The Treasure Chest The pick of the best poems from January to June 2004 Going Away by Georgina Barwick (aged 11) Climb in the car Boat Aeroplane Helicopter Train Bus Say goodbye with a hug Kiss Wave Smile And off you go Soar Ride Sail Thunder And I'll never see you again For years Weeks Months Gone forever. Boys by Chloe Smith (aged 8) Black haired boys Yellow haired boys Brown haired boys Mousy brown haired boys Bouncing boys Boys can be: Cute, sweet and red in the face. Boys can be: Ugly, fat and big. Boys that turn into beasts at night. You can get sporty boys, Boys that are lazy, All boys are scaredy cats, There's only one that's brave And boys can be silly and funny. But most of all the boys that I've seen are boastful and hairy. Many Sides by Amber (aged 12) Sometimes a person can Have more sides than you can count, One day they can be as Loud and frightening as thunder, And the next day they can be As cool as the ocean Or as calm as the air, A person can be as happy As a dog's tail or as Sad as a lonely book on Your bookshelf, A person can have many sides Peace by Megan Johnson (aged 10) Peace is like a snow-white dove, Floating along gracefully in the breeze, Calling… calling… Peace looks like wars ending, gangs departing, And all of mankind getting along. Whether it's Blacks, whites, or all in between, deep down, We're all the same. Peace is as delicate as butterflies' wings, Yet, as powerful as an ox. No matter how bad we are on the outside We all have peace on the inside. Only together can we unleash it To make the world a better place. The Silver Tear by Twilight It fell from the moon In the midnight sky The silver tear, The silver tear. The moon saw our world For the very first time It wept, The moon wept. It saw the pollution It saw the hate In our world, Our horrid world. It saw the deceit It saw the slaughter In our world, Our wretched world. The moon It saw The battle scars The shadows of time, long forgotten. The blood shed The tears wept It saw the pain. It fell from the moon In the midnight sky The silver tear, The silver tear. The silver tear, The silver tear, It fell from the weeping moon. Sing by Krista (aged 9) Sing for the freedom, Not for the kingdom. The Opposite Poem by Connor Fish (aged 8) Up is down Down is up Gold is silver Silver is gold Old is new New is old Shoe is boot Boot is shoe Fire is water Water is fire Send is receive Receive is send Dumb is wise Wise is dumb You is me and one more Me is you. Empty by Ryan Johnson (aged 12) Nada Zilch Zero Nothing Zip Naught The goose egg IT'S EMPTY YOU IDIOT! EMPTY! EMPTY! EMPTY! The World Without Sound by Eleanor Reader (aged 11) It was on a cold winter's night, Not that long ago, When the trees and rooftops Were covered in snow. The world was sleeping silently Under the watch of Ms Night. Except for me, I was scared of the dark And shook with terror and fright. Then it came, a terrifying beast With fangs and spikes all around It grabbed me silently, stopped me from screaming And dragged me off to the land of no sound. The land without sound is a peculiar place You'll know if you've ever been there. When thunder crashes there is no noise But people can creep up on you - beware! No clatter, no crash, no clap can be heard. No sneeze, no stutter, no shout. There's no talk, no laughs, no singing, no cries There is no sound about! Beware of this most silent land Ladies, men, girls and boys. Never ever enter here This land without any noise. Friendship by Kristen Andrews (aged 12) Friendship is like the breeze You can't hold it, smell it, taste it or know when it's coming, But you can always feel it and you'll always know it's there. It may come then go but you know it'll always be back. Clowns by Sarah Clowns How I hate them Funny noses Big feet Too much makeup Freaks… To me I'll probably grow up And marry one Figures The Sea by Pebbles Hall (Aged 11) The sea is an angry fisherman grabbing at helpless boats. He howls loudly over the foaming water erupting like a furious volcano. He is a murdering monster crashing the boats with rage. Prowling slowly along the sand with his big feet. Crunching the bone of the boats. Punching the water out of his way. He gobbles the boats up and clashes his teeth together. Sadness by Becky Spencer (aged 11) I am the feeling when you've fallen and grazed your knee I am the feeling of a bad memory I am the feeling when you're angry and filled with madness Yes, I am sadness. I am the feeling when you've been stung by a bee I am a feeling - the opposite of glee I am the feeling when you're filled with badness, Yes, I am sadness. Victory by Awate Hayet Serequeberhan (aged 12) My name feels like the sudden rush of victory as you cross the finish line in a race. My name reminds me of how Hamid Idris Awate started a revolution. My name smells like freedom as we finally won the great war and are a free nation. My name tastes hot and spicy like a well cooked meal celebrating victory. My name moves like a