Poetry 2018
The Explorer I once knew an explorer He wanted to explore the unknown To explore in caves that moan He said the boring things are the things that are known He wanted to explore forests and swim in lagoons To find ancient objects inscribed with runes To discover things lurking in the darkness Explore in caves buried underground To find the things that have never been found Explore the oceans, explore the seas He wanted to see what has never been seen. He asked me just once: “Will you come with me?� Johnnie Rudd, aged 12
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Africa I close my eyes and see A shy gazelle trotting as if prancing on clouds A huge ostrich racing after its egg A mountain towering over the plains I reach and I touch Smooth scales of a lazy lizard The coolness of the clear blue lake Dust from a stampeding zebra herd I listen and I hear A flapping flamingo squawking A weird warthog rustling through swaying trees I take a breath and I smell Fresh elephant manure Sweet wheat in the flat fields. Daniel Wicks, aged 8
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Cornwall, Brea Hill In a nervous inlet of land The retired soldier stands mighty and strong, A landmark that overlooks the timid bay and protects its territory. The long snaking paths hug the small mountain, Wild flowers dancing to the old hill’s lullaby. The hill is always quiet and peaceful, Dominating its landscape. It sighs at the incoming tide, Knowing that the spraying waters will soon grow stronger. It has always fought against the blinding wind And the lashing sea. It is tired and old like a wilting flower. One day it will fall. But old soldiers never die, They simply fade away. Elizabeth Simpson, aged 11
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Dancing Ledge The sun gleams on the cliff’s face, Piercing the water’s deep green eyes, Choking the water’s gripping cold, Never to release its hold. The seagulls swoop overhead, Miles above the deep sea’s bed, The sunset looking a rusty red. The rigid rocks peering down, On the children below who love to clown, On Old Harry Rock cliff’s ancient crown. Swimmers float in rings like charms In the water’s deep green arms. James Buttery, aged 12
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Until I Saw the Sea Until I saw the quiet waves I had no idea that wind could move over the sea so peacefully I never knew that the sweaty sun could destroy a sea into blue splashes I did not know that the sea is breathing in and out whilst we are having fun Johnny Umdasch, aged 11
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I Remember Henry, I remember when you saw me lying on the stony beach I remember you watching me as I sat as still as a fox I remember the bumpy rocks thundering against me I felt excited when you gently lifted me up I giggled as you put me in your prickly pocket I felt safe with you But I miss the sweet sway of the wind back at the beach I used to dream about going back but all that matters is that I’m with you. Henry Roach, aged 7
Do You Remember? I remember when your warm hands touched me I watched you as your delicate feet crunched on the sand I listened as you sang a lullaby I was frightened when you left me I giggled as you flung me like an elephant I felt happy when your hands touched me I miss the beach I used to dream about the sand. Amelie Kirk, aged 7
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I Remember Kangqi, do you remember when I was on the high wooden brown shelf waiting to get picked? Did you watch me as I trembled and wobbled as your big elephant hands came and grabbed me? What were you thinking when you were proudly holding me? Did you think I was the Queen shaking hands with you? Did you gasp as loud as crackling thunder when I tried to wriggle like a worm to get out of your tight grasp? What were you feeling when I tried to escape your brown leather uncomfortable bag? Do you miss finding me in the gift shop in Canada, feeling all of the joy when you found me? Did you used to wish to go back to Canada to find new shiny rocks? To enjoy climbing hard tall mountains, making crab memorials at the sandy beach and catching crabs? Now that you are here with me, do you like looking at me with my rock friends and showing me to your friends? And do you like my cuddles? Kangqi Gong, aged 7
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Dreaming
After W B Yeats
Soon I will go there In my dreams, midnight’s Spell descending, blanketing all cities, and stars a-glimmer. I will hide there and Wait until noon, In the peaceful silence, a Secret freedom, and the purple Half-light will glow. I will sit there, and In the evening My mind will be full Of peace and of Birds flying, of linnets’ Sweeping, soaring wings. Susanna Millhouse, aged 11
