6th class poems about inanimate objects

The boys in 6th class were set the task of writing their own poems from the point of view of an inanimate object. Here is a selection of our work. We hope you enjoy them!

The fried frying pan by A. O’C.

Oh how it hurts my face

When I get swished and swooshed on the fire

Sometimes the cook burns my base

And you can hear me sizzling higher and higher

In the morning when they heat me up

They put in beans from a can, mushrooms, eggs, salt, pepper and ham

Oh how I wish I wasn’t a frying pan!

 

Life in a frame by C. S.

I’m a picture depicting a farmland

Many people come to look at me

And I wonder what they think when they stop and stare

But most of them probably don’t care

At night I relax in my frame

Most of the other paintings have gone and came

I am housed in a gallery

And I have been moved from many places

And I have seen many faces

 

Me and my bike by M. C.

Let’s go! I want to ride!

With Tess the dog at our side!

My wheels will hum

My gears click

Down the hill

The road is slick

My brakes are stuck

Here comes a truck

We’re in the ditch –

A minor glitch!

 

The sacrifice of a soldier by H. O’C.

War, war never changes

I am a sausage –

I was born a sausage and I will die a sausage

Well sausages don’t die, they are just missing in action

Yes I am a sausage.

I was born in the year 1868

With my brothers and sisters

In our great packet named The Black Flag

Today is my big day

I am leaving the cold door

To die honourably

Hey what are you doing? All of us?

What are you doing? It’s hot in here

Hot, hot, hot

Argh! Mr. Rasher!

No, Mr. Rasher!

No, no, no

Argh! Help! Nooo!

Not the fork!!!!

 

The pencil case by D. B.

I sit there on the table

Watching the world go by

My pens and rubbers moving

Wishing they could fly

My owner’s Daragh Boland

I love him very much

He’s gentle to me

So I don’t feel pain as such

I am only awake

For 6 hours of the day

The rest I’m asleep in the bag

Zipped and snoring away

 

The raindrop by J. M.

A raindrop is like a sudden knock at the door

Unexpected, yet often welcomed with a smile

It can brighten your day or ruin your plans

It can make you laugh or make you sad

Whatever the raindrop is moving – fast or slow

Or is big or small

It always gets everyone’s attention

A raindrop contains many secrets

It’s a bubble of anticipation and surprise

It cleanses the earth, feeds the flowers and fills the holes

The raindrop is never silent

It bangs on the roof

Splatters on the window

Or splashes into a puddle

Gallery | This entry was posted in Literacy, poetry, sixth class, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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