silent soldier behind enemy lines waiting to strike. My name sounds like a cry of joy. My name is Awate Hayet Serequeberhan! Mountain by Archie Leigh-Jones (aged 11) I'm ready to climb I'm ready to go I'll plant a flag And everyone will know I've climbed a mountain I've climbed to the top The only thing I should do Is try not to drop If I tell you it's not a mountain I just cannot bear If you find out That it's just the stairs The Speedboat by Olivia Griffiths (aged 8) I wish I had a speedboat Which everyone would like But I only have a scooter, A skateboard and a bike. We're Late by Javier Bale (aged 10) We're late, we're late, And my mum's still on the loo. We're late for school, 'Coz we're watching Scooby Doo. Chestnuts by Megan Fox When chestnuts are hanging Above the school yard, Spiky and hard. But when they fall bursting And all the boys race, Each shines like a jewel In a satin case. Brains by Philip Kappel (aged 10) I went to a scientist and asked what brains there were and he replied, There are big brains small brains long brains short brains dumb brains not-lasting-for-ever brains killer brains zombie brains ugly brains beautiful brains kind brains nasty brains naughty brains fighting brains biting brains soft brains hard brains rock brains clubber brains and a lot of blubber brains shopping brains drawing brains writing brains counting brains yellow brains pink brains red brains silver brains gold brains platinum brains dark brains light brains old brains new brains French brains English brains scientist brains teacher brains pupil brains writer's brains singing brains heavy brains light brains tiny brains huge brains Which brain do you have? Gel Pens by Javier Bale (aged 10) Gel pens, smell pens, only-find-in-hell pens, Gel pens, glass pens, use-your-ink-up-fast pens, Gel pens, cool pens, they-will-always-rule pens, Gel pens, weird pens, teachers-always-feared pens, Gel pens, bad pens, crazy-crazy-mad pens, Gel pens, ink pens, try-to-stop-you-think pens Gel pens, smell pens, only-find-in-hell pens Winter Comes by Olivia Griffiths (aged 8) Winter comes with a cold frosty night Winter comes with a snowball fight Winter comes with a beautiful sight Winter comes with a "button up tight" Winter comes with an icy morning Winter comes with a roadside warning Winter comes with children calling Winter comes with snow falling. The Philharmonic Hall by Jamilla Egeh (aged 12) First take a massive building. Sprinkle in beautiful lights. Add a golden hall with a lovely stage Roll out the red carpet. Blend in hundreds of padded chairs. Stir in a huge orchestra with their instruments. Pour in snack machines. Bake with a crowd of music lovers. Season it with a bunch of ushers. Top it off with a cultural city like Liverpool. A Recipe For the Albert Dock by Rachael Latham (aged 12) First take a sprinkle of light and a port in Liverpool, Then add a few people and a dog or two, Mix in a breakfast shop and you will have your morning. Stir in some high buildings and a ferry on the Mersey, Sprinkle in lots of business workers and some lunch, Season with a few students and you will have your evening. Now take some alcohol and a mad bunch of teens, Add a girl's night out, a hen night and a crazy club, Sprinkle with lots of loud music and you will have your night. Recipe for the Cavern Club by Lesley Kettyle (aged 12) First take some none stop chatter. Then add some serious alcohol. Stir in some inspiring R 'n' B music. Then sprinkle on some 80's dance. Blend in some legendary celebrities. Season with Beatle mania!!! Stone by Sarah Collingham (aged 9) Stone can be a boulder, looming and ready to fall from a mountain or slippery sand on an exotic beach in a foreign land. Stone can be a semi-precious jewel from underground or a jagged piece of coal upturned in a quarry. It can be buried deep inside the earth burning into liquid or falling down to our world in a torrent of hail. It can be glimmering brightly encrusted on a beautiful, golden, wedding ring or be scattered aside by a scurrying mole digging a tunnel to live in. Stone can be anything ranging from the enormous planet Jupiter, king of all the gods, to a tiny pebble, covering the last bit of space on my garden path. Whose Bedroom Is This? by Edward Harris Car keys which are not what they seem. A selection of suits fit for a king. A case of weapons and magazines. A big steady king-size bed. An electric shaver (latest model). A tie rack full of designer ties (to please the ladies). How to flirt volume 1-8 (needed these days). A medical kit in case of those little accidents. A box of broken watches and on the table the latest model. Gadgets for the wicked and bold Who can this be? James Bond Century at School by Lizzy Phillips (aged 11) My school's been here one hundred years, It's getting quite fed up, Of people walking on its floors, Putting litter in the yard. It wishes it was free, Without the boys around, To play football in the corridors Or trample on the