Poetry Day in kindergarten project. Poetry day in kindergarten. Scenario for the preparatory group. Scenario for the holiday World Poetry Day for Children
Puchkova Antonina
Entertainment script “Poetry Evening”
Move: children enter the hall to the music, walk around and sit on chairs.
Leading:
-A wonderful page of poetry
The door opens for us today,
And let any miracle happen!
Most importantly, believe in him with all your heart!
Love and beauty of nature,
The road of fairy tales, any world, -
Everything is subject to control Poetry,- Try!
And open the door to her country!
The rustle of leaves underfoot, a drop of rain,
Rainbow in the sky, nightingale trills, -
Here the frost draws a pattern on the glass.
The world around is beautiful! And everyone in it is an actor.
(E. Nekrasova)
Leading:
Hello guys! I invite you to our event dedicated to poetry. As you may have already guessed, the hostess of today's holiday will be poetry.
By the way, guys, do you know who writes poetry? It seems to me that these are composers!
Children - no.
Leading:- Well, then - an artist!
Children - no.
Leading:- Well, tell me, what are they called?
Children are Poets.
Leading: - That's right, guys, poets write poetry. And our guest today is the Naryshkin poetess Ponomareva Valentina Anatolyevna. Let's welcome her!
Leading: - Guys, guess the riddle.
Opened her snowy arms,
The trees were all dressed in dresses.
The weather is cold
What time of year is this? (Winter)
Song "Winter"
Leading: - Guys, not only songs, but also poems have been written about winter, I suggest reading them.
Reading a poem "The snowdrifts are growing..."
Reading the poem "Snowflakes are flying, circling..."
Reading the poem "They came down onto my palm..."
Dance "Snowflakes"
Leading: - Children guess the following riddle:
Sparrows, swifts, penguins,
Bullfinches, rooks, peacocks,
Parrots and tits:
In a word it is -. (birds)
(Yu. Svetlova)
Leading:- Today we will listen to interesting poems about birds.
Reading a poem “Frosts and snowstorms again...”
Reading a poem "My Guest"
Poem readings "We built a birdhouse."
Leading:- Guys, now I suggest you play a game "Guess the bird".
If you give the correct answer, it will appear on the screen.
A game "Guess the bird"
1. Which bird is called a gossip. (Magpie).
2. This bird does not build its own nest - it lays its own eggs in others’ (Cuckoo).
3. A blizzard is howling in the autumn forest, the trees are cracking from the frost, and this bird is making a nest in the very cold and hatching chicks! And she has an unusual beak -
cross-shaped to get the seeds of the cones. (Crossbill).
4. What is the name of a large bird with long legs and a straight beak,
who hunts in the swamp? (Stork).
Moldavian folk game "Bird Without a Nest"
Leading:- Well done children! Tell me, please, do you like to work? Now I suggest listening to a poem about a good deed.
Reading a poem "Someone made me boots."
Leading:- And now two doctors will come to us, welcome!
Reading a poem "Two Doctors"
Leading:- Guys, who is this riddle about?
A tailor walks through the forest,
A hundred needles behind! (Hedgehog).
Reading a poem “Where are you hurrying, Hedgehog?”
Leading:- Children, I want to introduce you to the author of all the poems,
voiced today. This is Valentina Anatolyevna Ponomareva, let’s greet her!
Word by V. Ponomareva.
Leading:- Our holiday was a great success.
And we think that everyone liked it!
Publications on the topic:
This year we continue to cooperate with the Children's City Library named after. Yu. F. Tretyakova. November 3 was the 128th birthday of the child.
Target: introduce children to the works of the Rostov poet N. S. Dormakov
Tasks:
Educational: teach children to read poetry loudly and expressively; consolidate ideas about Stavropol poets, improve the cognitive and mental abilities and speech of children.
Developmental: develop the child’s creative personality and activity.
Educational: improve children’s ability to enjoy the artistic word, feel and understand the figurative language of poetry.
Preliminary work: acquaintance with the work of the Rostov poet, memorizing the poems of N. S. Dormakov; drawing on the theme of poems by N. S. Dormakov; making a gift for a poet, writing poetry with your parents.
