It's a book for English teachers of all stripes, but especially homeschoolers, about how to teach writing. Here's one suggestion from the book: if you can figure out ways get you children and students to start writing, then you will have something to edit. If they enjoy the exercises they are more likely to produce copy (words on paper) that you can then use to praise while also correcting.
One assignment I gave my kids was for them to describe a room in our house, but from the point of view of being one inch tall. The whimsical Shel Silvertsein poem below might have been his solution to such an assignment.
One Inch Tall
One assignment I gave my kids was for them to describe a room in our house, but from the point of view of being one inch tall. The whimsical Shel Silvertsein poem below might have been his solution to such an assignment.
One Inch Tall
If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.
If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You'd swing upon a spider's thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.
You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.
You'd run from people's feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write--
'Cause I'm just one inch tall).
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.
If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You'd swing upon a spider's thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.
You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.
You'd run from people's feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write--
'Cause I'm just one inch tall).
Shel Silverstein
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