Every Wednesday we start the day with observational drawing and writing in our writers' journals. There's a fad for riddles going on at the moment, along with our usual passion for poetry...
The helicopter
by Francesca
The helicopter falls around and around
in circles
and flutters in a slight breeze.
It got rumpled
rain's sliding down the base of the wings
it cracks and crackles
in the breeze
fluttering downwards.
Colours
by Peta
There are colours
that nobody can name
it has patterns of all kinds
slippery like silk
it has some bumps
that can only be felt
they can't be seen
but they can be touched
the vampire teeth
want to hurt the people
the taste buds
want to taste some more blood.
The shadow's shadow
by Ella
My shadow has a shadow
and the shadow is me
we are exactly the same
but when he goes away
I am all alone...
Guess what I am!
By Mel
I sparkle
in the sunlight
I glow
the colours of the rainbow
I also can crack again
in any shape
What am I?
... paua!
I swirl around
like a tornado
I'm sharp
at the end and
I get fatter
at the bottom
at all times
I can hear
the light
waves of the sea
What am I?
... a shell!
I twirl
and twirl
around as
I get down
like a helicopter
I am light brown
and I have veins
that you can see.
What am I?
... a maple tree seed!
As I hit the ground
I go
thump thump
thump and
sometimes crack.
I can be found
nearly everywhere
in different way.
What am I?
... a rock!
As I fall I land in heaven and turn
from green to yellow to orange
to red and finally to brown
and lie there
but I can still
travel around the world.
What am I?
... a leaf!
Morning
by Luca
feet frozen,
cheeks tingling, zip tightened
hands shoved into pockets
I trudge up the alleyway
My hair flying back into the wind
Fuzzy figure
by Dot
It's fluffy like a toy dog
it's brown like chocolate
it's warm in my hands
it's fuzzy and fuzzy and
fuzzy!
Clock
by Dot
tick tock tick tock
it's a clock
now it's 6 o' clock
Untitled
by Dot
A smooth
rich caramel brown triangle
on my grey hard desk
stripes of light,
bright and white
looks like a yellow lemony colour
on the back
Untitled
by Aliya
one small cut shell
with a hole
shaped like the sea
one little shell with lines curved
like the calm sea
The frame
by Aliya
It's a mini frame of shell
as white as snow
sitting on my dull grey desk
and it looks magical
The shell
by Amelie
the wavy swirly pattern on the shell
pale orange, skin colour, creamy white,
a blob of colour on the beach,
plainly the colour of bleach!
Who am I?
by Tama
It's in the middle
but with more than one
it's very quiet
but only when told
it has a clown
that's upside down
but all of them
are really stars.
Who am I?
...M13!
Changes
a found poem by Joe
The north wind doth blow
Dragon smoke rain wind
who has seen the wind
to a red kite
windy nights stopping by woods
on a snowy evening.
Untitled
by Saoirse
the orange egg rubs against my palm
making me quiver
all over.
The flappy thing
by Mahinaz
the flappy thing is
if you throw it up
it comes down
like a helicopter thing
at the top
and it goes light to dark
and there's a circle on it
and at the bottom it is little
and beautiful
What am I?
by Jamieson
I look like gas
I live under the water.
I am tasty to eat.
What am I?
A piece of paua.
I am black and white
and like a stick.
What am I?
A tiger snake.
I am black and yellow
and I am venomous.
What am I?
A black and yellow frog
that is venomous.
Showing posts with label Ella. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ella. Show all posts
Wednesday, 18 June 2014
Wednesday, 11 June 2014
night poems | By Ella
The moon and stars
The dark sky is a blanket
the stars are holes
and the moon is a torn edge
that the birds disappear into
when the sun wakes up
it simply pushes away
and shines its morning shine
In the night
In the night the wind whispers to the trees.
In the night the bush animals snuggle into a bed of leaves.
In the night I look out my bedroom window and listen to the glistening trees...
And stare at the twinkling stars then snuggle down and fall asleep.
The dark sky is a blanket
the stars are holes
and the moon is a torn edge
that the birds disappear into
when the sun wakes up
it simply pushes away
and shines its morning shine
In the night
In the night the wind whispers to the trees.
In the night the bush animals snuggle into a bed of leaves.
In the night I look out my bedroom window and listen to the glistening trees...
And stare at the twinkling stars then snuggle down and fall asleep.
Labels:
Ella,
poetry,
writers' journals
Tuesday, 27 May 2014
Cross country day | by Ella
I woke up thinking it was a
normal day. Mum called, “it’s breakfast time, Ella!” I stumbled out of bed.
Charlie was chatting away about his lego ship.
“It’s cross country!”
I shivered.
I shivered.
“It… it… it’s… cro…ss…
country?!”
I picked the last blueberry
out of my bowl.
“Yes,” said Mum as I put my
bowl up at the bench.
After I had gotten dressed,
brushed my hair and was getting my shoes on I had butterflies in my tummy. We
arrived at school, did the roll, and got our bags on. You can do it! I thought
to myself.
The bus pulled up. The closer
we got the more nervous I got.
3 hours later…
3…2…1… GO! Suddenly everyone
zoomed past leaving me behind. 7…8…6…5…4! 4th! I have never run this fast before!
“Here come the bushes!” I was in the forest now.
I stumbled over a big root and I hurt my ankle. I kept on going. The air smelt
musty. I felt a pain going down my back. Then I saw a clearing and heard people
clapping. Tenth now. In a few minutes I was over the fence and had crossed the
finish line! I waited for Sophia and clapped when I saw her.
Wednesday, 2 April 2014
POETRY SLAM
On Monday we had a poetry slam. We were celebrating the fact that we've now had more than 2000 visitors to our blog, and combining this with a chance to share all the fantastic poems we've been writing lately.
Slam Poetry is a way to perform your poems for others. We also drew our inspiration from the Beat Poets, a generation of writers from the 1950s who used poetry to tell the world about their ideas. As well as some fabulous costumes,
we even had Beat-inspired food!
Slam Poetry is a way to perform your poems for others. We also drew our inspiration from the Beat Poets, a generation of writers from the 1950s who used poetry to tell the world about their ideas. As well as some fabulous costumes,
In the afternoon everyone had a chance to perform a poem - we'll post these performances to the blog soon...
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