horsemen and country race meetings. He never
forgot that his own father had been forced to sell his farm. He always wrote from the point of view of the
battler – even the swagman in ‘Waltzing Matilda’ was a battler.
Names and Places:
People and Places:
The Overflow – a normally dry area that is covered with
Some
of
the
people
and
places that reappear throughout
water in times of flood, the name is usually given to a
Paterson’s
work:
region near the town of Nyngan, in north-western NSW,
Clancy – a drover who represents Paterson’s ideal of the
which is filled by the overflowing waters of the nearby
Australian bushman
Bogan River.
Conroy – a station owner on the Castlereagh – a river in
Lachlan – a river in central NSW
northern central NSW
tar – during shearing, tar was used to treat wounds to
Kiley’s Run – a grazing property thought to be based on
sheep
Illalong, where Paterson spent his happiest childhood years
Cooper – a river in western QLD
Darling – a river that runs through western NSW, from the
QLD border to its junction with the Murray River on the
VIC border
Definitions and Meanings:
saltbush – a grey-coloured plant found in low-rainfall
donah – a sweetheart or girlfriend
areas of inland Australia
public – a public bar in a hotel
Walgett – a town in north-western NSW – the river there is
push – a gang of city hooligans
now called the Barwon: it becomes the Darling after
swell – a fashionably dressed person
joining the Culgoa, about 200 kms downstream
Hexham – a town on the Hunter River in NSW< just
inland from Newcastle, know for its especially large
mosquitoes
stiffen – to trick or swindle; in horse racing, to stop a horse
doing its best
the office – a signal or hint
Information sourced from: The Australian Character: Banjo Paterson
toff – a rich, upper-class person
by Margaret McPhee
‘Waltzing Matilda’
Banjo Paterson
ORIGINAL:
Oh! There once was a swagman camped in the billabongs,
Under the shade of a Collibah tree,
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
‘Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?’
POPULAR:
Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil,
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
(Chorus)
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, my darling?
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag,
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
(Chorus)
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boil
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Down came the jumbuck to drink at the waterhole,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him in glee,
And he sang as he put him away in his tucker-bag,
‘You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.’
Chorus
Up came the squatter a-riding his thoroughbred;
Up came policemen – one, two, three.
‘Whose is the jumbuck you’ve got in the tucker-bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!’
Chorus
Up sprang the swagman and jumped in the waterhole,
Drowning himself by the Coolibah tree;
And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the billabongs
‘Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?’
Chorus
Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Chorus
Up rode the squatter mounted on his thorough-bred
Down came the troopers One Two Three
Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Chorus
Up jumped the swagman sprang in to the billabong
You'll never catch me alive said he,
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong
You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.
Chorus
‘The Man From Snowy River’
Banjo Paterson
There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses - he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.
There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,
The old man with his hair as white as snow;
But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly upHe would go wherever horse and man could go.
And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,
No better horseman ever held the reins;
For never horse could throw him while the saddle girths would stand,
He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.
And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast,
He was something like a racehorse undersized,
With a touch of Timor pony - three parts thoroughbred at least And such as are by mountain horsemen prized.
He was hard and tough and wiry - just the sort that won't say die There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.
But so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,
And the old man said, "That horse will never do
For a long and tiring gallop-lad, you'd better stop away,
Those hills are far too rough for such as you."
So he waited sad and wistful - only Clancy stood his friend "I think we ought to let him come," he said;
"I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,
For both his horse and he are mountain bred."
"He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,
Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough,
Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride,
The man that holds his own is good enough.
And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their home,
Where the river runs those giant hills between;
I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam,
But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen."
So he went - they found the horses by the big mimosa clump They raced away towards the mountain's brow,
And the old man gave his orders, "Boys, go at them from the jump,
No use to try for fancy riding now.
And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right.
Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,
For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,
If once they gain the shelter of those hills."
So Clancy rode to wheel them - he was racing on the wing
Where the best and boldest riders take their place,
And he raced his stockhorse past them, and he made the ranges ring
With stockwhip, as he met them face to face.
Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash,
But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,
And they charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash,
And off into the mountain scrub they flew.
Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black
Resounded to the thunder of their tread,
And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely answered back
From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead.
And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their sway,
Were mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;
And the old man muttered fiercely, "We may bid the mob good day,
No man can hold them down the other side."
When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy took a pull,
It well might make the boldest hold their breath,
The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full
Of wombat holes, and any slip was death.
But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,
And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,
While the others stood and watched in very fear.
He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,
He cleared the fallen timbers in his stride,
And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride.
Through the stringybarks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound,
At the bottom of that terrible descent.
He was right among the horses as they climbed the further hill
And the watchers on the mountain standing mute,
Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely, he was right among them still,
As he raced across the clearing in pursuit.
Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met
In the ranges, but a final glimpse reveals
On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet,
With the man from Snowy River at their heels.
And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam.
He followed like a bloodhound in their track,
Till they halted cowed and beaten, then he turned their heads for home,
And alone and unassisted brought them back.
But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot,
He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;
But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot,
For never yet was mountain horse a cur.
And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high,
Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,
And where around The Overflow the reed beds sweep and sway
To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,
The man from Snowy River is a household word today,
And the stockmen tell the story of his ride.
‘Clancy of the overflow’
Banjo Paterson
I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just "on spec", addressed as follows, "Clancy, of The Overflow".
And an answer came directed in writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
'Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
"Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are."
In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving "down the Cooper" where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover's life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.
And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars.
I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city,
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all.
And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the 'buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.
And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.
And I somehow rather fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cash-book and the journal -But I doubt he'd suit the office, Clancy, of "The Overflow".
Henry lawson
Henry Lawson wrote about the ordinary Australians he grew up
with in ‘the bush’ and later lived among in the city. His work
shows great sympathy for those who struggle to survive.
Although most of his adult life was spent in the city, Lawson is
best known for this poems and short stories about the bush.
His vivid and realistic descriptions of rural life, with is hardships and occasional humour,
are based on his boyhood in the Mudgee region of central New South Wales, and on nine
months spend in the drought-stricken ‘Outback’, around Bourke, when he was twentyfive years old.
Young Henry Lawson experienced the end of the gold rushes, lived through the last of
the Cobb & Co. coaching days, and saw the opening of the railway through rural
Australia. Scattered through his works are word pictures of Mudgee’s blue hills, reddy
rivers, dusty tracks and dismal, worn-out goldfields. The drovers, bullock drivers and
innkeepers he knew, and the stories they told, come alive again in his writing. Some
experts see his poem ‘The Teams’ as the finest description of a bullock team in
Australian literature. There are also memories of the farmers who struggled to make a
living, and of the women who battled on alone when their men had to find work away
from home.
In 1892-93 Lawson spent time in the Bourke region of far-western New South Wales.
There he gained firsthand experience of the hardships faced by ‘travellers’ (swagmen)
looking for work and handouts, and of the difficulties of trying to keep a farm.
Observant Lawson:
A G Stephens, an editor of the Bulletin
magazine, said of Lawson: ‘he used his
eyes, listened as he could, and remembered
all that he saw and heard.’
Information sourced from:
The Australian Character: Henry Lawson
by Margaret McPhee
Bush Language:
green-hide goad, green-hide plait – a whip made from
untanned cattle skin
johnny cakes – small flat cakes made from bread and
water and cooked in the ashes of the campfire
on the wallaby – travelling as a swagman
selector – a farmer
shanty – a place where alcoholic drink was sold, usually
without a licence
swag – a bundle containing bedding and personal
belongings carried by a swagman on his back
swagman – a man with his belongings in a swag and
traveling on foot, looking for occasional jobs or handouts
of food
up country – inland, away from the coast
‘FROM THE BUSH’
Henry Lawson
The Channel fog has lifted –
And see where we have come!
