FATHERS DAY 16TH JUNE
SEND YOUR POETRY IN BEFORE THE 15TH JUNE
1 Paint eggs. Armed with a colouring set, box of eggs, and newspaper spread over the kitchen table, you can keep kids quiet for hours. House of Fraser stocks an egg slicer (£5) with a handy “spike” to help at the hollowing-out stage.
2 Learn about chocolate. The eggheads at London’s Natural History Museum are giving a fun, free talk on everyone’s favourite Easter treat tomorrow. Cromwell Road, London SW7, 020 7942 5792,
3 Go to a Punch and Judy show. The 30-minute shows run from today to Easter Monday at the Pleasure Gardens at Blenheim Palace (Woodstock, Oxfordshire.
4 Throw a doll’s tea party. Serve tiny food – mini eggs will be popular – in a doll’s tea service, sandwiches cut into shapes with cookie cutters, and you’ll keep a roomful of little girls happy.
5 Build an indoor den. Blankets draped over furniture will do for younger children. Older ones might prefer to convert the cupboard under the stairs.
6 Introduce them to karaoke. Give kids a microphone and tell them to rehearse their favourite songs for a Eurovision-style performance. Retreat out of earshot. For those with a games console, invest in SingStar, which comes with two microphones and various tracks (£49.99 from music stores nationwide).
7 Play party games. There’s no reason why musical statues, musical chairs and blind man’s bluff should only be trotted out at children’s parties.
8 Do experiments. Kitchen-table science is educational as well as entertaining. Baking soda, vinegar and food colouring are the key ingredients to create a foaming lava from a worktop volcano.
9 Put on an Easter play. Assign roles, invite your oldest to oversee action sequences, and leave room for the others to improvise.
10 Get cooking. Children love spending quality time in the kitchen. Teach them – or learn yourself – how to make hot cross buns.
I want one so bad I begin to itch
But the more I have the more I get a stitch,
When I have one I feel satisfied
But the more I have the more I might die,
The one after tea is definitely the best
But the more I have,the more pains in my chest,
I used to run,I used to be fit
I need to cut down or definitely quit,
From freshness to blackness I can’t understand
My body was good,but now it is bad
All of them kill,no matter the brand,
You can kick it,yes you can,
Put it out before you choke
Trust me mate, please don’t smoke
By Christopher Wolvett
Once there was a snowman
Stood outside the door
Thought he’d like to come inside
And run around the floor;
Thought he’d like to warm himself
By the firelight red;
Thought he’d like to climb up
On that big white bed.
So he called the North Wind,
“Help me now I pray.
I’m completely frozen,
Standing here all day.”
So the North Wind came along
And blew him in the door,
And now there’s nothing left of him
But a puddle on the floor!
My Snowman has a Noble Head
My snowman has a noble head,
he’s broader than he’s tall,
his ears are tin, his eyes are coal,
he has no neck at all.
Beneath his ragged hat he wears
a wig of tangled wool,
his barrel chest is buttoned up,
his belly’s rather full.
My snowman has a handsome face
complete with carrot nose,
his arms are long, his legs are short,
he hasn’t any toes.
He wields a broom, he puffs a pipe,
his smile is wide and bright,
“He looks like me!” my father says,
you know . . . he may be right!
Helen H. Moore
Thick and fast,
Build a snowman
Make him last . . .
My snowman melted –
Where’d he go?
Peter, the Snowman
Winifred C. Marshall
It would not seem like winter,
Without a snowman tall;
I’ve worked on one all morning,
With Ted and little Paul.
This is a jolly snowman,
With such a friendly smile,
We’ll ask you out to meet him,
In just a little while.
His hat belongs to Daddy,
His button eyes are blue,
His bright red scarf and mittens
Were knit by Cousin Sue.
We’re going to call him Peter,
We’d like to have him stay,
But sometime when we’re all at school,
He’s sure to slip away.
See the snowman
all in white –
as soft snow
on this cool
long frosty night.
Crystal flakes spin
round and fall,
Still he’ll stand
Nancy Dingman Watson
Snow woman, snow woman,
What do you know?
You sit so still
And silent in the snow.
Snow woman, snow woman,
Do you like your hat?
You sit so quiet
And comfortable and fat.
Snow woman, snow woman,
Do you like your clothes?
Your apron and your mittens
And your big carrot nose?
Snow woman, snow woman,
Sitting in the night
Does the dark scare you
Or the cold moonlight?
Snow woman, snow woman,
Here comes the sun
Are you afraid of melting
And being all done?
My Snowman Friend
I call him Mr. Frosty-Face!
He brings us so much fun,
With black coal eyes, and a carrot nose,
With a smile for everyone!
If we play Ring-a-Roses,
Then all our friends join in!
But, when the game is “Statues”,
He always knows he’ll win!
When I talk, I know he’ll listen
To every word I say.
I can shout, or knock his hat off,
And he’ll never run away!
But, when the weather’s warmer,
Then Frosty-Face must go –
Until the next time that he comes
With winter’s ice and snow.
Father’s Day is an important day world wide. It is a fine opportunity to honor the Dad’s or Father’s of the world.
In Australia, Father’s Day is celebrated on the First Sunday in September.
Father’s Day in Canada, is celebrated on the third Sunday in June.
In the U.K. Father’s Day is celebrated on the third Sunday in June.
In the United States it is celebrated on the third Sunday in June.
Many Catholics call St. Joseph’s Day, on March 19th, Father’s Day because Joseph was the father of Jesus.
Another tradition of Father’s Day is that of the Flowers, Red roses are worn on Father’s Day to signify that one’s father is living. White roses mean one’s father has died.