Equipment: multimedia installation, photo-musical presentations for poems told by teachers, etc.
Integration of educational areas: multimedia installation, photo-musical presentations for poems narrated by teachers, etc.
Progress of the event:
Stage 1. Motivational - incentive.Educator:Hello guys. Today is an extraordinary day! On March 21, 1999, at the 30th session of the UNESCO General Conference, it was decided to celebrate World Poetry Day annually.
Among the important and popular professions
There is no trace of the profession of a poet...
Let’s say it’s not a rewarding job
“A poet in Russia is more than a poet...”
It seems to me that writing poetry is like being able to fly like a bird. This cannot be learned, but everyone can learn to understand poetry. The real mistress of today will be poetry, and poetry will be the long-awaited guests.
Do you know what poetry is?(children's answers)
What does the word poet mean?(children's answers)
What poets do you know?(children's answers)
There are various good and simple poems.
Poems can be sad, but they can also be funny.
Do you guys like to listen and read poetry? So here we go.
Today our guest is our Rostov children's poet Nikolai Sergeevich Dormakov.
(poet's speech)
Today is a holiday, and on holidays it is customary to give gifts. Our guys have prepared a surprise for you.
(children read the poet’s poems)
Host: Nikolai Sergeevich, tell me why a person starts writing poetry? Where does this amazing gift come from?
Our children, together with their parents, also tried their hand at poetry and this is what they came up with. (children read their poems)
Host: Thank you very much for this very interestingmeetingand in memory of our meeting, accept a gift - a book made with your own hands based on your poems and drawings by our guys.
Galina Yakupova
About what role acquaintance with children plays in the life of preschoolers children's poets and their works, one can talk endlessly. Memorizing poetry from a very early age has enormous benefits, broadens one’s horizons, develops memory, and enriches one’s vocabulary. This is one of the means of mental, moral and aesthetic education of children. Therefore in our kindergarten Great attention is paid to familiarizing children with the works of poets.
On the eighth of June at garden was thematic poet's day. The names of such children's poets, like S. Ya. Marshak, K. I. Chukovsky, A. L. Barto, G. Tukay and many others, with familiar to everyone from childhood. In that day in each group, conversations were held with children, corners were created where the children got acquainted with the portraits children's poets, their poems, illustrative material of famous works. In the older groups, game tasks based on famous works were used and quizzes were held. The children listened with great pleasure to the poems performed by the teachers, recited them by heart, and memorized new works.
In the corridor children's an exhibition has been set up in the garden children's drawings for works children's poet S. Y. Marshak, who turns 130 this year.
Teachers children's kindergartens do everything to ensure that our kids love poetry, were brought up on it to love creativity children's poets was passed down from generation to generation.
Publications on the topic:
On March 21, 1999, at a UNESCO conference in Paris, it was decided to celebrate World Poetry Day. And on this spring day, the guys and I decided.
Our kindergarten took part in the All-Russian "SNOW DAY", taking part in the regional competition. Parents became great helpers.
Program content: Provide children with the opportunity to use motor skills and abilities acquired earlier. Strengthen the physical.
How we celebrate a birthday in kindergarten A baby’s birthday is a happy opportunity for adults to feel the charm of childhood! How.
Warm greetings to you, my friends! Today I read Gulsini Gibadullina’s post and I support her. We are in our kindergarten (at the request of the parents).
“Physical education is what ensures health and brings joy.” Health is a great value for every person. Grow.
Literary lounge “Journey to a country where the sun of poetry shines”, dedicated to Poetry Day“A journey to a country where the sun of poetry shines” Goal: creating a social situation for the development of children through the poetry of children's authors. Objectives:.
Themed day in kindergarten “Snowdrop Day” Presentation of work experience within the framework of the “One Day in Kindergarten” competition on holding a themed day with children of senior preschool age:.
Scenario for Poetry Day
"Beautiful impulses of the soul"
Purpose of the event: instill a love of poetry, develop creative abilities, and the ability to use visual and expressive means of language.
