Poetry Comparison

Poetry Comparison

Unseen Poetry Writing about and comparing poems youve never seen before! Conflict poetry Unseen Your Year 10 exam will contain a question on Conflict poetry and a question on unseen poetry. Both questions ask you to compare. Conflict poetry Unseen Your Year 10 exam will contain a question on Conflict poetry and a question on unseen poetry.

The unseen poetry question is in two parts: 1. You analyse one unseen poem (24 marks) 2. You compare it to a second unseen poem (8 marks) Lets look at an example Q1 In Ninetieth Birthday, how does the poet present old age and peoples attitudes towards it? [24 marks] Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's

Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. And there at the top that old woman, Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. You bring her greeting And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Nightjar: a type of nocturnal bird whose call sounds like a spinning wheel Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now

In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. And there at the top that old woman, Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. You bring her greeting And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Step 1: Read through the poem and mark any bits that stand out. This will help you plan your response. Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen

That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Title subject visit to old woman on her birthday Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's

Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Second person voice addresses reader Title subject visit to old woman on her birthday Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Second person voice addresses

reader Title subject visit to old woman on her birthday Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas Feelings slow actions suggest unwilling to visit You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Second person voice addresses

reader Title subject visit to old woman on her birthday Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas Feelings slow actions suggest unwilling to visit You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Mood long, hot

quiet journey Second person voice addresses reader Personification nature talking; emphasises quiet Title subject visit to old woman on her birthday Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas Feelings slow actions suggest unwilling to visit You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now

In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Mood long, hot quiet journey Second person voice addresses reader Personification nature talking; emphasises quiet Image of sun over sea Title subject visit to old woman on her birthday Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas Feelings slow

actions suggest unwilling to visit You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Mood long, hot quiet journey Second person voice addresses reader Personification

nature talking; emphasises quiet Image of sun over sea Title subject visit to old woman on her birthday Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas Feelings slow actions suggest unwilling to visit You go up the long track That will take a car, but is best walked On slow foot, noting the lichen That writes history on the page Of the grey rock. Trees are about you At first, but yield to the green bracken, The nightjars house: you can hear it spin On warm evenings; it is still now In the noonday heat, only the lesser Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, You will pause for breath and the far sea's Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud.

Mood long, hot quiet journey Strong image high up/heaven; suggests cathedral or mountain Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination And there at the top that old woman, Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. You bring her greeting And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss

To hear words that were once wise Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Message impersonal/rude to elderly And there at the top that old woman, Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. You bring her greeting And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Message impersonal/rude to

elderly Structure Pause And there at the top that old woman, shows her wait Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. You bring her greeting And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Feelings pity, nostalgia Message impersonal/rude to elderly

Structure Pause And there at the top that old woman, shows her wait Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. You bring her greeting And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Feelings pity, nostalgia Message impersonal/rude to elderly Structure Pause And there at the top that old woman,

shows her wait Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. Message young You bring her greeting patronise old And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Feelings pity, nostalgia Metaphor close to death Message impersonal/rude to elderly

Structure Pause And there at the top that old woman, shows her wait Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. Message young You bring her greeting patronise old And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Feelings pity, nostalgia Metaphor close to death

Message impersonal/rude to elderly Structure Pause And there at the top that old woman, shows her wait Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. Message young You bring her greeting patronise old And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Only rhyme in the poem Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Is lean kindly across the abyss To hear words that were once wise Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Feelings pity, nostalgia

Metaphor close to death Message impersonal/rude to elderly Structure Pause And there at the top that old woman, shows her wait Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. Message young You bring her greeting patronise old And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone. Only rhyme in the poem Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Message gulf Is lean kindly across the abyss between old and To hear words that were once wise

young Structure new stanza: focus changes from journey to destination Feelings pity, nostalgia Metaphor close to death Message impersonal/rude to elderly Structure Pause And there at the top that old woman, shows her wait Born almost a century back In that stone farm, awaits your coming; Waits for the news of the lost village She thinks she knows, a place that exists In her memory only. Message young You bring her greeting patronise old And praise for having lasted so long With time's knife shaving the bone.

Only rhyme in the poem Yet no bridge joins her own World with yours, all you can do Message gulf Is lean kindly across the abyss between old and To hear words that were once wise young Alliteration joining words were and wise tentative link/grip on past Subject/voice Feelings/mood Language/structure/imagery Message Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas And there at the top that old woman, You go up the long track Born almost a century back That will take a car, but is best walked In that stone farm, awaits your coming; On slow foot, noting the lichen Waits for the news of the lost village

That writes history on the page She thinks she knows, a place that exists Of the grey rock. Trees are about you In her memory only. At first, but yield to the green bracken, You bring her greeting The nightjars house: you can hear it spin And praise for having lasted so long On warm evenings; it is still now With time's knife shaving the bone. In the noonday heat, only the lesser Yet no bridge joins her own Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat World with yours, all you can do And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, Is lean kindly across the abyss You will pause for breath and the far sea's To hear words that were once wise Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Step 2: turn these notes into a plan. 1. Intro Subject journey to visit old lady on bday How old people are viewed

6. Conclusion Sad tone Old people misunderstood & dismissed 2. Old age/lonely/isolated Quiet no people; personification of nature lost village of memory only Waiting for visitors/ reluctance of visitors Old age/attitudes to old age 5. Message journey of life Journey (two stanzas) = metaphor for life Unwilling times knife near death 3. Attitudes that old woman not valued lean kindly praise for having lasted

patronising Two stanzas: journey/ meeting = change in mood 4. Distance between old & young no bridge abyss different world Rhyming couplet emphasises this Subject/voice Feelings/mood Language/structure/imagery Message Ninetieth Birthday by R. S. Thomas And there at the top that old woman, You go up the long track Born almost a century back That will take a car, but is best walked In that stone farm, awaits your coming; On slow foot, noting the lichen Waits for the news of the lost village That writes history on the page

