Rhyme and Poetry

We learned how to use syllables and rhyme in poetry last week. Together we wrote a fantastic poem. We wrote each poem with a partner and put it together to make one long class poem. The only thing we don't have is a title. Does anyone have any suggestions?

The morning started so quietly,
White and icy, filled with cold,
The soldier stands and shivers,
Remembering that he must be bold.

Sergeant Slipper fought violently,
And went and looked at the trench,
Hungry, he searched for some food,
There was someone there who was french.

It was really frightening for him,
He was bursting for water,
He was in such very very bad pain,
Crying for his lonely daughter.

I am on the battlefield,
I am living in the trench,
The trench is damp and dark and wet,
We love people that are French.

I am sergeant Spy the soldier,
I am the spy for our trench,
The French have come to help us fight,
We are fighting for the French.

Waiting to run into the fog,
On his head he wears a cap,
Sadly missing his family,
In his hands he has his map.

The soldier was in the deep trench,
The earth mixed with barbed wire,
The soldier was stuck in the mud,
He heard a loud gun fire.

Changing into his army clothes,
We were fighting he wondered why?
Outside there was a whizz-bang noise,
It must be the German spies.

He sat lonely on a stump,
Feeling homesick and tired,
Most of my best friends died,
Sad each time he fired.

He shivers around the trenches,
And he is feeling annoyed,
Hoping he gets revenge,
And the trenches are destroyed.

He sat on the muddy brown log,
His eyes wet and red with tears,
Thinking of bombs and people dead,
Are both of my number one fears.

He shivers in the morning,
Feeling tiny as a gnat,
Suddenly he hears something,
Yet another smelly rat!

It was very happy that day,
Time to get out of the trench,
We ate sausages in the trench,
And spoke very very good French.