Wings
from The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I walked around and Felt the evening’s Breeze and the full Pleasure of Being alone. It is the Song from the linnet’s Beak that brings me imaginary wings. Jaylen Cheng, aged 11 9
After “Invictus� by W E Henley We skipped through the fields and beyond, Wishing never to stop. This was the place of our hearts. This was our place To forget about the worries Of the past, the place to let go of our wrath, To become kids again and To smile and shed no tears. Jemima White, aged 12
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From the Back Seat Hay spilling over the road Horses grazing in gleaming green grass A runaway dog leaping the fence An ice cream van being left behind A family blurring as we speed by An abandoned camper van taking over the road Cars being demolished by a mouth of darkness The open mouth racing nearer A traffic jam grumbling along the bridge Finally reaching our red brick house Covered in ivy, covered in moss It may be dusty, it may be dirty But there is nothing better than home Home sweet home Emily Lindsay Clark, aged 9
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The Dancing Bear It was a scorching June day when the bear started to dance. It was not quite what we had expected. There was silence. My heart ached Because all I could see in his watery eyes Were far distant forests and soft white snow. As the dance concluded, I slowly crept towards the crying animal. I lifted my hand and gently stroked his ragged fur. It was not smooth; it was hard and dry; Dust was falling from it. He lay on the concrete ground and closed his big, round eyes. The keeper strode towards the bear With a copper key in his dusty pocket. We stared hard with hope. As he wandered into the old wooden school hall Through the large wooden doors For his hot cup of welcoming tea, He unknowingly dropped the shiny copper key. I carefully picked it up with curiosity. We all stood in silence, just staring at it. We could free the bear! And so we returned him to his family In the far distant forests and soft white snow. Kate David, aged 9 12
From a Bird’s Eye View As the owl hovered silently above the misty field, he saw A calm river flowing down the rocky hills A plump juicy mouse scuttling slowly across the frosty fields A wheat field brushing snow off its brownish teeth A group of squirrels having a feast of plump conkers A frozen waterfall, its glamorous icicles dangling down to the frozen pond. Angus Crichton Stuart, aged 7
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Giraffe One sticky tongue One whipping tail Four bony legs Graceful elegant proud Inquisitive and fast Neck like the Eiffel Tower Tallest of them all. Nico Clarke, aged 8
Elephant One tiny tail Two tremendous tusks Two huge ears Eating, bathing, plodding Crinkled and muddy Ears flapping like the national flag The advisor of the jungle. Vivian Knight, aged 8
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How to make an African wild dog To make an African wild dog Take forty two razor blades to form The rows upon rows of menacing terrifying teeth Put two turbo engines linked up to the metal legs The wild dog’s legs are as strong as boulders To make the body take a small tank shell Place it on the top of the legs Place five hundred brains inside its shell To make the claws take twenty blocks of granite Sharpen them with a hedge trimmer. Noah Roach, aged 8
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The Fox Inside the fox’s paw the ragged forest Inside the ragged forest the fox’s fang Inside the fox’s fang the heartbroken doe Inside the heartbroken doe the broken family Inside the broken family the hollow trees Inside the hollow trees the skin of a squirrel Inside the skin of a squirrel the fox’s fang Inside the fox’s fang the sparkling night sky Inside the night sky the fox’s eye Inside the fox’s eye the North Star Inside the North Star the fox’s paw. Chloe Ridley, aged 7
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A Leopard is a Sunset A leopard is an elegant sunset Catching her prey with no regret Fiery, brave and bold, Noted by her fur The clouds are the unique markings That define her With her soothing amber eyes And chalky white teeth Days end in the sweltering sun As she snoozes underneath. Pink for her tenderness Orange for her happiness Red for her anger Blue for her power Purple for her wisdom Ruling her own kingdom In the short moments she’s awake She hunts her victims Then lies down and dozes Until the daybreak Amelie-Grace Nair-Grepinet, aged 10