Round all the world we've drifted,
A hundred years from "home".
The fields our parents longed for –
Ah! we shall ne'er know how –
The wealth that they were wronged for
We'll see as strangers now!
The Dover cliffs have passed on –
In the morning light aglow –
That our fathers looked their last on
A weary time ago.
Now grin, and grin your bravest!
We need be strong to fight;
For you go home to picture
And I go home to write.
Hold up your head in England,
Tread firm on London streets;
We come from where the strong heart
Of all Australia beats!
Hold up your head in England
However poor you roam!
For no men are your betters
Who never sailed from home!
From a hundred years of hardships –
'Tis ours to tell the cost –
From a thousand miles of silence
Where London would be lost;
From where the glorious sunset
On sweeps of mulga glows –
Ah! we know more than England,
And more than Europe knows!
Hold up your head in London,
However poor you come,
For no man is your better
Who never sailed from home!
Our "home" and foreign fathers,
Where none but men dared go,
Have done more for the White Man
Than England e'er shall know!
‘The Ballad of
the Drover’
Henry Lawson
Across the stony ridges,
Across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover,
Comes riding home again.
And well his stock-horse bears him,
And light of heart is he,
And stoutly his old pack-horse
Is trotting by his knee.
The thunder growls a warning,
The ghastly lightnings gleam,
As the drover turns his horses
To swim the fatal stream.
But, oh! the flood runs stronger
Than e'er it ran before;
The saddle-horse is failing,
And only half-way o'er!
Up Queensland way with cattle
He travelled regions vast;
And many months have vanished
Since home-folk saw him last.
He hums a song of someone
He hopes to marry soon;
And hobble-chains and camp-ware
Keep jingling to the tune.
When flashes next the lightning,
The flood's grey breast is blank,
And a cattle dog and pack-horse
Are struggling up the bank.
But in the lonely homestead
The girl will wait in vain -He'll never pass the stations
In charge of stock again.
Beyond the hazy dado
Against the lower skies
And yon blue line of ranges
The homestead station lies.
And thitherward the drover
Jogs through the lazy noon,
While hobble-chains and camp-ware
Are jingling to a tune.
The faithful dog a moment
Sits panting on the bank,
And then swims through the current
To where his master sank.
And round and round in circles
He fights with failing strength,
Till, borne down by the waters,
The old dog sinks at length.
An hour has filled the heavens
With storm-clouds inky black;
At times the lightning trickles
Around the drover's track;
But Harry pushes onward,
His horses' strength he tries,
In hope to reach the river
Before the flood shall rise.
Across the flooded lowlands
And slopes of sodden loam
The pack-horse struggles onward,
To take dumb tidings home.
And mud-stained, wet, and weary,
Through ranges dark goes he;
While hobble-chains and tinware
Are sounding eerily.
The thunder from above him
Goes rolling o'er the plain;
And down on thirsty pastures
In torrents falls the rain.
And every creek and gully
Sends forth its little flood,
Till the river runs a banker,
All stained with yellow mud.
The floods are in the ocean,
The stream is clear again,
And now a verdant carpet
Is stretched across the plain.
But someone's eyes are saddened,
And someone's heart still bleeds
In sorrow for the drover
Who sleeps among the reeds.
Now Harry speaks to Rover,
The best dog on the plains,
And to his hardy horses,
And strokes their shaggy manes;
`We've breasted bigger rivers
When floods were at their height
Nor shall this gutter stop us
From getting home to-night!'
‘The Shearers’
Henry Lawson
No church-bell rings them from the Track,
No pulpit lights their blindness-'Tis hardship, drought, and homelessness
That teach those Bushmen kindness:
The mateship born, in barren lands,
Of toil and thirst and danger,
The camp-fare for the wanderer set,
The first place to the stranger.
They do the best they can to-day-Take no thought of the morrow;
Their way is not the old-world way-They live to lend and borrow.
When shearing's done and cheques gone wrong,
They call it "time to slither"-They saddle up and say "So-long!"
