These poems are from my book, There's a Giant in My Classroom, Infinity Press, 2013. Please feel to copy and use for classroom and instructional purposes.
Becky’s Hopping, Hopping, Hopping Down the Hall
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall,
And it doesn’t seem to bother her at all.
Hopping
left foot, hopping right,
‘Till she
hops clear out of sight.
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall,
Hopping more than any kid I can recall.
Could it be
that she’s part rabbit,
Or is it
just a nasty habit,
That keeps her hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.
Sees her classmates and hollers, “Hi, y’all.
The day was
bright and sunny,
So, I’m
hopping like a bunny.
Yes, I’m hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.”
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall,
And I’m hoping that she doesn’t take a fall.
She just
ran into Jim,
Now she’s
hopping over him!
Please stop hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.
She’s got more bounces than a basketball.
With strong
ankles, knees and thighs,
She can out
hop all the guys.
She’s still hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping out the door,
Past the ball field and the grocery store!
Hopping up
streets, hopping down
Now she’s
hopped clear out of town.
I’m not sure that we will see her anymore.
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall,
And it doesn’t seem to bother her at all.
Hopping
left foot, hopping right,
‘Till she
hops clear out of sight.
Becky’s hopping, hopping, hopping down the hall.
Walking
Frontwards, Looking Backwards
Whenever Jamie leaves the room,
I fear she’s headed for a fall
‘Cause she’s walking frontwards, looking backwards
As she travels down the hall.
Walking frontwards, looking backwards,
It’s a habit, I suppose.
When you walk where you’re not looking,
Where you’ll end up, Heaven knows!
It was a week ago last Tuesday
(I believe I’ve got it right).
Walking through a deep, dark closet,
She gave herself a horrid fright.
Walking frontwards, looking backwards,
It’s a habit I suppose.
When you walk where you’re not looking,
You’ll get bruises on your nose.
She’s a menace in the hallways;
Where she’s walking, she can’t see.
She walked into the Principal,
And bashed him on the knee.
Walking frontwards, looking backwards
It’s a habit, I suppose,
When you walk where you’re not looking,
You might step on people’s toes.
We were walking to the art room,
Single file and looking fine.
The teacher signaled us to stop – and CRASH!
Jamie knocked down ten kids in line.
Walking frontwards, looking backwards,
It’s a habit, I suppose.
When you walk where you’re not looking,
You’re a danger to straight rows.
So if you walk front while looking back,
Remember Jamie, that poor soul.
She kept on looking backwards,
And walked---SMACK! into a pole
Counting
Tiles
I’m counting tiles upon the floor,
As I walk out the classroom door.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
Then there’s eight, nine, ten, eleven.
Turn the corner; keep going straight.
I count twelve through one-oh-eight.
The next one here is one-oh-nine,
Counting tiles – a hobby of mine.
Past the art room, that’s one-ten.
The next is one-eleven. Then
When at the bathroom I arrive,
I’ve counted up to two-oh-five.
While counting out two-fifty-two,
I step on some big person’s shoe.
Looking up, what do I see?
My teacher on two-fifty-three.
“Back to class,” teacher declares.
So, I cease with counting squares.
But tomorrow – I can’t wait ‘till then
I’ll be back counting tiles again.
copyright 2013 by Russ Walsh
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