Page 62 - Lavender-B-4

Let’s read a poem about a mother who loves to narrate a story.

When Mother reads aloud, the past

Seems real as every day,

I hear the tramp of armies vast,

I see the spears and lances cast,

I join the thrilling fray;

Brave knights and ladies fair and proud

I meet when Mother reads aloud.

When Mother reads aloud, far lands

Seem very near and true;

I cross the desert’s gleaming sands,

Or hunt the jungle’s prowling bands,

Or sail the ocean blue.

Far heights, whose peaks the cold mists shroud,

I scale, when Mother reads aloud.

Have you ever got
motivated by your Let’s connect
mother to do good and
noble deeds? How?
tramp: the sound of heavy steps
lance: a very long thin pointed weapon
fray: an energetic and often not well-
organised activity
gleaming: bright and shiny
prowling: moving around an area
quietly and secretly
shroud: (here) to cover

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