And ride the Lord knows whither.
And though he may be brown or black,
Or wrong man there, or right man,
The mate that's steadfast to his mates
They call that man a "white man!"
They tramp in mateship side by side-The Protestant and Roman-They call no biped lord or sir,
And touch their hat to no man!
They carry in their swags perhaps,
A portrait and a letter-And, maybe, deep down in their hearts,
The hope of "something better."
Where lonely miles are long to ride,
And long, hot days recurrent,
There's lots of time to think of men
They might have been--but weren't.
They turn their faces to the west
And leave the world behind them
(Their drought-dry graves are seldom set
Where even mates can find them).
They know too little of the world
To rise to wealth or greatness;
But in these lines I gladly pay
My tribute to their greatness.
Poetry Rotations:
25 minute rotations over four lessons; groups of 4-5 students. No teacher directed group, so
encouraged to roam.
Focus poets:
 William Blake
 Rudyard Kipling
 Emily Dickinson
 Robert Frost
 Edgar Allen Poe
 Lewis Carroll
Groups looking at William Blake and Edgar Allen Poe require internet access (students CAN share
computers but aim for 2 computers per group).
William Blake
Rudyard Kipling
Rudyard Kipling was born in India. He and his sister Alice were sent back to England when he was
six. The children stayed with foster parents and were dreadfully unhappy. Kipling was punished for
reading books and began to read secretly by the light of a candle-end. Kipline was then sent to
boarding school where he was encouraged to write. Later he returned to India where he worked as a
journalist in Lahore. In his spare time he wrote many poems and stories. His first book of verse was
published in 1886.
Returning to England in 1889 Kipling found that his stories had made him a popular figure. In 1892
he married and moved to America for four years where his two children, Josephine and Elsie were
born. The family returned to England in 1896 and lived in Rottingdean in Sussex, where their son
John was born. Sadly, Josephine died of pneumonia in 1899 and John was killed whilst fighting in the
First World War (1914-18).
In 1902 he bought a house called Bateman’s in Sussex where he lived for the rest of his life. It was at
this house that his best know poem, ‘If…’ was written. Kipling declined the offer of Poet
Laureateship but was the first English writer to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1907.
Kipling dies in 1936 and was buried in Poets’ Corner in Westminster Abbey.
What inspired Kipling?
Kipling wrote a lot about India
although he only spent six and a half
years there. He wrote rhymed verse,
some of it in the slang used by British
soldiers in India, and he invented
fictional characters such as Gunga
Din and Danny Deever.
What is it that makes Kipling’s
poems so special?
Kipling’s poems reach out to lots of
people. They are not difficult to
understand and can be enjoyed by
anyone, not just poetry specialists.
His poetry is often labelled patriotic –
displaying a love of his country and
its empire.
‘If…’ by Rudyard Kipling
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
‘ Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
What do you think this poem is about? Why do you think that (provide a
quote/reference)? What poetic devices can you identify in the poem? Do you like
this poem? Why/why not?
Robert Frost
Read the following poem by Robert Frost and then complete the ‘Inference and
Evidence Chart’ in your scrapbook. If you finish early write your reflection on the
poem.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’
Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
The Narrative Poetry of Robert Frost
Directions:
We can be sure that Frost thought very carefully about which details to leave in or out
of the stories told in his poems. Sometimes these details are given directly. Other
details are ideas we need to figure out based on evidence--hints and clues--in the
poem. An idea about a poem that is based upon evidence, but is not stated
directly, is called an inference.
In the chart below, decide whether there is evidence in the poem for the statements
about Frost's poem, "Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening." In the left hand
column of the chart, you will see a series of statements about
the poem. You need to decide whether these statements are given directly in the
poem, or whether they are inferences based on evidence in the poem. Some
statements may be inferences that are either not supported by evidence in the poem,
or are contradicted by evidence in the poem. You can either write your evidence in
your own words, or copy directly from the poem itself. If you are copying the exact
words of the poem, be sure to put quotation marks ("") around those words.
