These are the hands that wave

These are the hands that clap

These are the hands that pray

These are the hands that tap

These are the hands that grip

These are the hands that write

These are the hands that paint

These are the hands that fight

These are the hands that hug

These are the hands that squeeze

These are the hands that point

These are the hands that tease

These are the hands that fix

These are the hands that mend

These are the hands that give

These are the hands that lend

These are the hands that take

These are the hands that poke

These are the hands that heal

These are the hands that stroke

These are the hands that hold

These are the hands that love

These are the hands of mine

That fit me like a glove.

Week 3 : Sounds by Stewart Henderson

Crunching ginger biscuits

is like hearing soldiers tread

marching over gravel

on the inside of your head.

Chewing a marshmallow

is nowhere near as loud.

It’s the smaller, sweet equivalent

of swallowing a cloud.

Week Two:   A Smile by Jez Alborough

Smiling is infectious

You catch it like the flu.

When someone smiled at me today

I started smiling too.

I passed around the corner

And someone saw my grin.

When he smiled, I realised

I’d passed it on to him.

I thought about my smile and then

I realised its worth.

A single smile like mine could travel

Right around the earth.

If you feel a smile begin

Don’t leave it undetected.

Let’s start an epidemic quick

And get the world infected.

Week One : Mirror Friends  by Jamila Gavin

When we look in the mirror,

Me and my friend,

I am brown and she is white.

When we look in the mirror,

Me and my friend,

My hair is dark and hers is light.

And my eyes are black as a raven’s wing,

And hers are as blue as a sapphire ring.

She likes chips

And I like rice,

She likes ketchup

And I like spice.

But when we look in the mirror,

Me and my friend

We feel we are the same as same can be,

Though I am brown and she is white,

We could be sisters,

She and me.