The midnight skaters
It is midnight in the ice rink
And all is cool and still.
Darkness seems to hold its breath
Nothing moves, until
Out of the kitchen, one by one,
The cutlery comes creeping,
Quiet as mice to the brink of the ice
While all the world is sleeping.
Then suddenly, a serving-spoon
Switches on the light,
And the silver swoops upon the ice
Screaming with delight.
The knives are high-speed skaters
Round and round they race,
Blades hissing, sissing,
Whizzing at a dizzy pace.
Forks twirl like dancers
Pirouetting on the spot.
Teaspoons (who take no chances)
Hold hands and giggle a lot.
All night long the fun goes on
Until the sun, their friend,
Gives the warning signal
That all good things must end.
So they slink back to the darkness
of the kitchen cutlery-drawer
And steel themselves to wait
Until it's time to skate once more.
At eight the canteen ladies
Breeze in as good as gold
To lay the tables and wonder
Why the cutlery is so cold.
(c) Roger Mc Gough from All the Best.
- performing this poem with actions.
- creating your own illustration from the images the poem describes.