If a statement not supported or is contradicted by the poem, simply check the box in
the right hand column of the chart.
INFERENCE AND EVIDENCE CHART:
Use this chart to evaluate statements about "Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening," by Robert Frost
Directly Supported by
Poem (copy evidence from
poem in space provided)
It is the middle of
winter
The speaker feels
guilty and uncertain
about stopping
The speaker has lost his
way
At the end of the
poem, the speaker
and his horse leave
the woods and head
home
The speaker thinks
uneasily about his
own death
The owner of the woods
and the speaker don't
get along
The speaker admires
the snowy woods and is
attracted to its stark
beauty and solitude
Inference based on
Evidence (copy evidence
from poem in space
provided)
Not supported by evidence
(check box
only)
Edgar Allen Poe
‘The Bells’
HEAR the sledges with the bells Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
Answer questions in your scrapbook in full sentence form:
1. How do you think this poem should be told? What expression is required for it to
be effective?
2. Would a male or female voice help you to understand the poem better?
3. How about background music? Would that make a difference to your
understanding?
Log onto the following website and play around with the different effects in telling the
poem. What works best?
http://knowingpoe.thinkport.org/writer/thebells.asp
4. Why do you think the way in which the poem is told makes a difference to the
listeners understanding?
Emily Dickinson
To fully understand the work of Emily Dickinson it is vital to first understand her.
Why do you think this might be so important? (Please answer in a full sentence in your
scrapbook)
Read the brief biography of Dickinson (overleaf) and brainstorm her characteristics
your scrapbook).
(in
Then read Dickinson’s poem ‘I’m Nobody! Who are you?’ (first read silently to
yourself and then you may like to read it as a group). Which of Dickinson’s
characteristics relate to this poem? (Please answer in a full sentence in your scrapbook)
Next read ‘Pain – has an element of blank’. Instead of discussing the
characteristics that apply to this poem, think about them (by yourself). Write a
sentence or two to describe what characteristics of Dickinson you observe in the
words of the poem and what the poem means to you.
Finally, as a group, read and discuss Dickinson’s poem ‘My life closed twice before its close’.
If there is still time remaining you are to write a brief biography about you own life (only about 3-4 paragraphs) and then
write a 2-3 stanza poem that is reflective of your own life.
‘Pain – has an element of blank’
Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
‘I’m Nobody! Who are you?’
I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you -- Nobody -- Too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know!
How dreary -- to be -- Somebody!
How public -- like a Frog -To tell one's name -- the livelong June -To an admiring Bog!
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.
‘My life closed twice before
its close’
MY life closed twice before
its closeIt yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me
So huge, so hopeless to
conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of
heaven,
And all we need of hell.
Brief Emily Dickinson Biography
Emily Dickinson was born on 10 December 1830 in Massachusetts, United States, and died there on 15 May
1886. Her parents were Edward Dickinson (1803-1874) and Emily Norcross Dickinson (1804-1882). The
family included three children: Austin (1828-1895), Emily, and Lavinia (1833-1899). Most of the family
belonged to the Congregational Church, though the poet herself never became a member. The Dickinsons were
well-off and well-educated. Both Edward and Austin were college graduates, leaders in the community and of
Amherst College. Edward Dickinson was a Whig (later a Republican) representative to state and national
legislatures. Emily had a strong secondary education and a year of college at South Hadley Female Seminary
(later Mount Holyoke College).
The poet was born in, and died in, a house called the Homestead, built by her grandfather Samuel Fowler
Dickinson in 1813. This house was sold out of the family, however, in 1833, and not re-purchased by Edward
Dickinson till 1855; so most of the poet's younger years were lived in other houses.
After her years at school, Emily Dickinson lived in the family home for the rest of her life. She cared for her
parents in their later years and was a companion to her sister Lavinia, who also stayed "at home" for her entire
life. Neither sister married. The extended Dickinson family included Austin's wife Susan Huntington Gilbert,
who lived for many years next door in the house called The Evergreens, and Susan and Austin's three children.