flowers. My school's been here one hundred years, At least some things are older than my dad! Teachers by Alexandra Moran (aged 11) Keen Teachers Mean Teachers Make you eat your beans Teachers. Mad Teachers Bad Teachers Really, really sad Teachers. Rough Teachers Tough Teachers With voices that are gruff Teachers. Thin Teachers Fat Teachers Mad about their cat Teachers And wearing white spats Teachers. Cruel Teachers Cool Teachers Think they rule the school Teachers. The Night Sky by Rose Taylor (aged 10) The night sky is a curtain drawn across a window. The night sky is a monster taking over the evening. The night sky is a shepherd gathering up his flock of stars. The night sky is a black carpet laid across the floor. The night sky is a wall being painted. The night sky is a big black poster. The night sky is a very large pupil of an eye. The night sky is the sun's bed. My Pet Rock by Ben Dyball (aged 11) I once had a beautiful pet rock, and whenever I touched it I got a terrible shock so i put it back where it came from, the sea, and never touched it and left it be, then I went and found a new pet rock. The Journey by Katelyn Quackenbush (aged 12) The forest is a mysterious place. Spirits roam freely around. All the trees have the same calm face And mystical things are found. You can not search for what you're wanting. Let the wind guide your way. The spirits know where they are going, if they take you off the path and stray. The stars will shine bright in the night if you are lost or are afraid. The soothing words of the forest will comfort you until day. The struggles you may go through will wound you and leave scars. The journey will be worth it too, though the end may be as far as the stars. The spirits have said the end has a pay. Till I reach that goal, I will travel night and day. The World As We Know by Laurence Eastham (aged 11) There are times when the worst is worst, when the bad is bad, and when that life is life. There are times when people die, cry, and say goodbye to the world they know. There are people who change our future, shape it, mould it, destroy it, and these people we elected. Our beliefs show in different ways, whether old or young, it happens to us every day. People say there are only enemies not friends, maybe that's true, maybe not, but I know who I trust and that isn't rot. I try to rhyme though I am no good, I hope this poem will do better than it should... Little Miss Clogg by Charlie Ellcome (aged 7) Little Miss Clogg Sat on a log Eating a chocolate pie Along came a spider Who sat down beside her She punched him into the sky! Poetry by Sarah Williams (aged 10) Painting pictures with words Offering lovely images Every word holds a special meaning Timeless wonders of yesteryear Reeling reader in with bait Yawning reader sleep a deep sleep, dreaming of poetry The Canteen by Class 5K, Irby Primary School. The Canteen was a dungeon of terror, and we were the prisoners of war and all of the other prisoners, they walked in through the door. The smell of rotting cabbage wafted 'round the room, and the children came in marching, marching, marching, and the children came in marching, up to the canteen door. The canteen was so dirty, a dark and dingy place. The chairs were damp and mouldy, it was oh, such a disgrace! The burgers were so mouldy, as mouldy as could be, and the children stood there staring, staring, staring, and the children stood there staring, with horror on their face. The pizzas looked like cowpats, all covered up with hair. The beans were wet and slimy, just like a soggy pear. The carrots were so slimy that they felt just like a slug, and the children started moaning, moaning, moaning, and the children started moaning "This isn't really fair!" "The dinners taste like rubbish, the spaghettis full of worms. The cake is hard and crunchy - we've had bad food all term. We want to make a change here, instead of eating bugs!" and the children started throwing, throwing, throwing and the children started throwing, it made the dinner ladies squirm. City by Laura Eaton (aged 11) Why they go there? Why they go there? No-one knows For the smells that flinch their nose? For the fuels that lurk around? For the smoke that gets them down? For displeasure or disgrace? For the cringe upon their face? For the knowledge? Or the noise? Or the girls that walk with poise? Maybe they want to breathe in mould to freeze their mind or shrink their soul. Scar their heart? Maybe their lungs? Or to watch others speak in tongues. To see the buildings, swat the flies, breathe in all the toxic skies? Why they go there? It gets me down. Why can't we make a cleaner town? My Teacher by Sophie (aged 8) My teacher's name is Mr. Rees He likes to wear a fluffy fleece He gives us loads of work to do Maths, English and homework too. We like our teacher, he's really cool So every time we go to school We try our best to work hard for him Reading, writing and even gym. Writers Block by Laura Eaton (aged 11) Writer's block I've lost my flavour Any idea I will savour. Keep thinking, faster! No time to waste Please! Just one idea to taste! Brain's drunk dry thoughts all mixed anything to get it fixed. Brain's plugged in now I'm sane Start writing before I trip again! The Shower by Jon Norman (aged 8) Since my Dad put up the new shower I've been in there every hour All the water sprinkling down on me It keeps my body nice and clean When I turn the shower on I just feel like singing a song Sing, sing, sing along Happily singing my shower song. When You See by Rebecca Kaiserman (aged 10) When you see me You might think 'I look so pretty' Or 'You stink!' But that's how I look Not that I boast Because it's in the inside You should notice Whether people are nice Or whether people are mean It's on the inside That should be seen Vacation by Gianni Marasco (aged 12) When I go inside at summer vacation, it's definitely a celebration. the TV's on from night until dawn, my mind goes blank, it's almost gone. I go outside on Saturdays, I ride my bike or roller blades. I slip and slide and skin my knees, I go back inside, "Can I have ice cream please?" I slurp and lick and drip and pick until I have but an ice cream stick. My video games are on a lot I play them 'til my fingers rot. Those three months of no school are really cool, it's even better if you have a pool. The end of it is a big, big bummer so say good bye to that awesome summer. Science by Peter Phillips (aged 8) Science is fun Chemicals that change Ions and magnets Exciting experiments Navigating rockets Cosmic forces Everything is SCIENCE! Flowers by Kathryn Tiencken (aged 8) Foxgloves are pretty but dangerous. Lily Of The Valley smell so sweet. Orchids are exotic and are beautiful. Wallflowers cover like a rainbow. Edelweiss grows in the snow. Roses are red, pink, yellow and white. Sunflowers are big yellow and bright. Time by Laura Eaton (aged 11) Ticking forward ticking fatter, how will we know which tick will matter? Tick of life tick of death, Alas, a clock of my last breath Tick of next tick be late, one of which will hold my fate Time be horrid or time be gold, let time adjourn let it behold. The Snow by Shiza (aged 12) A cold chilly night I sit beside the fireplace and drink hot chocolate The Bone Bridge by Kate Scope (aged 12) The bridge of bone stands alone in the dark Waiting for the next soul to embark Upon the journey to the black swirls Of Hades, the Underworld. The bridge of bone has blood running under Mixed with lightening, souls and thunder The souls of the damned swim to their doom While in blackness, Cerberus does loom. "Happy to let you in, not so to let you out," Charon explains, ferrying around and about, Charon the ferry driver, transports the souls From the bridge to the heart, black as coals. The blessed souls cross the bridge in peace, For they know they will cross in one piece, The bridge of bone stands alone in the dark, Listening to Cerberus's daily bark. The Seaside Shell Haiku by Jade Carter (Year 4) The shell on my desk Is tiny, faded with dust, But still sings with seas. Water Poems (inspired by UNICEF day) Eyes Hold a Tear by Madeleine Clay (aged 11) My throat all swollen up, Drinking out of a dirty cup My eyes hold a tear, Not knowing what I am doing here Different people all around, Hungry, thirsty lying on the ground My eyes hold a tear, Not knowing what I am doing here All around me people are dying All around me people are crying My eyes hold a tear, Not knowing what I am doing here In fear. No Tears by Tom Cornell (aged 11) He sits on the side of the road, No pride in his eyes, And ev'ry morning when he feels no rain, He slowly starts to cry, But when he cries there are no tears, He has no water to spare, No water to drink, no water to wash, No water anywhere, He's half blind, he can hardly see, His eyes are dry and hard, The only thing, near him wet, Is the hard, cool mud, His skin is red and burned and hard, It's extremely dry, Until one day, he closes his eyes, And under the hot sun, dies, Not Everybody by Scarlett Squire (aged 11) Not everybody has clean water to drink Or to wash Or to clean their clothes Or to cook Not everybody has the energy to get it Or to lift it Or to carry it back Not everybody has the time to walk there Or to wait in line Or to walk back Not everybody is as lucky as us you know I Wish by Rebecca Corbett (aged 11) I wish that one day, I could run free , And explore the sea, See the best parts of the world, I wish that one day , I could have clean water to drink, So not to be ill, And be able to eat at least once a day, I wish that water wasn't so hard to find, And that my family wasn't so far away, In England? In Germany? Maybe even in Spain? I don't have any other wishes, I just hope these will come true… Just Water Would Cease All Our Pain by Hana Rudolph (aged 11) Oh, why don't the days ever get better? Why can't the clouds ever give rain? Oh, why doesn't this dry land ever