News1 min ago
Seasonal Readings
25 Answers
Can anyone suggest any seasonal readings or poems I could read out loud at a small group meeting in January, please.
Each member of the group has been asked to read a passage or a poem of our choice, serious or humerous and I don't know where to look!
Each member of the group has been asked to read a passage or a poem of our choice, serious or humerous and I don't know where to look!
Answers
Hiya, it may not be seasonal, but if you wanted to orate animatedly with a bit of humour to your group and get questions flying after, how about a 'Murder Mystery/ Whodunnit' poem to keep them guessing? You may have to repeat it a couple of times for them to find the bad guy within the lines. Heres a link to an example:...
22:04 Thu 19th Dec 2013
Hiya, it may not be seasonal, but if you wanted to orate animatedly with a bit of humour to your group and get questions flying after, how about a 'Murder Mystery/ Whodunnit' poem to keep them guessing? You may have to repeat it a couple of times for them to find the bad guy within the lines. Heres a link to an example: http://
Or for a more serene level of winter prose, this website is good for ideas:
http://
Hope you find what you are looking for. Pea :-)
Or for a more serene level of winter prose, this website is good for ideas:
http://
Hope you find what you are looking for. Pea :-)
Hi Canasta,
right, I've had a giggle writing this so I hope you aren't expecting a masterpiece! :-) The poem I've done is too long to post on here, so I've put it on my blog instead. If you like it, you are more than welcome to use it for your group meeting. Please have a look via the following link: http://
All the very best, Pea.
right, I've had a giggle writing this so I hope you aren't expecting a masterpiece! :-) The poem I've done is too long to post on here, so I've put it on my blog instead. If you like it, you are more than welcome to use it for your group meeting. Please have a look via the following link: http://
All the very best, Pea.
If each member of the group is doing something, can I suggest that you keep it fairly short? if there are five of you in the group, if everyone in the group does something 10 minutes long, allowing for changeover and applause, laughter, outcry, discussion, each piece will actually require 15 minutes. add hello/goodbye time, refreshments and so on and you are building up to a longish meeting!
Hi Canasta,
Sorry, here you go, if you copy and paste to a word doc, you can print it off, I'ts too long to fit in one answerbank 'answer box' so it's overlapped into 2 for the last bit. Enjoy:-)
Picture this if you will on a cold winter’s night
A tale of horror, Yes! A real tale of fright!
In a house full of guests, all of varying ilk
The murderer prowls round as softly as silk
With a fisherman, a station guard, a lady, a couple,
A Banker and a Loan Shark, you know there’ll be trouble,
A film-star, a pianist, a butcher and still,
A Lawyer, which is handy, - they might need a Will,
They’ve all eaten soundly and drunk the house dry
Let me speak of the guests now as each, they walk by....
Oliver Pickett, the old station guard,
A jolly big oaf with a good wholesome heart,
Loved by all, but who was to know,
By midnight that eve, he’d be face down in the snow.
Strolled to the library to take a phone call,
Nobody missed him, not one saw him fall,
After the strangle, the killer did not linger,
But walked quickly away, with a rope burned finger
With Lady McDoole now, fearless and shrill,
To be the next victim to fall to the kill,
Disliked by most, and hated by some,
All the time nagging, till she saw the gun,
Dressed in gold-pearls-diamonds, yes you’d hate her too,
Each guest breathed a sigh when she nipped to the loo,
The hidden guest watched and bided their time,
Lady reached for the flush, in direct firing line,
The gun it was silenced, but went off with a flash,
The murderer’s hands were all covered in ash.
Bert O’Flaherty now into the mix,
Drink was his vice, to stay calm and to fix,
The rage that boiled up and caused lots of strife,
When he spotted another guest covet his wife,
The wife disappeared, so with eyes a-glare,
He ran through the hallway and stormed up the stairs,
Such speed did he gain that just as he tripped,
He spotted the carpet was purposely ripped,
No time to scream out, though his mind was a riot,
Bert’s neck it went crack! Then all went quiet
The murderer left, for the next victim we trust,
Slipped out, nails full of stair carpet dust
The flirty wife Alice was all grace and charm,
A flutter of eyelash, a touch on the arm,
A smile on the sly, the shake of her bustle,
She wanted a real man, she wanted to hustle,
Her plan to ensnare was her big mistake,
The poker was picked up from the warm fire grate,
It flew through the air and caught her forehead,
No real man did she get, for now she was dead
With death down to an art, the fiend felt like Picasso,
As they slid through the house, with hands covered in Brasso
The film star, a failure, was called Penny Moon,
Her career was all over, her looks gone too soon,
She maintained her pride though and held up her chin,
And glazed her eyes over with opium within,
She drank mostly water, she fiddled with food,
And left the guests quietly so not to seem rude,
The cloakroom was empty, and smelt of old socks,
Whilst powdering her nose, she didn’t hear the lock,
But saw in the mirror and as she turned round in fright,
A coat-hanger sprung forth and words spoken, ‘night, night’.