Presenter1 :
According to UNESCO, March 21 is celebrated as World Poetry Day.
Presenter2:
Poetry is probably one of the most brilliant achievements of mankind. To pour out your feelings in poetic form, to capture your worldview in rhyme, to dream about the future and remember the past, while simultaneously addressing millions and remaining alone with yourself - only poetry, the greatest of the arts created by man, is capable of this.
Presenter1:
Not many become great and famous poets, but many have tried to write poetry at least once in their lives. After all, most people are far from alien to those “beautiful impulses of the soul” that prompt a person to take a pen, a piece of paper and start creating.
Presenter2:
Write poetry without thinking about fame and immortality. After all, even a small, unknown poem written by a child is also a huge spiritual contribution to the cultural and intellectual prosperity of the entire society.
Music sounds softly (Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”).
Presenter1:
Poetry always leaves in the heart a trace of “sublime dreams, and sincere sorrow, and human thoughts.”
What is poetry?
She is a combination of magical sounds,
Souls of excited dreams,
The torment of a proud mind.
The verse contains a tune familiar from childhood.
He has been known for so long.
And the heart, hearing him, trembles,
And the lines flow in succession...
They beckon, they take you away.
V. Pechurova What is poetry?
Reader
The old syllable attracts me.
There is charm in ancient speech.
It can be both more modern and sharper than our words.
Shout out: “Half a kingdom for a horse!”
What temper and generosity!
But it will come down on me too
the last enthusiasm is futility.
Someday I'll wake up in the dark,
forever losing the battle,
and now it will come to my memory
madman's ancient decision.
Oh, what half a kingdom is for me!
A child taught by centuries,
I'll take the horse, I'll give the horse
in half a moment with a person,
beloved by me. God be with you,
O. my horse, my horse, my zealous horse.
I will weaken your reason for free
– and you will catch up with your dear herd,
you will catch up there, in the empty and reddish steppe.
And I’m tired of the clamor of these victories and defeats.
I feel sorry for the horse! I'm sorry love!
And in a medieval manner
only a trace falls under my feet,
left by a horseshoe.
B. Akhmadulina “An ancient syllable attracts me...”
Presenter2:
You expect the impossible from poetry. And only poetry gives this impossible. The greatest miracle occurs when simple words and lines suddenly form poetic stanzas, and unreal, supernatural pictures of the world arise.
Reader
The clouds are rushing, the clouds are swirling;
Invisible moon
The flying snow illuminates;
The sky is cloudy, the night is dark.
I'm driving, driving in an open field;
Bell ding-ding-ding...
Scary, scary involuntarily
Among the unknown plains!
“Hey, the coachman has gone!..” - “No urine:
It’s hard for the horses, master;
The blizzard blinds my eyes;
All the roads were skidded;
For the life of me, there is no trace;
We've lost our way.
What should we do?
The demon leads us into the field, apparently
Yes, it circles around.
Look: there he is playing,
Blows, spits on me;
There - now he’s pushing into the ravine
Wild horse;
There's an unprecedented mileage there
He stuck out in front of me;
There he sparkled with a small spark
And disappeared into the darkness empty!”
The clouds are rushing, the clouds are swirling;
Invisible moon
The flying snow illuminates;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
We have no strength; we are still spinning;
The bell suddenly fell silent;
The horses began... “What’s there in the field?”
- “Who knows them? stump or wolf?
The blizzard is angry, the blizzard is crying;
Sensitive horses snore;
There he is galloping far away;
Only the eyes glow in the darkness;
The horses rushed again;
Bell ding-ding-ding...
I see: the spirits have gathered
Among the white plains.
Endless, ugly,
In the muddy game of the month
Various demons began to spin,
Like leaves in November...
How many of them! where are they being driven?
Why are they singing so pitifully?
Do they bury the brownie?
Do they marry off a witch?
The clouds are rushing, the clouds are swirling;
Invisible moon
The flying snow illuminates;
The sky is cloudy, the night is cloudy.
Demons rush swarm after swarm
In the infinite heights,
With plaintive squeals and howls
Breaking my heart...