get wetter? Just water would cease all our pain. The nearest pump, two miles from here, But too tired to walk anymore, Seen enough deaths to last me a lifetime, To tired to live anymore. A Fish by Dominic Hinde (aged 10) A fish has fun, A fish is free, A fish is as happy as it can be. My only wish, Is that I can be, As free as the fish that swims in the sea. My Family by Adam Powney (Year 3) My mum is a gorilla Because she is very tough. My auntie is a crocodile Because her skin is very rough. My uncle is an eagle Because he is a pilot. My sister is an actress Her favorite flower's violet. My dad is a cheetah Because he is very fast. My nanny is a sloth Because she is always last My brother is a monkey Because he always jumps up high But I am a falcon Because I like to fly. My Secret Box by Antonia Riley (aged 8) The bark of a dog I shall put in my secret box, With horses and ponies eating green grass, Who are leap over jumping fences. The inside feels like dog's fur, A soft secret feeling, As soft as the softest thing on earth. The outside is steel iron As hard as a jail bar, But as strong as a thick old wall. My secret box, full of my secret surprises! Mad by Jenna Dambrell (aged 9) Mad is red It sounds like screaming and yelling. It tastes like burning hot water inside. It smells like boiling tea in a pot. Mad feels like you want to be as mean as a junkyard dog. Canada by Lauren Crookall-Fallon (aged 8) Canada's beaches are as smooth as a person's face. Waves are as wild as stampeding horses. Lakes as blue as kingfisher wings. Mountains of snow as high as the clouds. Sky as beautiful as the rainbow. The cities as grand as palaces. Wildlife as we've never seen it. That's what it's like in Canada! But it could all be different... Trouble by Ibrahim Mohammed Farouk (aged 12) Punching a mate in school is like a drop of coconut, It delights you and makes you feel good, But what turns out next... After violence and terror, Trouble, trouble in different disguise, Echoed your name with no shame, First my teacher, Principal, Then my master and mistress, Who shall they call next? I Didn't, Honest by Millie Anderson (aged10) My baby sitter said that I blew up the hamster's cage. I didn't, HONEST My baby sitter said I ground your lipstick I didn't, HONEST My baby sitter said I killed the goldfish I didn't, HONEST My baby sitter said I tore up your favourite magazine I didn't, HONEST My baby sitter said I used up your perfume I didn't, HONEST Well… maybe I did. Happiness by Stacy Benedix (aged 9) Happiness is yellow. It sounds like children laughing. It tastes like honeyed ham on Thanksgiving. It smells like flowers in the sun. Happiness feels like smooth winds flowing across my face. Happiness by Rebecca Cheyenne Elliott (aged 9) Happiness is pink It sounds like the ocean waves touching the cool sand on the beach. It tastes like biting into a banana sundae and ice cream with a cherry on top. It smells like hamburgers grilling on a hot summer's day. Happiness feels like the world. The Fens by Natasha Hill-Tout (aged 11) The green marshy land, Dotted with daisies, Not a grain of sand, For the picture's all hazy, Grass stepping stones, And overgrown plants, You're all alone, and you're in a trance. Small earthy hills, Narrow winding streams, Left in your wills, Like never-ending dreams. Once you go in, I doubt you'll come back. For the fens hold a mystery That's never been cracked. I'm A Fish by Will Harrison (aged 11) I'm a fish, I'm a fish and I live in the sea I bet there is no one as happy as me I swim in the water through day and through night I shine under the moon though I produce no light The water is wonderful gentle and soft With that and my fins, I am kept aloft. Tear by Jade Beaty (aged 11) a tear is a leaky tap. starts stops whenever it wants. a tear has a mixture of feelings. starts stops whenever it wants. a tear leaks out. with a shout or a wail you just can't stop it. for when it strikes. its here to stay. so get used to it. and it'll go away. Sadness by Zack Terry (aged 9) Sadness is blue. It sounds like rain, perhaps the flu. It tastes like rotten milk flowing down your throat. It smells like chicken broth and trash. Sadness feels like your down, down in the blues. My Monster by Jack Booth (Year 4) What does a monster look like? Well...slimy and grimy, long and strong, enormous and NOT gorgeous and dotty and spotty and feathery and leathery and grumpy and bumpy and white and a big FRIGHT! That's what my monster looks like. How does a monster move? It staggers, it creeps, it stampedes and it leaps. It plods and it toddles It flies and it waddles It jumps and it runs It bumps and it strides It skips and it rides That's how my monster moves. Bones by Vicki (aged 11) Da bones are aching with different tones Doh re me fah so la ti doh They're in my feet so very low I can only feel with my big toe. The doctor said I only have a case of something called dancing. War by Georgina Barwick (aged 11) I hear