POEM: My Sister Loves Worms

Girl with wormA

My sister loves worms
She loves how they wiggle
My sister loves worms
She loves how they jiggle
My sister loves worms
Wherever they are found
My sister loves worms
Under muddy ground
My sister loves worms
On her comfy bed
My sister loves worms
On her silky head
My sister loves worms
Sat on our telly
My sister loves worms
Squirming in her belly

Advertisements

WRITING TIP 4: About Spelling…

spellingishard_fullpic_1

I’m sorry to say but often spelling gets in the way of good story writing, along with handwriting. Parents panic about it, pointing out any ‘simple’ errors to their children. Teachers fret about it because it can influence Assessment scores.

This is bad.

By all this panic and fretting, you get very worried. You begin to believe that spelling and handwriting make a good story. That any story where it is a bit wobbly is not a good story.

WRONG!

When a writer is writing their story for the first time (first draft) there is only one thing they are worried about: getting to the end of the story. That’s right! You should only worry about getting your ideas down, following your characters as they go on their adventure in whatever world or place you have put them in.

That doesn’t mean writers ignore spelling, punctuation and that grammar stuff. It just means we check all that when we do a second draft. That’s a time to fix that.

And handwriting?

Well, a published work should be readable. But you only worry about that at the very end. And you could always use a computer.

So stop worrying for now about that spelling and punctuation stuff. Sit down. Dream. And get that story down – to the end!

 

POEM: Arting Loudly

arting loudly

I can’t believe it
It can’t be true
That such a thing
Came out of you
A pallet of colour
Not to my taste
Shot out of your bottom
All over the place
A parp of Van Gogh
A dash of O’Keefe
Made me needing
A bit of relief
A Michelangelo scent
Descends down the stairs
A litter of drawings
Fly through the air
A raucous Picasso
Looks a bit out of place
Shooting through the room
To mess up my face
A fragrance of beans
Floats through the hall
Should have stuck to soup
Like Andy Warhol.