Teaching Children to Love Poetry, Part 2: Why Memorize Poetry?

One of the things I am most proud of in my literature classes is that my students love to memorize poetry—the longer the better. My students have a stockpile of verses memorized, which allows them to draw insightful comparisons at the drop of a hat, effortlessly quote lines in their own writing and during discussion, and most importantly, venture into the world with a soul strengthened by some of the most beautiful words ever strung together by mankind.

Every year, I teach a poem called “The Buttercup” by Mary Howitt to my 3rd grade class as a complement to Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter. The poem is about a personified buttercup, dancing in the sun without a care in the world. Suddenly, the buttercup is accosted by an old dandelion, grumpy and gone to seed. The dandelion scolds the buttercup for being happy, claiming that there is no point in being glad when he will probably die in a week. The unflappable buttercup continues to dance, and has some choice words for the dandelion, too: “If one’s to live in fear of death, one might as well be dead.” The poem is about the difference between loving life and living in fear.

Not only did my students immediately identify the buttercup as Pollyanna and the dandelion as Miss Polly, but when we went on to read Jane of Lantern Hill, they referred back to “The Buttercup” again. This time, Jane’s grandmother was the dandelion. Adorably, I even found them quoting the buttercup’s aforementioned choice words to an actual dandelion they found on the playground one day.

And, they memorized the poem. Many of my current 4th graders still remember the poem by heart. Imagine my surprise when, while reading a different book almost a year after studying the poem, one of my students said, “If one’s to live in fear of death, one might as well be dead!”

For the rest of their lives, they will be able to identify those they encounter, in fiction and in their everyday lives, as dandelions and buttercups. Such is just one of the many gifts of memorizing poetry.

That class from last year loved the poem so much that they begged to perform it at the end-of-year recital. They were a hit, and I received a lot of comments about the poem from parents and teachers alike once the recital was over.

“I loved that dandelion poem.”

“That is a perfect poem to describe [current event]. I wish I could have said what the buttercup said during that time.”

“Did you notice the connection to [current event] in that dandelion poem the third grade performed, Mrs. Steele?”

What I’ve chosen to censor matters not a whit. These comments from adults serve to prove a larger principle about the lifelong power of poetry, and of having it at the ready. Poetry aids us in making sense of the world that surrounds us, regardless of age, and it does so with memorable, powerful language that serves to make us more whole than we were before we encountered it.

So, memorize beautiful poetry. Have it at the ready. Help your children to memorize it, too, so they can find buttercups, recognize dandelions, and learn countless other ways to be happy through the power of poetry.

A Buttercup

by Mary Howitt

A little yellow buttercup

Stood laughing in the sun;

The grass all green around it,

The summer just begun;

Its saucy little head brim

With happiness and fun.

Near by—grown old, and gone to seed—

A dandelion grew;

To right and left with every breeze

His snowy tresses flew.

He shook his hoary head, and said:

“I’ve some advice for you.

“Don’t think because you’re yellow now

That golden days will last;

I was as gay as you are once,

But now my youth is past.

This day will be my last to bloom;

The hours are going fast.

“Perhaps your fun may last a week,

But then you’ll have to die.”

The dandelion ceased to speak—

A breeze that capered by

Snatched all the white hairs from his head

And wafted them on high.

His yellow neighbor first looked sad,

Then, cheering up, he said:

“If one’s to live in fear of death,

One might as well be dead.”

The little buttercup laughed on,

And waved his golden head.


Click here to read part three!


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Grace Steele