Unexpected JOY

Marjorie, living her best life.

I have been meaning to write this post for ages but was sure I'd forget something or someone lovely. I probably still will, but here we go!

Since I started my children's poetry journey, JOY has been a frequent visitor, often popping up in unexpected ways. 

My third book is coming this September. When editing the manuscript I found that I had used the word JOY in two separate titles! One of those poems is plainly and simply about JOY (yes I am going to use capitals every time - no JOY-hiding here!). 

    'Fill a bottle with it

    Sip it sneakily in lessons

    Sprinkle it on next door’s lawn...' (From Poems on Toast, Troika Books, out 14.9.26)

It's cheesy maybe, but writing poetry and sharing it with children (and adults) is bringing me so much of the J word. School visits are my favourite - seeing smiling faces and having children show me poems they've written, or telling me that they want to be an author. Or a parent telling me that their child isn't usually keen on reading but can't put my book down. Teachers telling me that children who don't often get involved during class are engaging with poetry performance and reluctant readers are trying poetry.

But there have also been the surprise JOYs. People play a big part in this.

The friendly chats in schools with parents and staff.

The teachers who have stayed in contact and become Facebook friends to continue chatting about books and our children and life. 

Being contacted by a TA to write a poem as a retirement surprise for the Deputy Head who booked me. 

Chatting online with the lovely illustrator of my first book - about all sorts, as well as sharing bookish celebrations with her. 

Then a teacher friend of hers getting in touch to say how much their class enjoyed the book; me sending a note in the post for them.

The mum of a fan in Mumbai making contact via Instagram, then sending a voice message from the child themselves.

Being told that my poems have been used to teach English as a foreign language - and one tutor sharing a video to prove it! 

A teacher-youtuber asking if she could make a video of one of my poems to share with teachers (yes!). 

Seeing my words in LUSH gift boxes for sale in the shops. 

Friends sending me (and making me) lime-themed gifts. 

The granddaughter of a well-known poet and radio presenter sending me illustrations that she made for one of my poems.

Being sent surprise earrings to test-run by the brilliant artist who makes my book earrings (plus a fridge magnet which really made me smile!). 

Emails out of the blue to tell me that my book is being enjoyed. 

Videos sent of children performing my poems.

Schools inviting me based on another school's recommendation.

Schools asking me back for return visits.

Display boards with my name and face on and posters announcing the VIP visit (Very Important Poet!). 

Cake in the staffroom for my visit.

Being called Auntie Lime, Mrs Poetry and Adventure Poet (and Alan!)

A school planning to start an annual Attie Lime Poetry Award.

A special group of poetry friends that I'll have forever. 

A hug from a grateful teacher.

And more.

So. Much. JOY.

There are many more poetry-related things that have happened to bring me unexpected JOY (who'd have ever thought I'd like performing?!!) and lots of wonderful poetry friends I could mention, but I think you get the picture. 

So, thank you. I just wanted to share because I feel very lucky to be doing a job that I love and meeting so many genuinely lovely people along the way. I started doing this simply because I love writing poems but it has become something much more. What a privilege. What an absolute JOY.

Keep reading, writing and imagining!

Attie x

To Teach or Not to Teach

I start my school visits with an assembly, introducing myself and my poetry. Once in class for individual sessions, I ask the children, Who can remember my name? What do I do? Why am I here? 

In a school recently, a Year Six child answered, 'You're here to teach us poetry'. I get that answer a lot, and it makes me twitch a bit. I explained that actually, I wasn't. That I have been a teacher, but I was there to have fun with words, and for us to practise using our imaginations together. That I wasn't there to teach them anything, but we might happen to learn things along the way. 

It turned out that this was a Year Six class without a strong love of reading (despite the teacher's efforts). Several of them were able to tell me the benefits and joys of reading, and of course I shared my belief that if you don't enjoy it, you haven't found the right book yet. 

I only had a short timetabled session with this class, and during that time, the teacher was informed that school was having to close due to a power failure. Parents had been called. She began to quietly tell individual children, who gathered their coats and bags and disappeared. Part-way through my workshop, she apologised to me; she needed to share news of the closure with the whole class. 

Now picture the scene: Year 6 have just been told - before 10am - that school is closing! There was great excitement, much chatter, and some cheering. A few slightly befuddled faces as they had a visitor in, didn't they (fittingly, I had performed a poem in assembly with the lines, "We want to go home at half past twelve, but Miss says No!"). A few more children with parents already outside, left the room.

I was right in the middle of the main workshop activity. The teacher quietened them down. Then had to settle them again (school closing unexpectedly IS exciting!) I added my piece - it was just as odd for me, but we should make the most of it - and so, we carried on. To their credit, the remaining children dived right back into the activity and continued to stretch their imaginations and share their ideas, until the end of the session (we could have easily gone on longer). 

Did I go in to teach them poetry? No. Did they enjoy the experience, think creatively, and use their imaginations and voices to express themselves? Yes, yes, yes. I have even had a message from a parent about how much their child enjoyed my visit. Praise indeed, given that we had all, in fact, gone home by half past twelve.

Attie x

Poems From Hartshorne Primary School

As part of Swadlincote Festival of Words 2025, I spent a day at Hartshorne CofE Primary School, sharing poems and helping the children to use their brilliant imaginations. In Pine and Oak Classes, we wrote poems together as a group, with the help of wordy games and a bag of magic beans!

In a Book I can... by Pine Class

In a book I can

Cross a river of lava using paper

Ride a tall, rainbow dog to school

Create a meow-meow Skibidi

Zoom on a T-Rex to Mars

In a book I can

Fly on a giant rabbit to Jupiter

Fall down a sinkhole and land in China

Go back in time and paint the Mona Lisa

Trip over my own head

In a book I can

Call Bobby McBobster The Third to give me KFC

Time travel with Big Bird

Wrap a dragon in toilet paper then ride him into ancient times

Run round Saturn's rings to be part of The Big Bang

Distract a dragon with chocolates and teach it how to skip!

In a book I can do ANYTHING!

Beans by Oak Class

Luke's magic beans grew an everlasting lolly with Infinity sprinkles

Tom's magic beans grew the world's biggest magic dogs

Issy's magic beans grew minions which give you unlimited wishes

Lila's magic beans grew colour-changing emotion ice-cream

Rav's magic beans grew terrifying farty socks

Joey's magic beans grew making-things-become-real pencils

Elle's magic beans grew a super-fast hover-Lamborghini

Matt's magic beans grew little-sister-eating monsters

Dolly's magic beans grew multi-coloured hypnotising gems

Jude's magic beans grew hearts exploding with love

Flo's magic beans grew enchanted refilling treasure chests

Elaina's magic beans grew x-ray vision glasses

What will my beans grow?

Well done, everyone!

Why not have a go at writing a magic bean poem about your family, friends, or classmates? Or perhaps a book poem about all the things you have read about in the books you love? Have fun!