Презентація на тему "World Poetry Day".

One Perfect Rose  by Dorothy Parker

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet—
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
'My fragile leaves,' it said, 'his heart enclose.'
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.

Love's Secret  by William Blake

Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart;
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears,
Ah! she did depart!

Soon as she was gone from me,
A traveler came by,
Silently, invisibly
He took her with a sigh.

My heart ‘s in the Highlands by Robert Burns

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of valour, the country of worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high cover’d with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods:

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands wherever I go.

When Mommy Is Away

I'd like to tell you all about
A very stormy day,
When Daddy stayed at home with me
While Mummy went away.
He made the beds and swept the floor,
And did the washing up.
(And do you know,he broke a plate,
Two saucers and a cup.)
Then,when he bathed me,after tea,
He taught me how to swim.
(And there were puddles on the floor,
And drips all over him!)
The Mummy came home just in time
To see me getting down.
"Next time I'll stay at home,"she said,
"While Daddy goes to town."

Sick by Shel Silverstein

“I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more--that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

Lovesick by Kenn Nesbitt

I'm feeling sick.
My face is red.
I'm dazed and dizzy
in my head.
I think I need to
stay in bed
at least about a week.

My stomach's tied
in awful knots.
I'm breaking out
with purple spots.
I'm seeing stars
and lots of dots.
I feel like I should shriek.

I don't know what
to do or say.
I'd never ever
felt this way,
until today
when Anna-Kay
kissed me on the cheek.

 My teacher calls me sweetie cakes by Kenn Nesbitt
My classmates think it’s funny
to hear her call me angel face
or pookie bear or honey.

She calls me precious baby doll.
She calls me pumpkin pie
or doodle bug or honey bunch
or darling butterfly.

My class is so embarrassing
I need to find another;
just any class at all
in which the teacher’s not my mother.

Stars  by Gareth Lancaster

Look at the stars,
Way up there,
So very far away.
High in the sky,
They shine so white,
And never seem to stray.

Like little dots,
Or specks of paint,
Just floating up above.
I wonder,
What they do up there,
And what they are made of.

Are they just holes,
Poked out the sky,
By giants long ago?
Or maybe they're,
Electric lights,
Strung up to make a show!

So far up there,
I'd like to be,
To take a look first hand.
To just get close,
And have a peek,
That really would be grand!