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.