Could also incorporate IT animation. Click here to cancel reply. You must be logged in to post a comment. Skip to main menu Skip to content. Materials: Paper and pens Photocopies of Resources 2 below for the students Resources Lesson Plan Some different styles of poetry Stimulus pictures Prior knowledge Teacher should have a good understanding of poetry, or the enthusiasm to explore the genre with their students! Introduction 1. How to meet a new idea Dog and squirrel: steps in a flirtation Dog in bed Discuss poem Did you like it? What was the message? Compare and contrast the different styles Brainstorm the purposes for using different styles 2.
This activity should be fast paced and fun! The teacher will sound a timer at 5 minutes and each group will select a different style to practice. Repeat until all groups have practices with at least 3 styles. Which styles best suited the stimulus and why? Conclusion 3. They will consider the following Which style of poetry will best portray the story suggested by their chosen stimulus? Correct structure and rhythm of the style of poetry selected. What will the title of the poem be?
How will I present my poem — visually on the page? London Crew, G. Lothian, Port Melbourne. I've never asked. This is the story of a dog named Bandy. She was what some people like to call a mutt.
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You know, the kind of dog that has a shaggy coat and a short stubby tail, and so many different colors of brown, gold, and gray that you get dizzy if you look at them too long. The kind of dog that always seemed out of place, no matter where you went. When my mother was a girl, she was a bit like Bandy; not the most popular pup in the litter, didn't get the best grades, did not have the latest fashions, which every girl at her school just had to have.
She also walked to school, which was considered very uncool. She made her way home one afternoon, having had the worst possible day. Bad grade on a math test, lost her history essay, had forgotten her lunch — need I say more? It was just a rotten day. Inside the box was one little mutt that no one seemed to have wanted. She couldn't stand to leave it there, so she took the little puppy out of its box. Immediately it began to lick her face. It was love at first sight.
At that instant my mother knew she was going to keep it. My mother decided to call her Bandy, because she found her abandoned.
Although there are no remaining photos of Bandy, her memory will live on forever. She helped my mother understand the importance of life and affection. She guided my mother to appreciating everything and everyone as much as possible. At the Last Minute At the last minute something addles the brain. Plans are made, bags are packed, the car is in the driveway, when the descent into utter madness begins. Due at the airport in an hour, I frantically try to tame Neanderthal hair and cover three new zits on a nose the size of China's Great Wall.
I rant and rave, cursing gods who hide essential clothing, then pray unanswered for a new body — or at least one that will allow me to button my favorite jeans. I find him dealing with the moment in his own way: panting, grinning, digging up a mess of dead skunk.
Tag Dog and toad play tag under the spring junipers. I fear for the toad. The Banner of Dog Behold the banner of Dog flapping in the breeze: four pawprints and a burr on a mud-brown field. He who defends it shows no stiff ruff nor growling gait. Instead, tail reeling like a windmill, he bows to his attacker, rolls over shamelessly, and offers up his secret weapon: charm.
In the end, all swear allegiance. Behold the banner of Dog waving in the sun: four pawprints and a burr on a mud-brown field.
Standing on the porch with a small, nondescript terrier at my feet, I scan the yard purposefully. My eyes spot a squirrel innocently crouching in the middle of the yard. Without moving, I whisper softly, "Go get it. The dog chases the squirrel up a tree and continues barking.kessai-payment.com/hukusyuu/comment-pirater/nava-localiser-telephone-fr.php
Sidman, Joyce 1956-
I call out his name for ten full minutes before deciding it is useless. I walk out to the lawn, catch the still-barking dog under my arm, and take him into the house. Motivated solely by food, love, and small vermin, my dog Rusty is a constant source of amusement. Within a few months of his arrival, he had eaten an entire lemon pie and a whole bag of chocolates.
Needless to say, I have learned a lot since he arrived. I have learned to put all food away, to push the chairs in at the table, and, most importantly, never to leave a meal unattended for any length of time. I have also learned the location of every other dog in the neighborhood. I have discovered exactly what a dog's idea of "helping" with homework is, and how comforting a squirrel-chasing, book-hogging, face-licking, pie-scarfing little terrier's presence can be.
Dog and Squirrel: Steps in a Flirtation The bushy flick of your tail catches my attention.
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You are now my bull's-eye. This will be a fine game. Whenever you lower your guard, I step forward. I never lower my guard.
The World According to Dog: Poems and Teen Voices | HMH Books
All escape routes are intact. My body is an arrow pointing at your heart. I draw closer. The space between us is nothing. I can taste the silk of your tail. You can't possibly get away now. Still, those eyes Gaze locked, I pounce! And you are Gone, of course. My heart pounds! See you tomorrow? Stink I am trying to understand this. I am standing with the hose in one hand and the other grabbing the scruff of your neck, trying to understand this.
The shampoo streaks across your back like honey, and the foam coats my furious legs, and the cold, cold water pumped from two hundred feet down chills us both; and I am trying to understand this ecstasy of stink that has me retching but made you dive and roll, eyes closed in bliss, feet waving at the sun, oblivious to my voice, as if you had discovered all the world's wealth in a single spot and wanted nothing more than to share its bright gold.
Growing up in a family of dog lovers, I had no choice but to carry this title as I grew up. Please, don't get me wrong: I love dogs. Our family has two on our ranch; one is a German shepherd mix and the other is of unknown breed, but he looks remarkably like a coyote.
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