Helên has enthralled and entertained audiences the Edinburgh Fringe Festival to The Bowery Club in New York, and once won a karaoke competition in Cairns, Australia! A few years after winning the Manchester Poetry Festival Slam she joined forces with primary school teacher Kate McGann to devise We Are Poets, a performance piece for children. All of the poems in this book are written by Helên and feature in the original 'We Are Poets' show and its sequel, 'We Are Poets Stuck at the Airport'.


We Are Poets! by Helen Thomas
We Are Poets!
children's poetry, ages 5+
ISBN 978-0-9555092-0-9 | 52pp | 2008
rrp £5.99 NOW £3.99 | ebook £4.99

paypal
Kindle
Kobo

WINNER Book of the Month Award, The Poetry Kit, June 2008

We Are Poets! is Helên's sparkling collection for younger readers. It features a selection of children's poems, ranging from the floor filling anthemic action poem 'Everybody Everywhere Stomp Your Feet!' to the calming, chill-out poetry of 'Memory Beach'.
The book showcases a variety of poetic styles including narrative verse, limericks, rap, and there's even a villanelle in there!
The poems introduce a wide range of fantastic characters including rock-star silk worms, obese fruit bats, myopic professors and lots of naughty, grubby, scabby children.

"Playing with structure and form she produces magical poetry which shows how relevant poetry can be. It's fun, it's amazing, it's Helên on top form. Great illustrations... This is a collection that should be in every school library." - Jim Bennett, The Poetry Kit

"I love your poems so much, I think you deserve a treat." - Yr 1 pupil at Holy Spirit Primary School, Merseyside

"A lively, lovely and very funny collection of children's verse in the spirit of Edward Lear and Roald Dahl." - Arthur Chappell, poet & reviewer

"Year 4 haven't stopped writing poetry since!" - Yr 4 teacher at St. Oswald's School, Netherton

I Hate Tests!
'I Hate Tests!'

Cover & illustrations by Brink.

Scabby Knees
from We Are Poets! © Helên Thomas, 2007

Scabby knees! Scabby knees!
Can I pick them; can I please?
They're so itchy, brown and scratchy,
Crusty, flaky and quite nasty,
Like burnt pastry on a pasty,
If I pick them Mum might catch me.
 
Scabby knees! Scabby knees!
Can I pick them; can I please?
Can I scratch them; can I pick them?
Can I pull bits off and flick them?
 
Scabby knees! Scabby knees!
I got them falling from the trees,
Onto hard ground with a thud,
Playing games of Robin Hood,
My knees would be scab free they would,
If I had fallen in the mud!
 
Scabby knees! Scabby knees!
Can I pick them; can I please?
Can I scratch them; can I pick them?
Can I pull bits off and flick them?
 
Scabby knees! Scabby knees!
Look like they've got a bad disease,
Crispy coated with dried blood,
Underneath there's gunky crud,
I would ban them if I could,
Scabby knees are just no good!

Flapjack Press: exploring the synergy between performance and the page.