The myth, of course, is of Dickinson as a reclusive spinster-poet, brooding over a deep romantic mystery in her
past. The realities are more mundane. Especially among relatively wealthy families in 19th-century
Massachusetts, it was far from unusual for grown women simply to keep house as a primary occupation, neither
marrying nor working outside the home. The thing that sets Dickinson apart from other women of her class and
generation is simply her poetic gift, something attributable more to nature and culture than to some emotional
trauma.
We know much of Dickinson's life through her correspondences. She maintained a lifelong correspondence
with Susan Dickinson, even though they were next-door neighbors; this correspondence, preserved by Susan, is
the source for many of the poet's manuscripts. But Emily Dickinson also corresponded with school friends, with
her cousins Fanny and Loo Norcross, and with several people of letters, including Samuel Bowles, Dr. and Mrs.
J.G. Holland, T.W. Higginson, and Helen Hunt Jackson.
The central events, then, of Dickinson's life are those that are central to the lives of most writers: she wrote. She
compiled a manuscript record of nearly 1,800 poems, along with many letters. In or around 1858 she began to
keep manuscript books of her poetry, the "fascicles," hand-produced and hand-bound. In the early 1860s she
produced hundreds of poems each year. In 1864 and 1865, failing eyesight, which impelled her to make two
extended visits to Cambridge, Massachusetts for medical treatment, slowed her production of manuscript books.
But her production of manuscripts continued at a slower pace until her last illnesses in 1885-86.
Though she wrote hundreds of poems, Dickinson never published a book of poetry. The few poems published
during her lifetime were anonymous (see Publishing History). The reasons why she never published are still
unclear. A myth promoted by William Luce's play The Belle of Amherst (1976) is that Higginson discouraged
her writing; however, it is probably not the case that Dickinson met with rejection from the literary world. For
one thing, Higginson was instrumental in getting her poetry published soon after her death, suggesting that her
reluctance and not his disapproval was the barrier to him doing this earlier. Also, both Bowles and Hunt
Jackson arranged for anonymous publication of individual poems by Dickinson during the poet's lifetime. At
Hunt Jackson's suggestion, Thomas Niles of Roberts Brothers publishing house tried to get the poet to submit a
volume of poems for publication in 1883; she declined.
http://www.uta.edu/english/tim/poetry/ed/bio.html
Jabberwocky
By Lewis Carroll
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Answer the following questions:
1. What do you like about this poem?
2. What do you dislike about this poem?
3. What puzzles you about this poem?
4. What questions would you ask the author about this poem?
5. Do you think the ‘nonsense’ words in this poem are effective? Why/why not?
Carroll referred to the words he made up as portmanteau, because they collapsed onto each other, like
objects in a suitcase. Some of his portmanteau words have been incorporated into the English
language, while others have not. With a partner make a list of words you suspect are portmanteau.
Write a quatrain (a stanza of four lines, esp. one having alternate rhymes) that includes your own
invented words.
Jabberwocky
Some possible nonsense word meanings
Bandersnatch: A swift moving creature with snapping jaws. Capable of extending its neck.
Borogove: A thin shabby-looking bird with its feathers sticking out all round, something like a live
mop.
Brillig: Four o'clock in the afternoon: the time when you begin boiling things for dinner.
Burbled: A mixture of "bleat", "murmur", and "warble".
Chortled: Combination of chuckle and snort.
Frabjous: A blend of fair, fabulous, and joyous.
Frumious: Combination of "fuming" and "furious."
Galumphing: Perhaps a blend of "gallop" and "triumphant." (Used to describe a way of "trotting"
down hill, while keeping one foot further back than the other. This enables the Galumpher to stop
quickly).
Gimble: To make holes like a gimlet.
Gyre: To go round and round like a gyroscope, or to scratch like a dog.
Jubjub: A desperate bird that lives in perpetual passion.
