Transcript

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Let's have some fun 

with things that rhyme

welcome Kids 

it's poetry time!

Hip Hip Hurray!

Welcome everyone to Kids’ Poetry Club with me, Little Dazzy Donuts. I’m here at the Club having read through the latest entries for the Summer competition on the topic of home. We’ve received some wonderful poems from around the world, and I’ve selected a few to play for Queenie and Chicken when they return from their walk. They left a few hours ago to wander around the nearby villages and country roads, and they should be back soon. I have a pot of tea here for them, and the poems are lined up ready to play. Oh, I think I hear them coming now.

SOUND (Door)

Hi Queenie … Hi Chicken … welcome back

Queenie: Hi Little Dazzy Donuts.

Oh my gosh, Queenie – are you two okay? You look like you’ve been in an accident.

Queenie: Ha! No – we’re fine. You’re right though – it does look like we’re injured … but we’re not. Look … this is all raspberry juice.

That’s a relief – it is. You’re covered in it … it’s spread around your face, on your hands, and all over your shirt too … and you don’t look any better, Chicken. What have you two been up to?

Queenie: Check this out … look, we’ve come back with boxes of raspberries. Don’t they look amazing. These are fresh off the bushes. Now, I will admit that we had more raspberries at one point, but we were eating them as we walked, and it’s surprising just how many we got through. That said, there’s a lot still to be eaten.

So, where did you get all of these from?

Queenie: Well, we were walking around the country lanes, and we came across this fruit farm that had a big sign outside that said, “Pick Your Own Fruit.” That made us pause for a while as we didn’t have any fruit of our own to pick, and so we couldn’t do what the sign told us to do. As you know, we’ve planted a few fruit trees in the garden, but we won’t get any fruit from those for a few years. So, we popped into the farm and told them that we couldn’t pick our own fruit.

I’m guessing they were a bit surprised by that. So, what did they say?

Queenie: They laughed. You know what … I think they thought we were joking … but we weren’t. Anyway, they said that we could pick their fruit instead, and so we did.

Well, Queenie, I think that’s what the sign was trying to say to you.

Queenie: Ummm …. I don’t think so. If they’d meant that, they’d have put a sign up saying “Pick Our Fruit”. Anyway, it all turned out okay as they had rows and rows of really ripe raspberries and big buckets to put them into. So, I picked and Chicken pecked … for a long time. Here, try a few – they’re so juicy and yummy.

Oh, they are … they’re really tasty. So, what are you planning on doing with them all?

Queenie: Well, we talked about that on the way home, and decided that we’d make some raspberry jam. I’ve never made jam before … but I bet I could figure it out. How difficult could it be? It’s probably just raspberries and jam mixed together.

Well, before you make your jam, how about you have a nice cup of tea and listen to a couple of poems? Here, I’ll pour a cup for you.

Queenie: Oh, that sounds lovely. Come on, Chicken … let’s sit back, put our feet up, drink some tea, and listen to a poem. We can then figure out how to make raspberry jam.

That sounds like a great idea … well the first poem is from Cesca in England, and is called Home. Here, let me play the poem for you now.

Cesca: Old home, New home, Big home, Small home, Short home, Tall home. Home is the strangest thing of all, It doesn’t matter if it’s big or small, Only if you can call, A house a home, That’s all. Dirty home, Clean home, Messy home, Neat home, Wooden home, Brick home. Home is the strangest thing of all, It doesn’t matter if it’s big or small, Only if you can call, A house a home, That’s all. Loud home, Quiet home, Relaxed home, Tense home, Warm home, Cold home. Home is the strangest thing of all, It doesn’t matter if it’s big or small, Only if you can call, A house a home, That’s all.

A big THANK YOU, Cesca, for your poem. You’ve done a great job of capturing that houses come in many forms, and what truly matters is whether a house is a home. Thank you so much for writing and recording your poem for us.

Queenie: Oh, I do like Cesca’s poem, Little Dazzy Donuts. You know what, I bet it would be possible to write music for that poem, and to turn Cesca’s words into the lyrics of a song. Perhaps I’ll try that after I’ve made my jam. 

Okay then, Queenie … would you like to hear more poems?

