Showing posts with label drift. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drift. Show all posts

Friday, 11 November 2016

Presenting a poem: Silverly

Presenting poems does not follow rules; on the contrary, I would say that it all depends on the poem of course, on your class and on your strengths or weaknesses as a teacher or as a person.

I am not the world’s most extroverted person, but when it comes to reading stories and poems to children I have had so much practice with my own children that I am a natural! I will change voices, I will exaggerate movements, I will bring the poem alive, I will do all I can to draw the students into it.

One of my favourites is a short poem called Silverly:

Silverly
             Silverly,                                Dozily,
         Silverly,                                Dozily,
         Over the                       Deep in her
         Trees                                           Bed
The moon drifts,                   A little girl
         By on a                Dreams with the            Runaway         Moon in her
         Breeze.                                     Head

                                                                                            
There is a mesmerizing quality about it not just in the images it evokes but also in its enunciation. So here is how I go about it:
I ask my pupils, young ones normally, to rest their heads on the desk and close their eyes. I switch off the light, I put on my soft mellow voice and read dragging the words out and maintaining a tempo throughout the reading.

Then I ask the pupils to draw an image of what they make of the poem. It is not essential that they know all the words so they can do so. They will want to hear it again so that they can draw the picture, which reinforces listening skills.

I get some original pictures in response to the poem – often of a disproportionately large moon hovering in the sky with a little girl lying in bed far below and her long orange hair loose all over the bed.
I then show them a powerpoint slideshow, which you can see below and I focus on “drift”. As my pupils are quite young, I only elicit the literal use of the word by drawing
·       some food cooking, the smell of which drifts down the stairs
·       a boat drifting in the sea
·       a woman whose perfume drifts all over the room

and asking them to write a sentence for each picture using the word “drift”.


Methodological choices must be made all the time and they all depend on what one’s aims are. Mine was to provide a Friday evening break from the routine while exposing my pupils to spoken language and exciting their imagination as well as presenting the lexical item “drift” through the motion of the slideshow.


Sunday, 18 September 2016

Cloudland



Clouds are a fascinating spectacle and one of my favourite themes. There is so much one can associate with clouds.
They evoke all kinds of memories: bright as well as dark. Imagine lying peacefully on a beach far from the madding crowds watching the clouds drifting  high up. So much hidden in them: dragons from childhood fairy tales, UFOs from spooky science fiction, workers running across a field in search of shelter, mercilessly crushing with their feet the ripe tomatoes they were picking only a few moments ago and drenching the thirsty earth with their blood-red juice.
Clouds have a way of losing themselves behind mountain tops or of materializing before your eyes out of a blue sky.
Clouds bring the redeeming rain that will cleanse us of the summer dust and will secure the crop of the farmer.
Clouds wreak havoc when they pelt earth and everything that populates it with rain and hail.
Your eyes become clouded and also your judgement becomes clouded.
Read what you will into clouds, it will resonate with people the length and breadth of earth.
Here is one of my poems with a cloud theme:


A CLOUD
A lonely cloud
Puffy and pallid
An aimless trade
Across the blueness
Plied

It floated indolent
Over the hilly fields
Half envious
Of life below
Until the wind blew

Immaterial master
It breathed and gusted
Besieged the cloud
A violent collision
Therein forcing

And forthwith started
A speedy descent
The journey was long
And precipitous
But the fall soft
And redeeming