She thinks she knows, a place that exists Of the grey rock. Trees are about you In her memory only. At first, but yield to the green bracken, You bring her greeting The nightjars house: you can hear it spin And praise for having lasted so long On warm evenings; it is still now With time's knife shaving the bone. In the noonday heat, only the lesser Yet no bridge joins her own Voices sound, blue-fly and gnat World with yours, all you can do And the stream's whisper. As the road climbs, Is lean kindly across the abyss You will pause for breath and the far sea's To hear words that were once wise Signal will flash, till you turn again To the steep track, buttressed with cloud. Step 3: write your answer! Read the sample answer and annotate it to identify where the plan has been used. Highlight:

Quotations from the poem Ideas from the plan Terminology References to language (including imagery) and structure Reference to the message of the poem and effect on the reader Q2 Ninetieth Birthday and My Grandmother both explore relationships between young people and the elderly. Compare the ways these relationships are presented in the two poems. [8 marks] Note: This seems like a more difficult question, but youve done all of the hard work already! [Hint: you should always use Q2 to help you focus your answer in Q1] All you need to do is compare. Make three or four clear points and back them up with reference to the poems. She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture,

She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Step 1: Read through the poem and mark any bits that stand out. This will

help you plan your response. She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used

But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Subject/voice Feelings/mood Language/structure/imagery Message Step 1: Read through the poem and mark any bits that stand out. This will help you plan your response. She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt

Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused

To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove

Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship Voice first person; personal memories; contrasts with distance of 90th Bday Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used

But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship Voice first person; personal memories; contrasts with distance of 90th Bday Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room.

The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Feelings guilt of speaker She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt.

Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship Voice first person; personal memories; contrasts with distance of 90th Bday Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Feelings guilt of speaker Simile treating people like objects Metaphor isolation She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture,

She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship Voice first person; personal memories; contrasts with distance of 90th Bday Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused.

I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Feelings guilt of speaker Simile treating people like objects Metaphor isolation Feelings loneliness Message isolation (similar to 90th Bday) She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Subject the speakers

relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship Voice first person; personal memories; contrasts with distance of 90th Bday Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Feelings guilt of speaker Simile treating people like objects Metaphor isolation Feelings loneliness Message isolation (similar to 90th Bday) Structure regular rhyme (ABABCC) throughout; all full rhymes in final stanza She kept an antique shop or it kept her.

Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship Voice first person; personal memories; contrasts with distance of 90th Bday Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again.

And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Feelings guilt of speaker Simile treating people like objects Metaphor isolation Feelings loneliness Message isolation (similar to 90th Bday) Structure regular rhyme (ABABCC) throughout; all full rhymes in final stanza Message obsession with material things She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. My Grandmother by Elizabeth Jennings And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid.

It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Subject the speakers relationship with her grandmother Message cold relationship Voice first person; personal memories; contrasts with distance of 90th Bday Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Feelings guilt of speaker Simile treating people like objects Metaphor isolation

Feelings loneliness Message isolation (similar to 90th Bday) Structure regular rhyme (ABABCC) throughout; all full rhymes in final stanza Message obsession with material things Image linked to death She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt. Subject/voice Feelings/mood Language/structure/imagery Message

Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Step 2: turn these notes into a plan. 1. Intro Cold, distant relationship in both poems 2. Voice Poem 1: second person, general comments Poem 2: first person, more personal Poem 1: 90th Bday Poem 2: My Grandmother

5. Conclusion Different techniques to show similar relationships 3. Language emotional isolation Poem 1: abyss Poem 2: smell of absences 4. Structure and form Poem 1: lots of pauses, reflects reluctance to visit Poem 2: rigid structure, showing coldness and rigidity in relationship She kept an antique shop or it kept her. Among Apostle spoons and Bristol glass, The faded silks, the heavy furniture, She watched her own reflection in the brass Salvers and silver bowls, as if to prove Polish was all, there was no need of love. And I remember how I once refused To go out with her, since I was afraid. It was perhaps a wish not to be used Like antique objects. Though she never said That she was hurt, I still could feel the guilt Of that refusal, guessing how she felt.

Subject/voice Feelings/mood Language/structure/imagery Message Later, too frail to keep a shop, she put All her best things in one narrow room. The place smelt old, of things too long kept shut, The smell of absences where shadows come That cant be polished. There was nothing then To give her own reflection back again. And when she died I felt no grief at all, Only the guilt of what I once refused. I walked into her room among the tall Sideboards and cupboards things she never used But needed; and no finger marks were there, Only the new dust falling through the air. Step 3: write your answer! Read the sample answer and annotate it to identify where the plan has been used. Highlight:

Quotations from the poems Ideas from the plan Terminology References to language (including imagery) and structure Reference to the message of the poems and effect on the reader Any comparisons or contrasts between the poems Time to have a go on your own! Q1 In Handbag, what do you think the speaker is saying about her mother? How are these ideas presented? [24 marks] Q2 The speakers of Handbag and Jumper both use an object to convey their feelings about their mothers. What similarities and differences are there in the way these feelings are conveyed?

[8 marks] Write your answer on two thirds of your page. You will use the left over third of your page to add green pen annotations later. Subject/voice Feelings/mood Language/structure/imagery Message Step 1: Read your answer and annotate it to identify where you have included the following things: Subject/voice Feelings/mood Language/structure/imagery Quotations from the poems Ideas from your plan Terminology

References to language (including imagery) and structure Reference to the message of the poems and effect on the reader Any comparisons or contrasts between the poems (Q2 only) Message Step 2: annotate your answer to add in any improvements or gaps you have identified. WWW/ WWW/ EBI

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