SPEECH EXERCISES AND POEMS
Alliterations
Blossoms beautiful and bright
Bursting into bloom
Bees and butterflies in flight
By the banks of Broome.
Sailing ships on swelling seas
Shining sun and summer breeze.
Cold, cold the cruel king
Cold the crystal cave.
Crafty gnomes there creep and cling
Cunning clefts they cleave.
The day is dark and dank and dreary
Dank and dreary drives the rain!
The farmer flings the fruitful seed
Afar upon the furrowed field.
Forge me with fire
A sword for my smiting.
Fright to my foes
And flame for my fighting.
A hunter went a-hunting
A-hunting for a hare.
But where he thought the hare would
be
He found a hairy bear!
The light that lingers long and low
Makes the lovely flowers glow.
All the halls have yellow, hollow
walls.
Meekly march the merry mowers
‘Neath the mild and muffled moon.
Now the night is nigh its noon,
Nimble gnomes beneath the moon.
Pansies purple, poppies red
Primrose pale with golden head.
Rustle of trees and ripple of rain
Roaring of rivers across the plain.
Rumbling in the chimneys
Rattling at the door
Round the roofs and round the roads
The rude wind roars.
Raging through the darkness
Raving through the trees
Racing off again across
The great grey seas
A tutor who tooted the flute
Tried to tutor two tooters to toot.
Said the two to the tutor,
“Is it harder to toot?
Or to tutor two tooters to toot?”
Through the thick and thorny thistles
Thrust and thrashed the thirsty
throstles.
The wind goes whispering where she
willows
Wave with waters wide between.
One by one the wild birds waking
Warble sweet in woodland green.
Other Selections
Chip-chop, chip-chop
The woodsman with his chopper
chops.
Chip-chop, chip-chop
Stout and strong and proper chops
On beeches, oaks and larches too
His hatchet brightly rings;
And while he chops so merrily
As merrily he sings;
Chip-chop, chip-chop
Stout and strong and proper chops.
Chip-chop, chip-chop
The woodsman with his chopper
chops.
The Eagle (by Tennyson)
He clasps the crags with crooked
hands
Close to the sun in lonely lands
Ringed with the azure world he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls
He watches from his mountain walls
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
From “Singing in the Rain”
Moses supposes his toeses are roses
But Moses supposes erroneously
For nobodies toeses are poses of roses
As Moses supposes his toeses to be.
High on the Mountain Olympus
High on the Mountain Olympus
Gods are arrayed in their glory
Downward below with the mortals
Evil and darkness hold sway.
Now would we show you the story
Of one who arose from the darkness.
Mortal he strove with immortals
Out of the shadows brought light.
Yet would he never have conquered
Lacking the help of a maiden
She who gave gold for his guiding
Lead him to light with her thread.
From The Challenge of Thor
(Henry Longfellow)
I am the god Thor
I am the war god,
I am the thunderer!
Here in my northland,
My fastness and fortress,
Reign I forever!
Here amid icebergs
Rule I the nations;
This is my hammer,
Miolnir the mighty;
Giants and sorcerers
Cannot withstand it!
The light thou beholdest
Streams through the heavens
In flashes of crimson,
Is but my red beard
Blown by the night wind,
Affrighting the nations.
Odin’s my father
Mine eyes are the lightning
The wheels of my chariot
Roll in the thunder
The blows of my hammer
Ring in the earthquake.
I am the god Thor
I am the war god,
I am the thunderer!
Here in my northland,
My fastness and fortress,
Reign I forever!
Collected from Nan Jacobs and various other sources - Steven Levy - 2011