A. S. Pushkin “Demons”
Presenter1:
The poet-singer is forever alone in the universe. The poet's loneliness at all times gives birth to captivating songs, full of inexplicable sadness, bright sadness and dreams of immortality.
The romance “I go out alone on the road” is performed
Presenter2:
If only you knew what kind of rubbish
Poems grow without shame,
Like a yellow dandelion by the fence,
Like burdocks and quinoa.
A. Akhmatova If only you knew what kind of rubbish
Presenter1:
How are poems born? Sometimes it’s easy and accidental, sometimes it’s painfully difficult. One thing is certain: the poetic gift is a gift from God. And the image of the Muse - one of the eternal images of poetry - is the image of the messenger of heaven.
Reader
The sister muse looked into the face,
Her gaze is clear and bright.
And she took away the golden ring,
First spring gift.
Muse! you see how happy everyone is
Girls, women, widows...
I'd rather die on the wheel,
Not these shackles.
I know: guessing, and I should cut off
Delicate daisy flower.
Must experience on this earth
Every love torture.
I burn a candle in the window until dawn
And I don’t grieve for anyone,
But I don't want, I don't want, I don't want
Know how to kiss another.
Tomorrow the mirrors will tell me, laughing:
"Your gaze is not clear, not bright...
I will quietly answer: “She took away God’s gift.”
M. Tsvetaeva “Muse”
Presenter1:
The inexorable Muse demands sacrifice and sacrifice, and the greatest effort. Listening to himself, the poet in agony gives birth to the music of poetry from individual sounds.
Reader
It happens like this: some kind of languor;
The chime of the clock does not stop in my ears;
In the distance, the rumble of fading thunder.
I imagine both complaints and groans,
Some secret circle is narrowing,
But in this abyss of whispers and ringings
One, all-conquering sound rises.
It’s so incredibly quiet around him,
You can hear the grass growing in the forest,
How he walks dashingly on the ground with a knapsack...
But now the words are heard
And light rhymes are signal bells, -
Then I begin to understand
And just dictated lines
They go into a snow-white notebook.
A. Akhmatova “Creativity”
Presenter1:
The birth of poetry is hard work, not for the sake of earthly glory, not for one’s own sake, but according to the will of God. The poet, in spite of everything, overcoming all obstacles, in a stubborn struggle, with sweat and blood, creates immortal creations.
Presenter2:
Only a poet can describe all the beauty of the world, all the ordinariness of life, the smallest details and the grandiose scale of an event, all the inexplicable complexity of existence.
Reader
As never before, carefree and kind,
I went out into the snow of the Arbat courtyard,
And there it was: it was getting light there!
The light blossomed like a lilac bush,
And in the yard, recently so empty,
Suddenly it became bright and crowded from the children.
Irish Setter, as playful as fire
He placed the back of his head in my palm,
Puppies and children rejoiced in the snow,
Snow got into my eyes and lips,
And this little incident was funny,
And everyone laughed and inclined to laugh.
How at that moment I loved Moscow
And I thought: the longer I live,
The simpler the mind, the fresher the soul.
Here's the snow, here's the janitor, here's the child running -
Everything exists and can be sung,
What could be more reasonable and sacred?
A day to live like a living being,
Stands and awaits my fate,
And the air of the day seems healing to me.
Ah, the luck that lived was not enough
I was completely happy
In that lane called Khlebny.
B. Akhmadulina “As carefree and kind as ever”
Presenter 1:
The changeable, every second changing world, unforgettable moments of life, the breath of the wind, the rustle of leaves, the flight of an alder earring - everything is so tightly intertwined and tied together in life and in poetic lines.
Performs the romance “Alder Earring”
(music by E. Krylatov, lyrics by E. Yevtushenko)
Presenter2 :
It all starts with love...
They say at the beginning, there was a word.
And I proclaim again,
It all starts with love.
Both insight and work.
The eyes of flowers, the eyes of a child -
It all starts with love.
Presenter1:
Love…! It is difficult to establish when it appeared on Earth! Obviously, together with a person. This is the oldest and greatest feeling.
