Grade 5 Mentor Poems Please note that these mentor poems were selected to support the teaching points of the curriculum and they are suggestions for your use. The more you can use only a few poems and reread them showing different teaching points, the better your students will understand the poems and meet the CCLS. The poem Night Sounds by Felice Holman should NOT be used as a mentor text; it is intended for each of the Outcome Assessments. Poem Suggested Teaching Point A Patch of Old Snow by Robert Frost 3.1,3.2 Oil Slick By Judith Thruman/A Patch of 3.3a, 3.3b Old Snow In The Garden by Emily Dickenson 3.3b Frogs at Night/ Cranky Old Man 3.4 Figurative Language Poems -see 3.5 curriculum page resources listed for 4.5 Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence 3.6 Thayer Harlem [Dreams Deferred] by 3.7 Langston Hughes A Patch of Old Snow or any poem in 3.8 the collection in which the structural elements are discussed A Patch of Old Snow 3.9 Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence 3.10/3.11 Thayer
A Patch of Old Snow There's a patch of old snow in a corner That I should have guessed Was a blow-away paper the rain Had brought to rest. It is speckled with grime as if Small print overspread it, The news of a day I've forgotten -- If I ever read it. -Robert Frost
City In the morning the city Spreads its wings Making a song In stone that sings. In the evening the city Goes to bed Hanging lights About its head. -Langston Hughes
Lessie -Eloise Greenfield When my friend Lessie runs she runs so fast I can hardly see her feet touch the ground She runs faster than a leaf flies She pushes her knees up and down, up and down She closes her hands and swings her arms She opens her mouth and tastes the wind Her coat flies out behind her When Lessie runs she runs so fast that Sometimes she falls down But she gets right up and brushes her knees And runs again as fast as she can Past red houses and parked cars and sleeping dogs and cartwheeling girls and wrestling boys and Mr. Taylor s record store All the way to her corner To meet her mama
Oil Slick By Judith Thruman There, by the curb, A leaky truck Has drooled A grease-pool, A black, pearly Slick Which rainbows When the sun Strikes it. I could spend All Day Marbling Its flashy colors With a stick.
In the Garden (Poem 23.) A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew From a convenient grass, And then hopped sidewise to the wall To let a beetle pass. He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all abroad, -- They looked like frightened beads, I thought; He stirred his velvet head Like one in danger; cautious, I offered him a crumb, And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home Than oars divide the ocean, Too silver for a seam, Or butterflies, off banks of noon, Leap, plashless, as they swim Emily Dickinson
Harlem [Dream Deferred] What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode? -Langston Hughes
Four Eyes By Nikki Grimes I used to hate my eyeglasses til Daddy told me they were only two picture frames protecting two perfectly beautiful works of art!
Frogs in the Night Frogs hopping hopping up and down all around. Hear the rabbit at night while my father washes dishes. My sister sits at the table Refusing to eat. And I am happy Listening to that sweet Sound of those few Frogs in the night. -Adam English
Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day: The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play, And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game. A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast; They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat." But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat. But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred, There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat. There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place; There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt; Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt; Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip. And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said. From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore; "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand; And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew; But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!" "Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed. They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again. The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate, He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow. Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light; And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout, But there is no joy in Mudville mighty Casey has struck out.
Cranky Old Man What do you see, nurses?.....what do you see? What are you thinking...... when you re looking at me? A cranky old man,......not very wise, Uncertain of habit........ with faraway eyes? Who dribbles his food......... and makes no reply. When you say in a loud voice...... I do wish you d try! Who seems not to notice.....the things that you do. And forever is losing.......... A sock or shoe? Who, resisting or not............ lets you do as you will, With bathing and feeding......the long day to fill? Is that what you re thinking?...... Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse...... you re not looking at me. I ll tell you who I am....... As I sit here so still, As I do at your bidding,...... as I eat at your will. I m a small child of Ten...... with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters......... who love one another A young boy of Sixteen..... with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now......... a lover he ll meet. A groom soon at Twenty...... my heart gives a leap. Remembering, the vows...... that I promised to keep. At Twenty-Five, now......... I have young of my own. Who need me to guide.... And a secure happy home. A man of Thirty.......... My young now grown fast, Bound to each other...... With ties that should last. At Forty, my young sons...... have grown and are gone, But my woman is beside me...... to see I don t mourn. At Fifty, once more,.......babies play round my knee, Again, we know children....... My loved one and me. Dark days are upon me....... My wife is now dead.
I look at the future............. I shudder with dread. For my young are all rearing...... young of their own. And I think of the years....... And the love that I ve known. I m now an old man......... and nature is cruel. It s jest to make old age....... look like a fool. The body, it crumbles.......... grace and vigor, depart. There is now a stone......... where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass..... A young man still dwells, And now and again........ my battered heart swells I remember the joys............ I remember the pain. And I m loving and living.............. life over again. I think of the years. all too few...... gone too fast. And accept the stark fact........ that nothing can last. So open your eyes, people........ open and see. Not a cranky old man. Look closer.... see....... ME!!
Song - by Ashley Bryan Sing to the sun It will listen And warm your words Your joy will rise Like the sun And glow Within you Sing to the moon It will hear And soothe your cares Your fears will set Like the moon And fade Within you
Riding the Night Train by
I Dream A World By Langston Hughes 1 I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth 4 And peace its paths adorn. I dream a world where all Will know sweet freedom s way, Where greed no longer saps the soul 8 Nor avarice blights our day. A world I dream where black or white, Whatever race you be, Will share the bounties of the earth 12 And every man is free, Where wretchedness will hang its head And joy, like a pearl, Attends the needs of all mankind 16 Of such I dream, my world!
OUTCOME ASSESSMENT POEM: Night Sounds In the street sounds of wheels humming, sounds of heels drumming. Humming and drumming, Keeping me from sleeping. In the house sounds of words mumbling, overhead grumbling. Mumbling and grumbling, Keeping me unsleeping. Far away sounds of waves lashing, quietly crashing. Lashing and crashing Sweeping me to sleep. -Felice Holman