Grade 5 Mentor Poems

Please note that these mentor poems were selected to support the teaching points of
the curriculum and they are suggestions for your use. The more you can use only a few
poems and reread them showing different teaching points, the better your students will
understand the poems and meet the CCLS.

The poem Night Sounds by Felice Holman should NOT be used as a mentor text; it is
intended for each of the Outcome Assessments.

Poem Suggested Teaching Point

A Patch of Old Snow by Robert Frost 3.1,3.2
Oil Slick By Judith Thruman/A Patch of 3.3a, 3.3b
Old Snow
In The Garden by Emily Dickenson 3.3b
Frogs at Night/ Cranky Old Man 3.4
Figurative Language Poems -see 3.5
curriculum page resources listed for 4.5
Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence 3.6
Thayer
Harlem [Dreams Deferred] by 3.7
Langston Hughes
A Patch of Old Snow or any poem in 3.8
the collection in which the structural
elements are discussed
A Patch of Old Snow 3.9
Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence 3.10/3.11
Thayer
A Patch of Old Snow
There's a patch of old snow in a corner
That I should have guessed
Was a blow-away paper the rain
Had brought to rest.

It is speckled with grime as if

Small print overspread it,
The news of a day I've forgotten --
If I ever read it.

-Robert Frost
City
In the morning the city
Spreads its wings
Making a song
In stone that sings.
In the evening the city
Goes to bed
Hanging lights
About its head.
-Langston Hughes
Lessie

-Eloise Greenfield
When my friend Lessie runs she runs so fast

I can hardly see her feet touch the ground

She runs faster than a leaf flies

She pushes her knees up and down, up and down

She closes her hands and swings her arms

She opens her mouth and tastes the wind

Her coat flies out behind her

When Lessie runs she runs so fast that

Sometimes she falls down

But she gets right up and brushes her knees

And runs again as fast as she can

Past red houses

and parked cars

and sleeping dogs

and cartwheeling girls

and wrestling boys

and Mr. Taylors record store

All the way to her corner

To meet her mama

Oil Slick
By Judith Thruman

There, by the curb,

A leaky truck

Has drooled

A grease-pool,

A black, pearly

Slick

Which rainbows

When the sun

Strikes it.

I could spend

All Day

Marbling

Its flashy colors

With a stick.
In the Garden (Poem 23.)
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

And then he drank a dew

From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.

He glanced with rapid eyes

That hurried all abroad, --
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,

I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,

Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, plashless, as they swim

Emily Dickinson
Harlem [Dream Deferred]
What happens to a dream
deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?
-Langston Hughes
 Four Eyes
By Nikki Grimes

I used to hate

my eyeglasses

til Daddy told me

they were only

two picture frames

protecting two

perfectly beautiful

works of art!
 Frogs in the Night

Frogs hopping hopping up and

down all around. Hear the rabbit at

night while my father

washes dishes.

My sister sits at the table

Refusing to eat.

And I am happy

Listening to that sweet

Sound of those few

Frogs in the night.

-Adam English
 Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest

Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,

And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,

And Blake, the much despisd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;

There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;

He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"

But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudvillemighty Casey has struck out.
Cranky Old Man

What do you see, nurses? . . . . .What do you see?

What are you thinking .. . . . . when youre looking at me?

A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,

Uncertain of habit . . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food .. . .. . . . . and makes no reply.

When you say in a loud voice . . . . .. I do wish youd try!

Who seems not to notice . . . . .the things that you do.

And forever is losing . . . . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not .. . . . . . . . . . . lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding . . . . . .The long day to fill?

Is that what youre thinking? . . . . . . Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . . youre not looking at me.

Ill tell you who I am . . . . . . . As I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, . . . . . . as I eat at your will.

Im a small child of Ten . . . . . . with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters .. . . . . . . . who love one another

A young boy of Sixteen . . . . . with wings on his feet

Dreaming that soon now . . . . .. .. . a lover hell meet.

A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . . my heart gives a leap.

Remembering, the vows . . . . . . that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . . . . . I have young of my own.

Who need me to guide . . . . And a secure happy home.

A man of Thirty . . . . . . . . .. My young now grown fast,

Bound to each other . . . . . . With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons .. . . . . have grown and are gone,

But my woman is beside me . . . . . . to see I dont mourn.

At Fifty, once more, . . . . . ..Babies play round my knee,

Again, we know children . . . . . . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me . . . . . . . My wife is now dead.

I look at the future . . . . . . . . . . . . . I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing . . . . . . young of their own.

And I think of the years . . .. . . . And the love that Ive known.

Im now an old man . . . . . . . . . and nature is cruel.

Its jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles .. . . . . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.

There is now a stone .. . . . . .. . where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . . .. A young man still dwells,

And now and again . . . .. . . . my battered heart swells

I remember the joys . .. . . . . . . .. . I remember the pain.

And Im loving and living . . . . .. . . . . . . . . life over again.

I think of the years . all too few . . . . . . gone too fast.

And accept the stark fact . . . . . . . . that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people . . . . . . . . open and see.

Not a cranky old man . Look closer . . . . see . . . . . . . ME!!

Song - by Ashley Bryan

Sing to the sun

It will listen

And warm your words

Your joy will rise

Like the sun

And glow

Within you

Sing to the moon

It will hear

And soothe your cares

Your fears will set

Like the moon

And fade

Within you
Riding the Night Train by ______________
 I Dream A World
By Langston Hughes

1 I dream a world where man

No other man will scorn,

Where love will bless the earth

4 And peace its paths adorn.

I dream a world where all

Will know sweet freedoms way,

Where greed no longer saps the soul

8 Nor avarice blights our day.

A world I dream where black or white,

Whatever race you be,

Will share the bounties of the earth

12 And every man is free,

Where wretchedness will hang its head

And joy, like a pearl,

Attends the needs of all mankind

16 Of such I dream, my world!

OUTCOME ASSESSMENT POEM:

Night Sounds
In the street

sounds of wheels humming,

sounds of heels drumming.

Humming and drumming,

Keeping me from sleeping.

In the house

sounds of words mumbling,

overhead grumbling.

Mumbling and grumbling,

Keeping me unsleeping.

Far away

sounds of waves lashing,

quietly crashing.

Lashing and crashing

Sweeping me to sleep.

-Felice Holman