"Can I have dessert?" queried my six year old nephew.
I told him he absolutely could, after he wrote or selected a poem for Tuesday Teatime. It may be Spring Break, but there is always a time and place for stealth schooling.
The 13 year old cousins decided they wanted to compose their own poems, but weren't sure what to write about. "Tap dancing spiders!" "Cousins being eaten by a dragon!" commanded the eldest girl cousin in that way of first-borns everywhere who are accustomed to getting younger siblings to do all manner of ridiculous or impossible task merely because the primogenitarily favored demand it.
And in the manner of second borns everywhere who are accustomed to performing all manner of ridiculous or impossible task without pausing to wonder, "Why?" and without so much as a "You aren't the boss of me," the two 13 year old cousins turned out the following in under ten minutes:
Allison's poem
Every night when I go to sleep
All the creatures come out and creep.
The spiders, they tap dance with flair;
The rats make nests upon my long hair.
The roaches play with the flies and bugs;
The mice crawl under the purple rugs.
And when the rooster crows in the morn,
The animals scatter as the sun is born.
Nathan's poem
Once there was the day
my thoughts ran away.
My cousins were
eaten by a dragon.
With golden scales
like large hay bales,
and teeth like fire and
sharp as barbed wire.
Once there was a day
when my thoughts ran away.
My cousins were
eaten by a dragon.
So I set a trap in the
depths of my mind to
trap the gleaming evil.
But alas, I had not the
time, and came the golden
dragon prime. I tried to save
but no chance he gave, and
and ate them up in no time.
Once there was a day
my thoughts ran away.
My cousins were
eaten by a dragon.
First borns may set the agenda. But second borns get bonus cookies for originality and execution.
Blessings,
Holly
I told him he absolutely could, after he wrote or selected a poem for Tuesday Teatime. It may be Spring Break, but there is always a time and place for stealth schooling.
The 13 year old cousins decided they wanted to compose their own poems, but weren't sure what to write about. "Tap dancing spiders!" "Cousins being eaten by a dragon!" commanded the eldest girl cousin in that way of first-borns everywhere who are accustomed to getting younger siblings to do all manner of ridiculous or impossible task merely because the primogenitarily favored demand it.
And in the manner of second borns everywhere who are accustomed to performing all manner of ridiculous or impossible task without pausing to wonder, "Why?" and without so much as a "You aren't the boss of me," the two 13 year old cousins turned out the following in under ten minutes:
Allison's poem
Every night when I go to sleep
All the creatures come out and creep.
The spiders, they tap dance with flair;
The rats make nests upon my long hair.
The roaches play with the flies and bugs;
The mice crawl under the purple rugs.
And when the rooster crows in the morn,
The animals scatter as the sun is born.
Nathan's poem
Once there was the day
my thoughts ran away.
My cousins were
eaten by a dragon.
With golden scales
like large hay bales,
and teeth like fire and
sharp as barbed wire.
Once there was a day
when my thoughts ran away.
My cousins were
eaten by a dragon.
So I set a trap in the
depths of my mind to
trap the gleaming evil.
But alas, I had not the
time, and came the golden
dragon prime. I tried to save
but no chance he gave, and
and ate them up in no time.
Once there was a day
my thoughts ran away.
My cousins were
eaten by a dragon.
First borns may set the agenda. But second borns get bonus cookies for originality and execution.
Blessings,
Holly
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