the crash and I see the flames, And they burn a hole in my heart As I see the explosions light the night sky And they light a fire in my soul For war is not pretty, And war is not nice, But war is here to stay. Confusion by Heather Edmonson (aged 9) Confusion is magenta. It sounds like two people mumbling at once. It tastes like two mixtures of Mexican rice. It smells like two foods cooking at once. Confusion feels like touching something with no clue what it is. The Ultimate Child's Poem by Davis Pratt (aged 11) Let the teachers of the past, Drive their cars really fast, Come to school in a Porsche 911 GT3, Their car should cost a large fee, They'll be driving so very fast, They will never ever will be last, Let them, Lord, not buy red Polo, Or get themselves an old Corrado, Let them show no want to go slow, Let them show no car control. Let the teachers be funny and kind, Not be mean and keep us behind, Not be angry on our week off, Not always tell us off, Not have worse taste than us, (With a desire to ride on the old school bus), Let them please say 'yes' not 'no' Let them be like Mrs. Browne, Who honestly is a bit of a clown? The Simple Life by Holly (aged 11) A simple life Would be great No school, No homework No medicine to take. No put downs, No screams. That is what a simple life is. In my dreams. Who Could It Be? by Georgina Thomas and Holly Smith (11 and 9) A chill enters my spine As I turn the corner What will await me? My hands shake As I go down the spiral staircase What will await me? My lips tremble As I go through the door What will await me? A dark shadow edges towards me Who could it be? Snow by Katlyn Lancaster Snow Flittering and fluttering Beauty from the heavens Falls Silence by Rebecca Kaiserman (aged 9) That silence, noise That fills the room That silence - noise That lets your mind zoom Into your world And when that noise breaks Just one little noise Will make your mind an empty lake John Tom by Lauren Smith (aged 10) John Tom the teacher's son went to market for a bun bought a pack, hurt his back John Tom the teacher's son John Tom the teacher's son went shopping for a gun brought it back, shot a rat John Tom the teacher's son John Tom the teacher's son saw a sixpence while on the run fell on his face, stopped the race John Tom the teacher's son John Tom the teacher's son fell out of bed and hurt his bum fell through the floor, ran out the door John Tom the teacher's son John Tom the teacher's son got shot down by a gun and that was the end of John Tom the teacher's son Oh, by the way, the funeral went well for John Tom the teacher's son Bad Day by Sonja Nuhic (aged 11) Yesterday I had a really bad day, I got an "F" on my test and my cat ran away, I got bit by a dog and my parents only fight, My new teacher's really mean and NOTHING'S going right! I failed my spelling test by one word, one letter, But now it's night, and in my dreams I'll dream that tomorrow is better! Snowmen by Samantha Snowmen dance in the night But they still have snowball fights At midnight the clock strikes Then they start. Library by Nina V (aged 8) "Books, books, books As far as the eye can see." "What do you mean that's all you can see? I can sail the sea I can go to Disneyland I can go to France I could even take a trip to see Captain Underpants. If all you see is books You surely must be blind I can see everything Just inside my mind." Jack Frost by Jacob and Samuel Parker (aged 10 and 7) Icy fingers, icy toes, Where Jack frost goes, everyone knows for there he leaves a blanket of white, icy crystals in the night Solid ground, rigid leaves sheets of water where he weaves he shows no mercy, cold despair sprinkles ice-dust everywhere Winter sun, rising low sees Jack Frost down below Then he scampers, quick and away! But he'll be back another day. Not One Day by Dana Walshaw (aged 11) Sand between my toes, Cool water running through my fingers, I sit on a heavenly cloud, Waiting for my dream to arrive. A delicious breeze leads me to paradise, I open my eyes… The sun is a fiery peacock, Rays of feathers in flames, Overruling the evening sky. Beauty is at its nemesis. Reflecting in the peaceful sea, The pink painting is magical… Fireworks, with no noise, Pink icing and sprinkles dripping from a cake, The sun is setting. Nature is a wonderful thing, Creating the unimaginable… Again the sun has disappeared below the sea, And yet it never fails to rise again, Not one day to break its fantasy. What If? by Rebecca Kaiserman (aged 9) What if I could fly up high In the sky What if I could touch the clouds Before they drown of rain What if? Fostered by Kristen Pettigrew (aged 11) Being in a foster care home is fun. But it's not like being at home. I know because my two cousins are in the foster home And I miss them very badly. Not being able to see them is like two monkeys in a tree that lost their bananas. But this is worse. I don't care if I lose anything of mine as long as I get my two cousins back. It's