Manxome: Combination of "monstrous" and "fearsome", or possibly "manly" and "buxom".
Mimsy: Combination of "miserable" and "flimsy."
Mome: Short for "from home”.
Outgrabe: (past tense; present tense outgribe) – Something between bellowing and whistling, with
a kind of sneeze in the middle.
Rath: A sort of green pig.
Slithy: Combination of "slimy" and "lithe”.
Toves: A combination of a badger, a lizard, and a corkscrew. They are very curious looking
creatures which make their nests under sundials. They live on cheese.
Uffish: A state of mind when the voice is gruffish, the manner roughish, and the temper huffish.
Wabe: The grass plot around a sundial. It is called a "wabe" because it goes a long way before it,
and a long way behind it, and a long way beyond it on each side.
Poetry Poker
Objective: Create an original poem from five lines of five random words.
What you need:
-4-6 players
-a deck of 30 word cards
-paper
-pencil/pen
Method of play:
1. A dealer is chosen. The oldest person is
the first dealer.
2. The dealer deals out five cards to each
person face down. The rest of the deck
is placed face down in the center.
3. Each person looks at their cards to see
what phrases and images can be created
from their word cards. You are allowed
to change the form of the word to make
it fit in a sentence. You are also allowed
to insert helping verbs (Chad B. Swim),
prepositions (in, of, during, about, etc.),
articles (a, an, the), and conjunctions.
4. You will have an opportunity to choose
some new words. Play will begin to the
left of the dealer. That person may opt
to discard up to three word cards. They
place the discarded cards face down
next to the deck. They then select new
replacement cards from the deck. Play
continues with the rest of the players.
When the deck runs out, shuffle the
discard pile, place it face down, and
select from that. Go around the circle
twice. If a player likes their cards, they
may say "Pass."
5. Once everyone has had two chances to
change cards, it is time to put the words
into a poetic line. Write the first poetic
line on your paper and share with the
members of your group. Use as many of
your word cards as possible.
6. Change dealers and play at least 4 more
rounds. After each round, write your
new poetic line beneath the previous one.
7. When you have completed five poetic
lines, try to rearrange the lines into a
poem and create a title. This is your
Poker Poem!
Example:
1. You are dealt the following words:
moonbeam, light, travel, mean, float
2. You decide moonbeam, light, and float
fit together in some way, so you decide
you will discard travel and mean when it
is your turn.
3. You discard those two cards and pick up
truck and boot.
4. On your next turn, you discard
moonbeam, light, and float and pick up
mean, frightening, and velvet.
5. Now you must fit the following five
words together in some way: truck,
boot, mean, frightening, velvet
6. You can change the form of the words
and add prepositions, articles, and
conjunctions to come up with: The
velvet boot is on a mean and frightful
truck.
Word list:
hyacinth
forest
grandeur
death
murmur
smeared
lagoon
clash
rose
sway
praise
denial
heart
listen
distress
scream
cemetery
fountain
harmony
creativity
death
vast
pleasure
reef
drowsy
forget
danger
grip
stranger
perspective
stare
season
anguish
shimmer
crush
pause
air
house
bleary
obvious
passion
life
earth
wish
love
giggle
twist
dream
hate
spring
grace
web
glass
moonlight
black
winter
soft
tangles
heaven
smoke
fog
murder
juggle
sharp
symbol
desert
street
struggle
curse
sour
ocean
beast
bird
journey
sky
warning
man
dissolve
follow
crust
soul
tangy
imagine
whisper
devotion
conspire
crash
crystal
kiss
gold
woman
scheme
happily
time
rainbow
sad
rare
quiver
reality
bold
honor
uncommon
deep
romantic
treasure
breeze
forever
deliver
wild
narrow
leisure
bright
gentle
feast
graceful
trap
reconcile
shy
lyrical
soft
gleam
firelight
immerse
paint
fling
shoestring
dawn
withered
swell
cliffs
tide
immortal
evening
ooze
deluge
prowl
stream
dust
sleep
mourn
dreadful
delirious
fruit
aroma
flippers
content
leaping
slippery
declare
glory
silver
chaos
rain
lilac
quiet
war
dark
storm
velvet
birth
ceremony
devotion
beautiful
breakfast
frolic
hidden
mountain
light
horse
butterfly
cruel
flamingo
unknown
misery
glorious
pursue
twilight
fragile
distant
bliss
allure
fire
mask
cold
rage
courage
eternal
stony
intense
tree
disaster
smile
children
eclipse
voice
evergreen
alone
mystical
sea
desire
feast
burn
desert
fish
grave
crave
summer
compose
chorus
wish
roar
endure
frost
"The River" by Garth Brooks
You know a dream is like a river, ever changing as it flows.