Queenie: I definitely do  … but could I first get started on the jam? I want to make sure we have enough time to make it and let it cool, so I better not sit here dunking biccies for much longer. That said, I don’t actually know how to make jam … but I bet that Chef Katue Currant does. She’s helped me so much lately with my rhubarb pie, and also with my hedgehog cake. She’s sure to know how to make jam. Could we call her up quickly to ask her for a recipe, and then we can listen to some more poems?

Of course, Queenie … let’s dial the number now.

SOUND (Phone)

Katie: Hi, this is Chef Katie Current.

Queenie: Hi, Chef Katie … it’s Queenie.

Katie: Oh, hi Queenie … how great to hear from you. How did you get on with the hedgehog cake the other week?

Queenie: Well … it went fine. On reflection, it’s possible that I may have misheard some of the recipe. My cake included a bath sponge and two tennis balls, and that didn’t seem right. Still, I took them out before eating the cake, and the rest of it was so chocolatey and yummy. Actually, I’m calling today because I need help with another recipe.

Katie: Of course. I’m always happy to help. What do you want to make?

Queenie: I just got back from picking fruit, and I now have lots of raspberries. So, I wanted to make raspberry jam. Do you happen to have a recipe I could use?

Katie: Yes, I do, Queenie … although I only have a few minutes. I’m making some souffles, and I have to take them out of the oven in a couple of minutes, but that should be enough time to tell you how to make raspberry jam. Do you have a pen and paper ready to write it down?

Queenie: Yes - I have them here ready, Chef Katie. Now, could you talk me through the recipe in nice short steps?

Katie: So, first, make sure that your jam jars are sterilized and clean. Then, find a large saucepan – something like a widemouth preserving pan if you have one. Now, it can help to mash your raspberries, then put your mashed raspberries together with the sugar on a low heat. Stir it every so often so that the sugar dissolves. You don’t want it melting and sticking to the pan.

Queenie: Okay, that was a lot in the first step. Let me write all of that down, Chef Katie. So, I need clean jars … and I need to keep my mouth wide open. Oh gosh, why do I need to have my mouth open while I do this? Ummm … and I need to stir, and I need to add some mash with my raspberries. Gosh, who knew there were potatoes in raspberry jam.

Katie: Now, you want to bring the fruit mixture to a rapid rolling boil. You’ll know that you have that because the mixture will continue to bubble even when you stir it with your spoon. Keep it boiling for 3-5 minutes before you test to see if it has reached its setting point – that’s when the jam starts to thicken.

Queenie: Okay … so I’m stirring. I definitely heard stirring. And something is rolling too … I’m rolling and stirring? And then things are going to thicken. Gosh, this is far more complicated than I realized. So, do I still need to keep my mouth open or can I close it by this point?

Katie: Then, ladle the jam into your sterilized jars, and put the lids on. Those lids should seal themselves as the jam cools. Oh my, that’s the timer for my souffles. I have to dash, Queenie. Sorry! Good luck with your jam.

Queenie: Hang on, Chef Katie … what was that about seals? I use seals to put the lids on the jars? But I don’t know any seals! Chef Katie!!! Chef Katie???? Oh no – she’s gone.

Well, Queenie – do you feel ready to make your rasberry jam?

Queenie: Ummm … I think so. I’ve written down everything I heard, and so it should turn out okay. There are a few surprises in the recipe, but cooking wouldn’t be cooking without a few surprises. At least there aren’t any tennis balls this time around. Okay, why don’t I start on the jam while you read some more poems?

Wonderful. Well, the next poem comes from Dharshwana in South Korea. The poem is called “Memories”, and is about what it’s like to move home. Here, I’ll play it for you now.

Dharshwana: As I drive out for the last time, I glance back at the red roof and the yellow bricks making up home. I remember the days when I fell or stood. The moody and gloomy days, and the sunny bright days. Bitter sweetness thoughts clouded my head. As we made the last turn, onto our new adventure. I unlocked the chain, and went on free.

A big THANK YOU, Dharshwana, for your wonderful poem. It’s a lovely reminder that we have many homes in our lifetime, and each of those creates memories that we then carry with us throughout our life. Thank you so much for writing and recording your poem for us.

So, Queenie … how are things going with the jam?

Queenie: Ummm … okay … I think. I can’t say much as my mouth is wide open. I don’t know why, but I guess that it’s an essential part of the jam making process. Can you read another poem, Little Dazzy Donuts, while I keep stirring?

Of course I can. Well, the next poem is from Naomi in England, with the poem called “Clock”. Let me play the poem for you now.