The butcher was Earnest Hill, honest and true,
His stock was all perfect, his cleavers brand new,
But he hated all lawyers and despised the banker,
The film-star was boring and the pianist a...,
So he cut dinner short and escaped with a pardon,
Went into the night for a turn round the garden,
Outdoors it was fresh with a chill in the air,
Earnest stood by a gateway when out of nowhere,
A gargoyle crashed down, stopped him dead on the lawn,
The gargoyle was ruined, it had been a faun,
The murderer grinned, they’d caused so much trouble,
Now, to find some hand soap to wash off all the rubble.
So many struck down! Hmm... now, who did still live?
The Lawyer, Loan Shark, Banker, Fisherman and Pianist,
Who did the murders, and what do you think?
They all got ‘knocked off’ quicker than you could blink!
If you were detective, who’d fit the crime?
Think though, their hands will be covered in grime
Sorry, here you go, if you copy and paste to a word doc, you can print it off, I'ts too long to fit in one answerbank 'answer box' so it's overlapped into 2 for the last bit. Enjoy:-)
Picture this if you will on a cold winter’s night
A tale of horror, Yes! A real tale of fright!
In a house full of guests, all of varying ilk
The murderer prowls round as softly as silk
With a fisherman, a station guard, a lady, a couple,
A Banker and a Loan Shark, you know there’ll be trouble,
A film-star, a pianist, a butcher and still,
A Lawyer, which is handy, - they might need a Will,
They’ve all eaten soundly and drunk the house dry
Let me speak of the guests now as each, they walk by....
Oliver Pickett, the old station guard,
A jolly big oaf with a good wholesome heart,
Loved by all, but who was to know,
By midnight that eve, he’d be face down in the snow.
Strolled to the library to take a phone call,
Nobody missed him, not one saw him fall,
After the strangle, the killer did not linger,
But walked quickly away, with a rope burned finger
With Lady McDoole now, fearless and shrill,
To be the next victim to fall to the kill,
Disliked by most, and hated by some,
All the time nagging, till she saw the gun,
Dressed in gold-pearls-diamonds, yes you’d hate her too,
Each guest breathed a sigh when she nipped to the loo,
The hidden guest watched and bided their time,
Lady reached for the flush, in direct firing line,
The gun it was silenced, but went off with a flash,
The murderer’s hands were all covered in ash.
Bert O’Flaherty now into the mix,
Drink was his vice, to stay calm and to fix,
The rage that boiled up and caused lots of strife,
When he spotted another guest covet his wife,
The wife disappeared, so with eyes a-glare,
He ran through the hallway and stormed up the stairs,
Such speed did he gain that just as he tripped,
He spotted the carpet was purposely ripped,
No time to scream out, though his mind was a riot,
Bert’s neck it went crack! Then all went quiet
The murderer left, for the next victim we trust,
Slipped out, nails full of stair carpet dust
The flirty wife Alice was all grace and charm,
A flutter of eyelash, a touch on the arm,
A smile on the sly, the shake of her bustle,
She wanted a real man, she wanted to hustle,
Her plan to ensnare was her big mistake,
The poker was picked up from the warm fire grate,
It flew through the air and caught her forehead,
No real man did she get, for now she was dead
With death down to an art, the fiend felt like Picasso,
As they slid through the house, with hands covered in Brasso
The film star, a failure, was called Penny Moon,
Her career was all over, her looks gone too soon,
She maintained her pride though and held up her chin,
And glazed her eyes over with opium within,
She drank mostly water, she fiddled with food,
And left the guests quietly so not to seem rude,
The cloakroom was empty, and smelt of old socks,
Whilst powdering her nose, she didn’t hear the lock,
But saw in the mirror and as she turned round in fright,
A coat-hanger sprung forth and words spoken, ‘night, night’.
The butcher was Earnest Hill, honest and true,
His stock was all perfect, his cleavers brand new,
But he hated all lawyers and despised the banker,
The film-star was boring and the pianist a...,
So he cut dinner short and escaped with a pardon,
Went into the night for a turn round the garden,
Outdoors it was fresh with a chill in the air,
Earnest stood by a gateway when out of nowhere,
A gargoyle crashed down, stopped him dead on the lawn,
The gargoyle was ruined, it had been a faun,
The murderer grinned, they’d caused so much trouble,
Now, to find some hand soap to wash off all the rubble.
So many struck down! Hmm... now, who did still live?
The Lawyer, Loan Shark, Banker, Fisherman and Pianist,
Who did the murders, and what do you think?
They all got ‘knocked off’ quicker than you could blink!
If you were detective, who’d fit the crime?
Think though, their hands will be covered in grime
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