Presenter2:
How does love arise?
Presenter1:
Already from birth, the first feelings and sensations of affection and care are given to us by maternal love. There is no person in the world dearer and closer than a mother. Her love for children is boundless, selfless, and full of dedication.
Presenter2:
Motherhood in Rus' has always been synonymous with holiness, and the birth of a new life is considered one of the greatest sacraments on Earth.
Take care of mothers! (R. Gamzatov).
Everyone stand up and listen while standing
Preserved in all its glory
This word is ancient, holy!
Straighten up! Get up!..
Stand up everyone!
This word will never deceive you,
There is a being hidden in it.
It is the source of everything.
There is no end to it.
Get up! I pronounce it:
- Mother!
Presenter1 :
Poetry and love are inseparable. Feelings - whether the first, tender or later, the latter longs to be poured out on paper, to sound like a song of delight or sadness. And only poetry can express the joy of meeting and the boundless rapture of a date.
Reader
At a late hour we were with her in the field.
I, trembling, touched tender lips...
"I want hugs until it hurts,
Be merciless and rude to me!”
Tired, she asked tenderly:
“Lully, let me rest,
Don't kiss so hard and rebelliously
Lay your head on my chest."
The stars sparkled quietly above us,
There was a subtle smell of fresh dew.
I touched you tenderly with my lips
To hot cheeks and to braids.
And she forgot. Once I woke up,
Like a child sighed in the semi-darkness,
But, looking at it, she smiled faintly
And again she pressed herself against me.
The night reigned for a long time in the dark field,
For a long time I guarded a sweet dream...
And then on the golden throne,
Shined quietly in the east
It’s a new day, it’s getting cool in the fields...
I woke her up quietly
And in the steppe, sparkling and scarlet,
I walked home through the dew.
I. A. Bunin “At a late hour we were with her in the field”
Presenter1 :
There are so many magical songs and beautiful poems about love. Bright sadness and melancholy everywhere accompany a deep, strong feeling that transforms human souls and the world around us.
Presenter2:
There are so many incomprehensible, unknown things in the world of love. Mystery. Secret. Incomprehensibility. Everything contains a grandiose feeling. And everything is subject to this feeling - people, gods, demons. The great temptation is fraught with a demonic declaration of love.
Presenter1:
A declaration of love is often accompanied by an invitation to dance. And an invitation to dance can become an invitation to life.
Reader
What a ball it was!
The intensity of movement, sound, nerves!
Hearts beat three counts instead of two.
In addition, the ladies invited gentlemen
The white waltz, traditional - and breathtaking.
You yourself, although you dance with grief in half,
I decided to invite her alone a long time ago,
And now, getting closer, becoming more and more real,
She, whom I intended to approach,
She comes herself to invite you to a waltz,
And the blood in your temples beats to the rhythm of a waltz.
She tossed, broke, trembled in the unsteady light of the candles.
There was a white waltz - the end of the doubts of those of little faith
And the end of youthful dreams, fun, pleasures,
Today the ladies invited gentlemen -
Not because, not because those people have little courage.
Elevated to the rank of ladies for the duration of the ball,
And the waltz turns our heads, just like in the old days.
But you always have to be away on business
Rush to the rescue, get ready for war.
Whiter than snow white waltz, spin, spin,
May the snowfall last longer!
She came to invite you to life
And you were white - whiter than the walls, whiter than the waltz.
You are outwardly calm in the midst of a noisy ball,
But the shadow behind you gave you away -
She tossed, trembled, broke in the unsteady light of the candles.
And holding it carefully, and circling wildly,
You could run it along the edge of a knife
Don’t just stand there with folded arms, you’re not your own and no one’s!
Wherever the ball was - in the Lyceum, in the House of Officers,
In the palace hall, at school - how lucky you were -
In Russia, ladies invited gentlemen
In all centuries there was a white waltz, and everything was white and white.
Looking down, not looking around,
Through despair, silence, silence
Women hurried to come to our aid,
Their ballroom is the size of the entire country.