And a dreamer's just a vessel that must follow where it goes.
Trying to learn from what's behind you and never knowing what's in store
makes each day a constant battle just to stay between the shores.
And I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry.
Like a bird upon the wind, these waters are my sky.
I'll never reach my destination if I never try,
So I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry.
Too many times we stand aside and let the water slip away.
To what we put off 'til tomorrow has now become today.
So don't you sit upon the shore and say you're satisfied.
Choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tides.
-ChorusThere's bound to be rough waters, and I know I'll take some falls.
With the good Lord as my captain, I can make it through them all.
-Chorus_____________________________________________________________________
Poetic devices used in "The River": simile, metaphor, alliteration, hyperbole, couplet, personification, etc.
_____________________________________________________________________
"Music of the Night" by Andrew Lloyd Webber
Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.
Darkness wakes and stir imagination.
Silently the senses abandon their defenses,
Helpless to resist the notes I write,
For I compose the Music of the Night.
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor.
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender.
Hearing is believing. Music is deceiving.
Hard as lightening, soft as candlelight.
Dare you trust the Music of the Night?
Close your eyes, for your eyes will only tell the truth,
And the truth isn't what you want to hear.
In the dark it is easy to pretend...
That the truth is what it ought to be.
Softly, deftly, music shall caress you.
Hear it, fear it, secretly possess you.
Open up your mind; let your fantasies unwind.
In this darkness which you know you cannot find.
The darkness of the Music of the Night.
Close your eyes, start a journey to a strange new world.
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before.
Close your eyes and let music set you free...
Only then can you belong to me.
Floating, falling, sweet intoxication.
Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation.
Let the dream begin; let your darker side give in
To the power of the music that I write,
The power of the Music of the Night.
You alone can make my song take flight.
Help me make the Music of the Night.
________________________________________________________________________
Poetic devices in "Music of the Night": personification, imagery, alliteration, metaphor, simile, etc.
Songs as Poetry task
To be completed in your scrapbook
Copy down the words to at least 3 songs.
Label the examples of poetic devices found in each song (see list).
Write a paragraph (50 words) explaining the theme and/or purpose of
the song.
Note:
* You must have at least 3 songs.
* You must find at least 3 different poetic devices in each song.
* Songs may not contain profanity or inappropriate content.
Poetic Devices: alliteration, ballad, elegy, irony, paradox, allusion, hyperbole,
metaphor, personification, assonance, couplet, imagery, onomatopoeia, simile
(Only some of these devices have been covered in class – you may like to explore those
that we have not covered.)
Songs as Poetry task
To be completed in your scrapbook
Copy down the words to at least 3 songs.
Label the examples of poetic devices found in each song (see list).
Write a paragraph (50 words) explaining the theme and/or purpose of
the song.
Note:
* You must have at least 3 songs.
* You must find at least 3 different poetic devices in each song.
* Songs may not contain profanity or inappropriate content.
Poetic Devices: alliteration, ballad, elegy, irony, paradox, allusion, hyperbole,
metaphor, personification, assonance, couplet, imagery, onomatopoeia, simile
(Only some of these devices have been covered in class – you may like to explore those
that we have not covered.)