Welcome to the Popcorn Picture Show!
Thank you to everyone involved. We hope you had fun! Check out all of the submissions below.
Kindergarten to Grade Three
Flying High
Anytime I want to fly
I climb a ladder up the sky,
Hop on a cloud as white as snow
And off I go!
There isn’t any steering wheel.
My cloud goes anywhere I feel:
Over the mountains, out to sea –
It’s up to me.
Below the people look like bugs;
Farmer’s fields like dusty rugs.
Miles above the lakes and trees,
I ride the breeze.
Now and then some birds fly by,
Amazed to see me up so high.
I wave at them and say, “Nice day.”
Then float away.
At suppertime they call for me.
So I tie my cloud to an apple tree.
Pick an apple for my mum
And down I come.
If Icicles Were Popsicles
If icicles were popsicles
I’d like the winter more.
If all that snow was ice cream
I’d rush out my front door.
If frost was sweet as sugar
I’d lick each window clear;
But snow and ice are not that nice
I wish that spring was here.
Tricks
Jennifer James
Is training her dog:
She tells him to sit
And he rolls like a log.
She asks him to speak,
He spins in a whirl.
She tells him to heel,
He chases a squirrel.
She says, “Shake a paw!”
He stands on his head.
She calls out, “Go fetch!”
He barks and plays dead.
So many tricks
Her doggy can do,
And it’s easy to see
Just who’s tricking who.
Grades Four to Six
Monkey’s Uncle
If I were a monkey’s uncle
Then I’d be a monkey too.
I’d hang out in the jungle
And do what monkeys do.
If I were a monkey’s uncle,
I’d swing in a monkey tree
With all the screeching creatures
In my monkey family.
We’d gulp banana pizza
And slurp banana tea.
If I were a monkey’s uncle
Would you monkey around with me?
If I were a monkey’s uncle
I’d have a hairy face,
A hairy back, a hairy bum –
Hairy every place.
If I were a monkey’s uncle
I’d travel round in style,
Lounging in a lawn chair
On the back of a crocodile.
I’d scratch my hairy belly
And babble “Boo-Ga-Boo!”
If I were a monkey’s uncle
Could I monkey around with you?
Grades Seven to Eight
Oddball Hall
Behind a crumbling, tumbling wall,
You’ll find a place called Oddball Hall.
Floors are warped, the chimney tilts.
The basement walks around on stilts.
Door bells pop, toasters chime.
The clocks tell jokes, but won’t tell time.
The stairs go up, but won’t come down.
The mirrors wink when you turn around.
The upstairs maid has itchy feet.
She scratches her toes with a sugar beet.
And every day at half past noon
She flies a kite in the drawing room.
The Lord and Master of the Hall
Lost his pants at the shopping mall.
So wearing just a shirt and socks,
He bakes key cookies for the locks,
Then reads Spinoza to the cat
While hanging face-down like a bat.
His wife is skinny as a broom.
She keeps a zebra in her room.
The zebra’s name is Eat at Joe’s.
It speaks Swahili through his nose.
Out in the garden there’s a tree
Where herons come each day for tea.
They skewer pastries with their beaks
While gossiping in squawks and squeaks.
The pool is great for cooling down
Although the water’s muddy brown
It’s really hard to do the crawl
With Hippos packed in wall to wall.
They’re downright daffy, one and all
That’s why they call it Oddball Hall.
Zombies in my Classroom
The zombies in my classroom
Got crazier each day
My teacher tried to calm them down.
They ate him yesterday.
The principal was summoned
To give them a talking to.
She told them all to smarten up.
Of course they ate her too.
Police responded quickly
To the nine-eleven call.
The zombies mobbed and ate the cops,
Handcuffs, guns and all.
The army general told us
These zombies can be beaten.
Then ten platoons of servicemen
Were cornered, swarmed and eaten.
It took my skinny granny
With her Sheltie by her side,
To stop this stuff and nonsense
And turn the zombie tide.
She used an incantation:
“This simply will not do!”
The zombies looked embarrassed
And stared down at their shoes.
My granny told the zombies,
“This stops and stops right now!
Such rude, uncouth behaviour,
I simply won’t allow.”
When Granny makes her mind up,
The whole thing’s said and done.
The zombies got the message
And scattered one by one.
They went back to the graveyard
And lay down quietly;
While Granny and her Sheltie
Walked home for treats and tea.
The Nervous Mountain Climber
In the middle of The Prairies
Where no mountains are in sight
Lives a nervous mountain climber
Who is not too big on heights.
Gazing at the grasslands,
He’ll tell you with a sigh:
“My big complaint with mountains
Is they make them much too high!
“It’s not that I’m a coward.
Now, don’t go thinking that!
Mountains wouldn’t bother me
If they were soft and flat.
“If mountains were like meadows
I’d grab my climbing gear
And clamber through the daisies
Without the slightest fear.
“But mountains rise so steeply;
You can plummet if you slip.
There’s never any staircase
Or a handrail you can grip.
“I’m not afraid of climbing;
It’s the thought of falling down.
That’s why I’d like a mountain
That’s closer to the ground.
“A little baby mountain–
Two-feet high or so–
That doesn’t make me dizzy
When I take a peek below.”
In the middle of the prairies
The world is wide and flat;
And the nervous mountain climber
Prefers it just like that.
More submissions to come…