Clap Hands for Hornsea

Out of the classroom and on their way -
“We’re off, we’re off!” said Poppy so pleased;
“We’re off’ we’re off!” said one and all....
As onto the tiny coach they squeezed.

Singing so happily and jumping about -
They’re on their way for pebbles to find;
The beach at Hornsea so productive -
To look for fossils, they have in mind.

“Here we are at Hornsea beach!”
Laden with trowels and all aglow;
Onto the sand they leap and scramble,
Up and down, to and fro.

Searching hard amongst the pebbles,
Through the litter and sand they prod;
“What’s this?” said John, said John
“Oh!” said Alice “A chunk of Cod!”

“Put it down! – so smelly!” said teacher,
“Out of the sea, now!” she calls:
Maisie smiles and splashes about,
She trips: into the water she falls!

Maisie’s soaked, through and through!”
“Fish and chips?” calls Tim, so cheeky.
“I am so happy!” says Poppy “so happy!”
“Seaweed for Alice!” says Brett “So freaky!”

“No! No!!” the teacher shouts -
“Do not do that!” she said to Brett.
“Pull it out at once!” she said -
“Down her back, so cold and wet!”

“I’m bored, so bored!” said Karl -
“Skim a stone across the waves.”
Said Brett sitting on the sand,
“Such a pity there’s no caves.”

“What is that?” Alice shouts -
“Lying there! - On the sand!”
“Miss, oh Miss, come and see!”
Around they gather, around they stand,.......

On the beach, amongst the stones
Shimmering and glist’ning by the sea,
An object awesome in beauty and brilliance,
Amazing, dazzling, they all agree.

In his hand Brett grasped a rock
He held it up for all to admire;
“From where did it come?” confused, he pondered -
 Now Brett exclaimed – “Such beauty inspire!”

Nothing like this, they‘d seen before.
“An ammonite so fine,” the teacher replied;
“A ‘spira mirabilis’, quite extraordinary!”
“A spiral so perfect!” She testified.

In his hand he held the fossil,
Around its surface he traced his finger;
An elegant spiral - it felt so fine,
Upon the shell he let it linger.

Brett who’s now so happy, so happy,
Shows Poppy, his find, so stunning and splendid;
“Time to go!” calls teacher so whacked.
All so sad the day has ended......


This poem was written to extol the educational value of a fictitious visit to Hornsea beach.  It is dedicated to the hard-working, humorous pupils of Year 6 (aged 10-11) in a (fictitious?) local primary school.

Children named in this poem are entirely fictitious; any likeness to anyone (asleep or awake) in Class 6 is entirely co-incidental (I think)……

Spira mirabilis and Jacob Bernoulli:

Spira mirabilis, Latin for "miraculous spiral", is another name for the logarithmic spiral. Although this curve had already been named by other mathematicians, the specific name ("miraculous" or "marvellous" spiral) was given to this curve by Jacob Bernoulli, because he was fascinated by one of its unique mathematical properties: the size of the spiral increases but its shape is unaltered with each successive curve, a property known as self-similarity. Possibly as a result of this unique property, the spira mirabilis has evolved in nature, appearing in certain growing forms such as nautilus shells and sunflower heads. Jacob Bernoulli wanted such a spiral engraved on his headstone along with the phrase "Eadem mutata resurgo" ("Although changed, I shall arise the same."), but, by error, an Archimedean spiral was placed there instead. (Wikipedia)