Naomi: The old family clock, sits in the corner of the living room, with his ancient tick tick tick tick hands

-pulsating- in time with our home’s heart as he sees the mother, the daughter and the grandchild, wring out minutes, from time’s cloth. Tick Tick Tick Tick.  A shining broken face, beaten with age, Tick Tick Tick, his sturdy wooden frame- strong enough to hold up the memories, of the time Tick Tick Tick we were together. And through his wrinkled eyes, he watches us spend his Tick Tick minutes, like treasured pound notes. Soon my great-grandchildren, will have their beautiful moments, regarded by time itself, as he sits in the corner Tick Tick Tick of the living room.

Thank you so much, Naomi. Your poem reminds us of how time moves on – it was here before us, and will carry on after us … and, in your poem, that time is tracked and events watched by a clock that is ever-present in the home. What an interesting thought. Thank you so much for writing and recording your poem for us.

Okay then, Queenie … how’s it going with your jam?

Queenie: Surprisingly well, really. I’ve been rolling and stirring, just like Chef Katie told me to … and the jam has definitely thickened. So I’m about to pour it into my jars so it can cool. I think I need the help of a friendly seal for this – but seeing as there aren’t any seals here at the Club, I’ll just put the lids on myself. Is that okay with you, Little Dazzy Donuts?

It definitely is, Queenie. Okay, while you start filling your jars, and I’ll play our two final poems. They both look at the idea of the oceans and seas being a home. The first comes from Sanoja in India, and is called The Beach. Here, I’ll play the recording for you now.

Sanoja: I was out at the beach, On a dusky sunset, Tired and exhausted, To home, I was about to set. For the last glimpse of the sea, I sat near the tides, With the salty water all over, And sand on all my sides. I started thinking about the ocean, And whatever in it can that can be, All the life that thrives, In the vast and endless sea. To all the living organisms, The sea is home to the big and small, The beauty of the ocean, Has no words to praise at all. The sandy coastlines of joy, Offer sand castles to make, A lovely dusk to enjoy, And dozens of seashells to take. Lost in all the thoughts, I bid a goodbye to the beach, It was pulling me like a magnet, All the way back home till I reach.

Thank you so much, Sanoja. It sounds like you enjoy the beach as much as I do. I love being on the sand, and wading through the sea too – and there is so much life in and around the sea. I really like how you call out all of the living organisms who consider the sea their home. Thank you for writing and recording your poem for us.

Now, our final poem comes in from Ananya in the United States, and is called Home In The Heart. Here’ I’ll play the poem for you now.

Ananya: Birds soar to the trees, eager to go home. Foxes race to their caves, ready to lay in slumber. Polar bears prowl to their den, ready to sleep away. Beavers crawl to their dam, ready to rest their weary paws. Squirrels scurry to their hollow, ready to dream through the night. All living things, keep home in the heart, and after a long day, all you want is to go home, and hit the hay.

Thank you so much, Ananya, for your wonderful poem. I like how it shows that there is a home for every creature and that, at the end of the day, most of us just want to go home where we can rest. Thank you so much for writing and recording your poem for us.

Well, Queenie, that was our last poem. Is your jam ready to be eaten?

Queenie: It is!!!! Look – we have 6 jars of yummy jam. I’m going to put five of them in the fridge, and I think we can eat the sixth with  this bread that we have. Oh, I do love the sound of some bread and jam.

Okay then, well, while you make us some jam sandwiches, why don’t I thank everyone for joining us for the episode, and also thank our poets today: Cesca, Naomi, Dharshwana, Sanoja, and Ananya.  Also, I can remind people that they can enter their own poems into the Home competition. You’ll find full details of how to enter on the competition page of kidspoetryclub.com. You have until July 30th, and so there’s still time to enter. I should also remind you that we’re back with a normal episode on Monday, with a brand new topic, and new poems.

Okay then, Queenie …. Let’s try your jam sandwiches ….

Queenie: They are sooooo yummy, Little Dazzy Donuts. Here, try one ….

Oh gosh … the jam is lumpier than I was expecting… and it tastes unusual too.

Queenie: Oh, that’s probably the mashed potatoes. They seem to have added a starchy dimension that is …. unique. Yes, that’s the right word. My mashed potato and raspberry jam is definitely unique. It’s all a learning opportunity. Come on … eat up … there are plenty more sandwiches to eat before we head home!!!!

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