Wherever you are thrown, wherever you disappear,
Remember the waltz - how white you were! - and smile.
They will wait for you forever - both from the sea and from heaven -
And they'll invite you to a white waltz when you return.
V. Vysotsky “White Waltz”.
A musical excerpt from F. Chopin's play “Waltz of the Rain” is played.
They dance the waltz.
Presenter1 :
Thoughts about Russia, its fate, past and present, about its beauty, chosenness and unusualness - everything merged together in the poetic image of the Motherland - an eternally beautiful wife, lover, mother. Love and pain sound sharply and piercingly in poems about Russia.
Reader
I love my fatherland, but with a strange love!
My reason will not defeat her.
Nor glory bought with blood,
Nor the peace full of proud trust,
Nor the dark old treasured legends
No joyful dreams stir within me.
But I love - for what, I don’t know myself -
Its steppes are coldly silent,
Her boundless forests sway,
The floods of its rivers are like seas;
On a country road I like to ride in a cart
And, with a slow gaze piercing the shadow of the night,
Meet on the sides, sighing for an overnight stay,
Trembling lights of sad villages.
I love the smoke of burnt stubble,
A train spending the night in the steppe,
And on a hill in the middle of a yellow field
A couple of white birches.
With joy unknown to many
I see a complete threshing floor
A hut covered with straw
Window with carved shutters;
And on a holiday, on a dewy evening,
Ready to watch until midnight
To dance with stomping and whistling
Under the talk of drunken men.
M. Yu. Lermontov “Motherland”
Presenter1 :
Without this strange love, life is impossible, without it everything loses meaning, and dull, hopeless melancholy sets in.
The romance “The fragrant bunches of white acacia” is performed
Presenter2 :
But the immortal poetic word dispels darkness and creates light, creating wisdom and goodness.A. Akhmatova wrote in her poem “Our Sacred Craft”:
Our sacred craft
Has existed for thousands of years...
With him, even without light, the world is bright.
But no poet has yet said,
That there is no wisdom and no old age,
Or maybe there is no death.
Presenter1:
The years go bycenturies pass. Thinkers, philosophers, scientists strive to unravel the mysteries of existence. But the most complex mystery of the world remains man and his soul. The answers to the most complex questions are hidden in the human soul; the immortal soul keeps hidden secrets.
Presenter2:
To break through to every human soul, awaken it from sleep, set it up for goodness, joy and rapture in life - this is the true purpose of the greatest sacrament of poetry.
The air is full of the passing thunderstorm.
Everything has come to life, everything is breathing, as if in paradise.
With all the dissolution of the brushes, lilac clusters
Lilac absorbs a stream of freshness.
Everything is alive with the change of weather.
The rain floods the roof gutters,
But the transitions are ever brighter than the sky,
And the heights behind the black cloud are blue.
The artist's hand is even more powerful
Removes dirt and dust from all things.
Transformed from his dye shop
Life, reality and reality come out.
Memories of half a century
It goes back with a passing thunderstorm.
A century has passed out of his care.
It's time to give way to the future.
Not shocks and revolutions
The path is cleared for a new life,
And revelations, storms and generosity
Someone's inflamed soul.
B. L. Pasternak “After the Storm”
Presenter1:
Rhythms, styles, poetic forms change, but mother, Motherland, love will always remain unchanged. So let poetry be filled with enchanting love magic for these concepts. And we urge you not to hide your feelings, as the bard Bulat Okudzhava said: “Let us exclaim.”
The song "Let's Exclaim" is performed
(music and lyrics by B. Okudzhava)
Akhmadulina, B. A. An ancient syllable attracts me / B. A. Akhmadulina. – Moscow: Eksmo-Press, 2000. – 528 p.
Akhmatova, A. A. Collected works in 6 volumes / A. A. Akhmatova. – Moscow: Ellis Luck, 1998.
Bunin, I. A. Collected works in 9 volumes / I. A. Bunin. – Moscow: Fiction, 1965.
Voznesensky, A. A. Collected works in 3 volumes / A. A. Voznesensky. – Moscow: Fiction, 1983.
