Jobs & Education1 min ago
Poems for Adult Learners
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My class has read and enjoyed "When i grow old i shall wear purple". Can anyone suggest any other suitable poems? Nothing too deep please.
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http://www.luvzbluez.com/purple.html
http://www.luvzbluez.com/purple.html
Hi,
I know he's not v. fashionable these days but some of John Betjemans poems are really accessible and can be quite amusing and/or nostalgic.
Wendy Cope is quite good too.
Hilaire Belloc's Cautionary Tales, although I suppose mainly aimed at the younger end, are really good, funny, with a kind of dark edge to them!! I always really liked them!!
Good luck!
LW
I know he's not v. fashionable these days but some of John Betjemans poems are really accessible and can be quite amusing and/or nostalgic.
Wendy Cope is quite good too.
Hilaire Belloc's Cautionary Tales, although I suppose mainly aimed at the younger end, are really good, funny, with a kind of dark edge to them!! I always really liked them!!
Good luck!
LW
I had this one at school, loved it for its use of words/imagery and also the rhythm when read out loud, like a train slow then speeding up
The Man In The Bowler Hat
by A.S.J. Tessimond
I am the unnoticed, the unnoticeable man:
The man who sat on your right in the morning train:
The man who you looked through like a windowpane:
The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting
Morning pipe smoke.
I am the man too busy with a living to live,
Too hurried and worried to see and smell and touch:
The man who is patient too long and obeys too much
And wishes too softly and seldom.
I am the man they call the nation's backbone,
Who am boneless - playable catgut, pliable clay:
The Man they label Little lest one day
I dare to grow.
I am the rails on which the moment passes,
The megaphone for many words and voices:
I am the graph diagram,
Composite face.
I am the led, the easily-fed,
The tool, the not-quite-fool,
The would-be-safe-and-sound,
The uncomplaining, bound,
The dust fine-ground,
Stone-for-a-statue waveworn pebble-round
The Man In The Bowler Hat
by A.S.J. Tessimond
I am the unnoticed, the unnoticeable man:
The man who sat on your right in the morning train:
The man who you looked through like a windowpane:
The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting
Morning pipe smoke.
I am the man too busy with a living to live,
Too hurried and worried to see and smell and touch:
The man who is patient too long and obeys too much
And wishes too softly and seldom.
I am the man they call the nation's backbone,
Who am boneless - playable catgut, pliable clay:
The Man they label Little lest one day
I dare to grow.
I am the rails on which the moment passes,
The megaphone for many words and voices:
I am the graph diagram,
Composite face.
I am the led, the easily-fed,
The tool, the not-quite-fool,
The would-be-safe-and-sound,
The uncomplaining, bound,
The dust fine-ground,
Stone-for-a-statue waveworn pebble-round
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