like zooming up in the sky. But there is no clouds Or walking in the forest but there are no animals. I have never seen this happen but once and now it brings memories back from when my little cousin Brittney died. My two cousins were put in foster care . But the saddest part of my two cousins Was that their mother and father Never tried A Winter Morning by Maisie Calcutt (aged 11) The wind whispers to the trees, "It's time to awaken." The sun is a scoop of banana ice-cream, Cracking out of its shell Wakening with a soft smile. The clouds huddle together like squirty cream And thin for the mellow Rays of yellow. The snow is quiet, not saying a word, As soft as a polar bear's white fur, A cake's icing. The grass is not so quiet, The occasional crunch Of shoes on frost, As they try once again To become perfect blades. The hills are humming a melody Soft to the ears, Like candyfloss. The fresh crisp air brings scents of flowers, Fighting just one more war, as they shiver in the breeze. The world is awake. As Time Flies by Katherine Sutton (aged 9) As time flies, the world gets smaller. As time flies, love for the world gets bigger. As time flies we get older. As time flies, the world gets smaller. As time flies, we do too. As time flies, so do we Because that is how life goes. Senses by Tara Boyd (aged 11) The feel of darkness is a black cloak in the night's sky The taste of fear is like the shiver down your spine when something cold hits you The texture of mist is like a dark shadow when no detail can be seen The taste of a storm is a bright light flashing in your eyes The sound of a rose is a calm breeze on a hot summer's day And the scent of smoothness is like a spotless white piece of paper. In the Land of The Fairies by Imogen Giles (aged 11) In the land of the fairies there is a giant tall, And a little boy that is thumb-height small. There is a girl in red so meek and mild, And a forest boy who is ever so wild. In the land of the fairies a wicked wolf is, And an evil troll claims a bridge is his. In the land of the fairies a little man spins gold, And a wicked step-mother is heartless and cold. In the land of the fairies a girl loses a fine glass shoe, And in a poor family's back garden a giant beanstalk grew. In the land of the fairies a Snow Queen rules, And three bears go out to wait for their porridge to cool. In the land of the fairies goats fill a beast's stomach with rocks, And a witch puts a girl in a tower which she locks. In the land of the fairies there is a beauty in love with a beast, And a dragon's diet is a Princess made feast. In the land of the fairies anything is true, If only that this applied to the real world too. Waiting by Imogen Giles (aged 11) I just sit there waiting, I wait and wait and wait, The cuckoo clock sounds its shrill little ring, As I wait and wait and wait. The humming birds are drinking in the sweet nectar of the flowers outside the window, I wait and wait and wait The maid is singing a tune as she washes the socks in soapy water, As I wait and wait and wait. The dog barks as the postman posts a brown package through the letter box, I wait and wait and wait, Someone on a horse is clopping by, As I wait and wait and wait. Maybe it is pointless, Why I wait and wait and wait, But yet I am still waiting, For the person that I hate. Senses Poem by Wai San Wan (aged 12) The feel of darkness is a spooky ghost's shadow Floating past your whole body. The texture of mist is almost the same Except it has a gentle touch. The taste of a storm is bitter lemon, Angry, violent, furious. The sound of a rose is a river of milk Gliding through endless silk. The scent of silence is clean and clear, Washing the noisiness out of the air. And the smell of happiness is fresh with joy, Making your whole life blossom. Ode To A Thistle by Anna Owens (aged 11) Ode Ti A Thistle, Och, you look so bonnie. Though in the winter, Ya look a wee bit scrawny! Ode Ti A Thistle, Yir a part o' us Scots. Yi represent Scotland, We like ya lots and lots! Winter by Lucy Fielding (aged 10) Why does the snow form a blanket beneath us? And why does the ice make us slip and fall? Why does the wind nearly blow us over? Why do we have winter at all? What makes this time of year so cold? We're frozen! And what makes this lovely white snow turn grey? For what reason does it make our fingers go numb? Do we have to put up with this every day? When will it stop throwing hailstones at us? When we're completely buried in them? Will it stop then? When will the snow let us play on the road? How many weeks until Spring? Ten? Oh, now it is Spring, I'm starting to miss that weather, The way the ice made us slip and fall! Now I can't decide which is my favourite season, Oh why do we have to have seasons at all! The Jabberwocky by Evie Booth (aged 11) Jabberwock descaled and shinish, The galave slayer with the head. Made commemorative boots with glish, Slept with them on in bed. In his sleep he slowly transformed, Into