Vysotsky, V. S. Did not leave the battle / V. S.
Vysotsky. – Voronezh: Central Black Earth Book Publishing House, 1988. – 560 p.
Evtushenko, E. A. My very best / E. A. Evtushenko. – Moscow: JSC “H. G.S.”, 1995. – 630 p.
Lermontov, M. Yu. Collected works in 3 volumes / M. Yu. Lermontov. – Moscow: IPO “Polygran”, 1996.
Okudzhava, B. Sh. Poems / B. Sh. Okudzhava. – St. Petersburg: Humanit. Agency “Academic Project”, 2001. – 711 p.
Pasternak, B. L. Collected works in 2 volumes / B. L. Pasternak. - Moscow: Fiction, 1989.
Pushkin, A. S. Golden volume / A. S. Pushkin. – Moscow: Korona – Print, 1999. – 975 p.
Fet, A. A. Smile of beauty / A. A. Fet. – Moscow: School – Press, 1995. – 735 p.
Tsvetaeva, M.I. Collected works in 7 volumes / M.I. Tsvetaeva. – Moscow: Terra – Bookstore, 1997.
March 21, 2019 is World Poetry Day. The holiday, which was established in 2000 by UNESCO, has become popular in just a few years. We offer a possible option for holding a holiday dedicated to Poetry Day in a kindergarten or elementary school.
Scenario for the holiday World Poetry Day for Children
Presenters start the holiday:
- Dear friends! Today we celebrate Poetry Day. From early childhood we hear poetic speech.
– What is poetry?
She is a combination of magical sounds,
Souls of excited dreams,
The torment of a proud mind.
The verse contains a tune familiar from childhood,
He has been known to all of us for so long.
And the heart, hearing him, trembles,
And the voice trembles again and again.
And the lines flow in succession,
They beckon, they take you away...
Then, following the scenario of the children's holiday dedicated to International Poetry Day, presenters They will talk about Pushkin's poetry.
– We become acquainted with the poems of the great Russian poet Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin in childhood. Everyone finds in his poetry something of their own, close and understandable only to him. Today we will talk about Pushkin's fairy tales.
Children read poetry:
There is a green oak near the Lukomorye;
Golden chain on the oak tree:
Day and night the cat is a scientist
Everything goes round and round in a chain;
He goes to the right - the song starts,
To the left - he tells a fairy tale...
Meowing is heard behind the door. The Cat appears in the hall.
Cat:
- Hello my friends!
The scientist cat is me.
I'm friends with poetry
I come to visit the children!
Leading:
- Welcome!
Cat:
– Dear guys, I want to invite you to the wonderful world of Pushkin’s fairy tales.
Close our eyes and repeat the spell:
“We know Pushkin’s tales,
We love it and read it very much.
We want to get into a fairy tale.
One, two, three, carabarim!”
“Flight of the Bumblebee” sounds and Mosquito, Fly and Bumblebee fly into the hall and dance to the music.
Cat:
– What fairy tale are these heroes from?
Children:
- The Tale of Tsar Saltan.
Cat takes out an apple, a mirror and turns to the guys:
– My question is very simple: What is the name of that fairy tale?
Children:
– The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights.
Leading:
– In my hands is an envelope with illustrations to fairy tales by A.S. Pushkin. Scenes from which works are depicted here?
The guys give answers by naming works of the poet they know. You can learn several short passages of these works with your children in advance, which they will read aloud.
Cat:
– Guys, you’re great, you know Pushkin’s fairy tales well, you’ve read a lot of poems by heart. Everyone answered questions well and completed assignments. Thank you!
At the end of the holiday for children dedicated to World Poetry Day presenters addressed to children:
- Dear Guys! Love and take care of our native language, love poetry, speak correctly and beautifully, do not litter your speech with rude and meaningless words.
Our language is beautiful -
Rich and sonorous.
That powerful and passionate
It's gently melodious.
He also has a smile,
Both accuracy and affection.
Written by him
And stories and fairy tales -
Magic pages
Exciting books!
Love, keep
Our native language!