A little leprechaun sat pondering
Saint Patrick’s Day was fast approaching
For he wanted to learn to sing
But his voice needed coaching
So he went to see his friend Mick
Who’s voice was so sweet and true
I want to sing like an angel
Would you tell me what to do?
Let me hear you sing said Mick
His voice brought Mick to tears
The sound of his voice was so terrible
Mick stood with his hands over his ears
Mick was not put off by his voice
Placing the leprechaun inside a fairy ring
Did a jig of magical mystery
To enable the leprechaun to sing
Then the leprechaun was happy
Thanking Mick, he went on his way
For now, he had a beautiful voice
For him to sing on Saint Patrick’s Day
Tick-tock the wife collects clocks
They cover the walls
There is even one in the hall,
And in the living room
Some are small and some are tall,
She even bought one off an old bloke
Who lives down the road,
But one or two of them are broke
Now she’s bought a Cuckoo clock
But that’s the only one
That does not go tick tock,
Some clocks chime like a little rhyme
But not one will tell me the right time
DID YOU FORGET TO PUT YOUR CLOCK BACK
The Story of Burns Night
On or around January 25, his believed birthday, the life and work of Scottish poet Rabbie Burns is celebrated with a ritual of food, drink and poetry.
The Burns’ Supper was started by friends of Burns, a few years after his death in 1796, as a tribute to his memory, but it has also become a celebration of Scottishness, and, increasingly in Northern Ireland, America, and Canada of Scottish ancestry. It is important to note that Burns was also a Freemason and many of these celebrations are open to the public locally at Masonic Lodges.
Wherever you are, and however Scottish you are, you can join in with our recipes for the supper and a selection of the great man’s poems and songs.
Northern Ireland has its own tradition of poets in the Burns’ style, the weaver poets of Antrim and Down.
Who Was “Rabbie” Burns?
Born on 25th January 1759, in the parish of Alloway, Ayrshire, Burns was the eldest of seven children to William Burness and Agnes Brown (or Broun). Well educated in a variety of subjects, from Scottish history and folklore to literature, Burns was forced to assist his father in working on the family farm, and took over at 25 when his father died in 1784.
By 28, Burns was beginning to be well known in his literary career; In 1786 he published “Poems: Chiefly in Scottish Dialect”, which was expanded in 1787 and again in 1793 (Ibid.). Beginning in 1786, Burns would spend much time in Edinburgh among the elite and intellectuals of Scottish society, although Burns felt that they were only patronizing him because his soul of literary genius lied within the body of a country bumpkin. He returned to Ayrshire and unsuccessfully tried farming; in 1791 he became an exciseman, or customs agent, and joined the local yeomanry unit, the Dumfriesshire Volunteers. However, the physical and mental toll of his hard life, plus growing financial burdens, weakened him, and in 1796, Burns died of rheumatic heart disease, caused by his lack of a healthy diet in his younger years.
However, physical and financial matters were not the only things that troubled Robert; The Kirk of Scotland (The Presbyterian Church) and it’s opposition to his lifestyle was another. In particular, Burns’s sexual escapades caused much hostility between him and the church. Burns fathered a number of illegitimate children, including one by his future wife, Jean Armour, the daughter of a Master Mason. Burns wanted to marry Jean; her father refused and Burns and Jean appeared for penance in church to “receive public reproof for the sin of fornication” Burns would continue his rampant sexual activities right up until several years before his death. He never stopped his literary war against Scottish Calvinism, and lampooned it in a number of poems, including “Holy Willie’s Prayer”, “The Holy Fair”, and others.
Besides his rather libertine actions with women, Burns was also a political radical, and a rather strange mix at that. From reading Scottish history, Burns became an ardent nationalist, writing many romantic ballads about Scottish attempts to secure their independence from the English, from Robert the Bruce to Bonny Prince Charlie. This can be seen in poems like “Scots wha Hae”, “Charlie is My Darling”, “The White Cockade”, and many others.
Burns combined his Jacobite sympathies of the past with Jacobin politics of the present. He vocally supported the French and American Revolutions, which aroused suspicion of his loyalties, especially when in the service of His Majesty’s government as an exciseman, although Burns did recant his French tendencies when Britain and France went to war in 1792 . And while Burns may have been inspired by the French Revolution, his involvement in Freemasonry certainly played a large part in his opinions in favour of both secular and religious equity
He was only 37 when he died of heart disease but in that last year of his life he had written some of his most-respected works, such as The Lea Rig, Tam O’Shanter and O, My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose.
When the children have finished play
They suddenly remember its Pancake day
Inside they run to see all the treats
That will surround their Pancake feast,
Jams fruit and cream a Pancake dream
The children lick their lips
Whilst mum masters the mixture and whips,
All the magic ingredients together
To produce batter as light as a feather
patiently the children wait,
Whilst mother designs and creates
This scrumptious feast
That will knock them off their feet
Once the Pancakes have reached their plates
She relishes in their happy faces
Their eyes light up with such joy
Like Christmas all over when opening their toys.
By Gillian Sims
The children all look forward
To the tradition of Pancake Day
Whilst mother cooked the pancakes
The children went outside to play
The smell of the pancakes cooking
Creating an hypnotic aroma in the air
Children just like a magnet
Drawn inside, just to stop and stare
They stood watching their Mother
Tossing the pancake with glee
Children shouting.” Please don’t drop it”
Landing safely back in pan for all to see
Out came the oranges and lemons
Making them delicious to eat
Children tucking into the pancakes
Everyone enjoyed that pancake treat.