an improved Jabberwock. When awake he yeeched, heamed and roarmed. Waking the town with shock. As they recognised the noises, Everyone began to tremshake. They perased him hard for hours, The blarned him at the stake! School by Bon-Bon Chen (aged 9) School is educational It builds up your mind You have to go to school Or your head will be hollow School is fun for learning It is like a home to me The teachers are kind They know what you need You make friends there You can run and play And sometimes learn music So come to school and learn today I Wonder by Rosalind Axbey (aged 12) I wonder what it is like to touch a cloud, To stand up on it and shout out loud. I wonder what it's like to touch a cloud. I wonder what it is like to be a tree, To stand there thinking all about me. I wonder what it's like to be a tree. I wander what it is like to be the moon, Humming my eternal peaceful tune . I wonder what it's like to be the moon. I wonder what it is like to be the sun, To be bright and happy yet have no fun. I wonder what it is like to be the sun. Jubanderwocky by Yasmin Shambayati (aged 11) Calloh Callay Wocky is slayed People of Frum come see today Gathering round the headless bird A squatreegus roar in the forest was heard The tum tum tree slakeeshed in two Out burst the jubanderwocky bostling through All three birds had blooged into one Jubanderwocky! screamed the people of Frum A body the size of a bliba baba tree The jub jub's head, why it was bigger than he The bandersnatche's mouth was a gaint cage The jabberwocky's head fumed with rage By surprise it kabooched itself higher and higher It breathed one breath that set the whole of Frum on fire Now all the people of Frum are dead Due to the stustillyness of that stupid kid I warn you now take care The forest of Frum is still there Take one step and you'll be scorched to bits The Jubanderworcky still lives Our Opinion About Caffloonnitey Onions by Jack (9 years) and Isobel Copeman (7 years) There's something beautiful about onions. Cricket ball Earth, core Flaky skin, moths wing. Onions - everybody cries. Isobel cries about everything. Jack, bite, scrumdidliumptios! Crieuiik, just like a tooth coming out. Isobel laughed till she cried. Useful onions. Vampires stay away. Lonely onions - they smell like onions! Stinging eyes, nose, mouth. There's something beautiful about onions. The Sea by Francis McNally (aged 9) The sea is rough. Waves crashing against the islands. Waves crashing one another. Then the wind drops to a calm breeze. Moon and stars reflecting against the swelling ocean. The sea is calm and peaceful. Waves gently lapping against the sandy beach. Cool refreshing waves float to the shore. Silently lapping upon the golden sand. I feel sad and lonely watching the gentle waves. Forest Fire by Eleanor Reader (aged 11) It sweeps across like an untamed beast The ruler of its domain As its mouth flickers upon the feast And it even attacks the remains With an evil laugh it sweeps over The great, towering trees. Over beech and oak, daisy and clover As greedily it feeds. It mocks the terrified humans around Sweating and trembling with fear. "You can't stop me, down on the ground! You'll have to come up here." But all the men are far too scared Of the treacherous, horrific beast So of course, the fire does flare Amongst the smouldering remains of its feast. Until at last, exhausted and drained The flame begins to die And all the fire fighters then find fame And search for an easier life. I Am Sometimes… by Anna Owens (aged 11) I am sometimes moody I am sometimes sweet I am sometimes honest I can sometimes cheat I am sometimes loud I am sometimes quiet I am sometimes shy I can sometimes cause a riot! A Recipe for War by Amy McCarthy (aged 9) Take 500 teaspoons of marinated hatred heat for several years Fill 2 cups to the brim with ignorance Mix with 50 spoons of anger Stir in thoroughly Take 75 grams of secrecy Sprinkle liberally over a cup of fresh revenge Add 60 cups of sorrow lightly cooked and mix in some selfish actions Take 17 salty grenades each with a crispy bullet and mix blend in 25 kilograms of pure greed melted in with some nuclear weapons Mix all of these ingredients together thoroughly Place in the microwave and wait Mixture quickly explodes causing death, sorrow and eternal pain. The Future by Joseph Kerry (aged 12) Grim and lonely, Bones and dust Strewn across the filthy ground While the blackish green fumes Drift through the open air, Poisoning and choking all. This is no alien planet This is our planet Earth A hot and dusty wasteland, No life is fit to live Upon this barren land Where nothing can survive With holes in the ozone, Letting in heat and scorching the world. This is no alien planet This is our planet Earth Now Mother Earth is crying, She's in so much pain. God created this world So we could live in peace And take care of this place But we have damned ourselves to a Hell on Earth. Wouldyou like to zoom back to the top?