Grandma, we love you!

Our starter word this week was “grandparents” which generated some interesting perceptions of the older generation!

Our grandparents like cats, whisky, sherry and wine and are addicted to coffee. They are kind, comforting and smart. They also have bad music taste and a blunt sense of humour, but they can be uplifting, spoiling, graceful and generous.

I offered John Foster’s poem Grandma as a model:

Grandma is navy blue.
She is a comfy cushion.
Grandma is a soft whisper.
She is a path through a winter wood.
Grandma is a warm scarf.
She is a cup of tea by the fire.
Grandma is a sleeping cat.
She is autumn sunshine.

Following the poem, I suggested the children compare a special person (or pet) to a colour, piece of furniture, a sound, a place, an item of clothing, food or drink, an animal, and a form of weather.

Here are some of the results:

Custard Bunny is as gold as honey
and as fluffy as a duvet,
as soft as a whisper.
She has some friends, one a cat.
She is a bit freaked out by bats!

Hunter is…
Hunter is a bundle of fluff.
He is a soft blanket.
Hunter is a playful woof.
He is a dark forest.
Hunter is a winter fleece.
He is a sleek tiger.
Hunter is a comfy cushion.
He is a daylight beam.

Grandma’s kind so she’s pink.
She’s soft so she is a cushion.
Grandma’s got a comforting voice.
She is lively like the Autumn leaves.
Grandma’s warm like a blanket.
She’s sweet like cake.
Grandma’s a calm cat.
She is the bright shining sun.

Toulouse is a bundle of fluff.
He is a warm cosy duvet.
Toulouse is a cuddly teddy bear.
He is a cloud on a summer’s day.
It’s like being wrapped up in a blanket.
Toulouse is like drinking a big bottle of Lucozade.
But he is also like a big tiger hunting its prey.
Toulouse is a sunny day in summer.

My grandma is yellow – as bright as the sun.
She is comfy as velvet – all day long.
Grandma is a soft warm cover – not as warm as my annoying brother!

Grand people
Grand people are old and senile
They never remember what I say
Their clothing is old and grey
Their pets always trip visitors up
and always go astray.
They have tons of antique trophies
They are dull and dusty in the cabinet.
They yabber on for hours on end
and I never bother to listen.
They take me out to Harrods
when all I need is sweets.
The spare bedroom in her home
is dusty, musty and hot.
But one day, I looked out of the window
on a warm summer’s morning.
All my oldies were gathered outside
and cried: “come,
let’s go on a motorbike ride!”
I leant out of the window
Happily obliged.
We rode to London and
Swansea and Fife.
Then we went to the doughnut bar
and had a sugar rush all night.
So maybe I was wrong
I thought to myself
as I lay in bed the next morning.
What an unexpected turn of events.
My oldies are fun!


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