poe try 4 th grade study. focus on genre: poetry pp. 514-523

Poetry

4th Grade Study

Focus on Focus on Genre: Genre: PoetryPoetry

pp. 514-pp. 514-523523

A poem can tell a story, express a feeling, or capture a moment. It can please the ear, using rhyme, musical rhythm,

and word sounds. It can delight the eye with words that make a picture on the page. In

its lines and stanzas, its images can make you see,

smell, taste, and feel the world around you.Houghton Mifflin: Traditions p. 515

The Seed (p. 517)

How does it know,this little seed,if it is to growto a flower or weed,if it is to bea vine or shoot,or grow to a treewith a long deep root?A seed is so small,where do you supposeit stores up allof the things it knows?

by Aileen Fisher

The Seed (p. 517)

How does it know,this little seed,if it is to growto a flower or weed,if it is to bea vine or shoot,or grow to a treewith a long deep root?A seed is so small,where do you supposeit stores up allof the things it knows?

by Aileen Fisher

By Myself (p. 517)When I’m by myselfAnd I close my eyesI’m a twinI’m a dimple in a chinI’m a room full of toysI’m a squeaky noiseI’m a gospel songI’m a gongI’m a leaf turning redI’m a loaf of brown breadI’m a whatever I want to beAn anything I care to beAnd when I open my eyesWhat I care to beIs me

by Eloise Greenfield

By Myself (p. 517)When I’m by myselfAnd I close my eyesI’m a twinI’m a dimple in a chinI’m a room full of toysI’m a squeaky noiseI’m a gospel songI’m a gongI’m a leaf turning redI’m a loaf of brown breadI’m a whatever I want to beAn anything I care to beAnd when I open my eyesWhat I care to beIs me

by Eloise Greenfield

Ode to My Shoes (p. 518)

my shoesrestall nightunder my bed

tired they stretchand loosentheir laces

wide openthey fall asleepand dreamof walking

they revisitthe placesthey went toduring the day

and wake upcheerfulrelaxedso soft

by Francisco X. Alarcón

Ode to My Shoes (p. 518)

my shoesrestall nightunder my bed

tired they stretchand loosentheir laces

wide openthey fall asleepand dreamof walking

they revisitthe placesthey went toduring the day

and wake upcheerfulrelaxedso soft

by Francisco X. Alarcón

Pencils (p. 519) by Barbara Esbensen

The rooms in a pencilare narrowbut elephants castles andwatermelonsfit in

In a pencilnoisy words yell for attentionand quiet words wait their turn

How did they slipinto such a tight place?Whogives them theirlunch?

From a broken pencilan unbroken poem will come!There is a long story livingin the shortest pencil

Every word in yourpencilis fearless ready to walkthe blue tightrope linesReadyto teeter and smiledown Ready to come right outand show youthinking!

Pencils (p. 519) by Barbara Esbensen

The rooms in a pencilare narrowbut elephants castles andwatermelonsfit in

In a pencilnoisy words yell for attentionand quiet words wait their turn

How did they slipinto such a tight place?Whogives them theirlunch?

From a broken pencilan unbroken poem will come!There is a long story livingin the shortest pencil

Every word in yourpencilis fearless ready to walkthe blue tightrope linesReadyto teeter and smiledown Ready to come right outand show youthinking!

The Anteater (p. 520)

The anteater’s long and tacky tongue is snaking from its snout.

A thousand termites riding in,but no one riding out.

by Douglas Florian

The Anteater (p. 520)

The anteater’s long and tacky tongue is snaking from its snout.

A thousand termites riding in,but no one riding out.

by Douglas Florian

The Panther (p. 520)

The panther is like a leopard,Except it hasn’t been peppered.Should you behold a panther crouch,Prepare to say Ouch.Better yet, if called by a panther,Don’t anther.

by Ogden Nash

The Panther (p. 520)

The panther is like a leopard,Except it hasn’t been peppered.Should you behold a panther crouch,Prepare to say Ouch.Better yet, if called by a panther,Don’t anther.

by Ogden Nash

Rabbit (p. 521) A rabbit

bit A little bit An itty-bitty

Little bit of beet. Then bit By bit He bit

Because he liked the taste of it. But when he bit A wee bit more, It was more bitter than before. “This beet is bitter!” Rabbit cried. “I feel a bit unwell inside!” But when he bit Another bite, that bit of beet Seemed quite all right. BesidesWhen all is said and done, Better bitter beet Than none.

by Mary Ann Hoberman

Rabbit (p. 521) A rabbit

bit A little bit An itty-bitty

Little bit of beet. Then bit By bit He bit

Because he liked the taste of it. But when he bit A wee bit more, It was more bitter than before. “This beet is bitter!” Rabbit cried. “I feel a bit unwell inside!” But when he bit Another bite, that bit of beet Seemed quite all right. BesidesWhen all is said and done, Better bitter beet Than none.

by Mary Ann Hoberman

Sky-Fish (p. 522)Yesterdaywe thought of fishingwhen the lake was purpled-out.But we didn’ttake our fish polesor our hooks . . . we went without.

Uncle Stephenrowed the rowboatwhere the moon made silver bands,and our fingersfished for moonfish,but they slithered from our hands.

Then we triedto catch the starfishbobbing bright, with shiny scales,but they dribbledthrough our fingersas they flicked their starfish tails.

Yesterdaywe went out fishingwhere the sky-fish glittered bright,and I’m gladwe didn’t catch themso they’ll still be there tonight.

by Aileen Fisher

Sky-Fish (p. 522)Yesterdaywe thought of fishingwhen the lake was purpled-out.But we didn’ttake our fish polesor our hooks . . . we went without.

Uncle Stephenrowed the rowboatwhere the moon made silver bands,and our fingersfished for moonfish,but they slithered from our hands.

Then we triedto catch the starfishbobbing bright, with shiny scales,but they dribbledthrough our fingersas they flicked their starfish tails.

Yesterdaywe went out fishingwhere the sky-fish glittered bright,and I’m gladwe didn’t catch themso they’ll still be there tonight.

by Aileen Fisher

I Watched an Eagle Soar (p. 523)

Grandmother,I watched an eagle soarhigh in the skyuntil a cloud covered him up.Grandmother,I still saw the eaglebehind my eyes.

by Virginia Driving hawk Sneve

I Watched an Eagle Soar (p. 523)

Grandmother,I watched an eagle soarhigh in the skyuntil a cloud covered him up.Grandmother,I still saw the eaglebehind my eyes.

by Virginia Driving hawk Sneve

Resources

http://globe-views.com/dcim/dreams/beet/beet-01.jpg