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The Night Sky The night sky is an inky black horse Silent and soft He gallops through the clouds With his lashing mane and silky ears His eyes weep tears as The wind howls slow and loud Ruffling the velvet clouds But when the vicious storm hits He leaps to his feet and bucks and spits The moon twists and swirls Shining through the dark like silver pearls But when we’re asleep the sky has secrets to keep He sweeps you up and takes one giant leap To a wondrous dream To gleam and gleam Cosmo Benyan, aged 10
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The Moon The moon is a white rhino. There are craters on his back. In his cave of darkness His eyes are deep and black. He has scarred, scaly legs And his back is flaking too. He travels round and round the Earth, Around our Earth so blue, Wandering through the universe, So dark, so deep, so true. And when it’s time to sleep The sun opens the gates. Through the door of moonlight A bed of stars awaits. Eleanor Pottle, aged 10
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Autumn Autumn is a leopard Lurking in a tree It pounces down on you and covers you in leaves It sleeps during the summer While it gets ready To pounce down on you It senses are as quick and sharp as its crunchy leaves on the ground It thrives in the cold, bitter days at school It gobbles up the joy of summer Before it pounces on you It stays up in that giant oak Or in that crabapple tree Gently winding up its tail Waiting for a brisk breeze Then it pounces on you When the sun is as orange as the Savannah The sky has that only-in-Autumn tinge of purple It’ll wait till the birds are singing To pounce on you Leo Moore, aged 10
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Autumn Haiku Leaves rustling gently Small toadstools low on the ground Gold spiders scuttling Charlie Froggett, aged 8
Strong sad light peeps through Tangled trees’ veins on sharp leaves Just like an old hand Daniel Wicks, aged 8
Red bronze and brown leaves Flickering fire dressing the trees Like a cloth of gold Vincent Sprik, aged 8
Bark of fallen tree Branching cracks like trickles of Frozen waterfall Federico Di Franco, aged 8
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Through unsteady breeze Red and gold leaves fall gently Off rough barked trees Lucas Hobson, aged 8
Repetitive tweets, Snapped branches, broken pine cones, Beetroot coloured leaves Hugo Lauze, aged 8
Crispy crunching leaves Like skittles covering damp soil Sky is silver silk Eliza Robson Brown, aged 8
Gentle silver light Moorhen flapping in a stream Silhouetted trees George Ducker, aged 8
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Winter Dawn A hedgehog turns in her sleep, The leaves rustle softer than A gust of wind on midsummer’s day, But in the barren desert of This winter night one breath Is like the clamour of a thousand Voices. A squirrel scrabbling at an Acorn, one acorn, forlorn, Alone, the last of its siblings. It could become an oak tree, Which children would play under, Grow under, but the squirrel Is hungry, he must eat. A girl opens her door, looks out At the pristine field, all hers. The sun’s first rays peek over the Horizon. The marzipan snow glistens Pink in the dawn. Running across it She crunches out footsteps, Breaks the metal-hard silence. Hannah Wicks, aged 11
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Winter Winter touched the tree with its feet Winter blew the icicles to the ground Winter danced all the way here Winter wrapped me around with cold Winter roared like the freezing wind Winter’s breath is freezing I felt winter coming this way. Rayyan Mussa, aged 6 Winter touched the sparkling moon Winter blew frost onto the wavy trees Winter danced under the moon like a silver ballerina Winter wrapped my in a soft cold blanket Winter held me like an angel. Megan Munro, aged 6 Winter touched the snowy trees as cold as icicles Winter blew the wind away from himself Winter danced around all the snowy trees Winter held me up to a wall of cold Winter roared like a strong tiger Winter scratched all the trees like blades Winter’s fingers touched a snowy lamppost Winter’s breath was cold and icy I heard winter howling at the top of his voice Hector Douglas, aged 6 25
Winter Mist The winter mist Glides, as silent as a Ghost, alive But dead, Emotionless But weeping. A drop of water Breaks the invisible Barrier between Time Space Worlds Hope Loss‌ That water will forever Be lost in a world Invisible To the naked eye, A world no human could reach A world A land A universe Of peace. Maybe One day That droplet and I Will be one. Vera Edgington, aged 11 26
Christmas Day Refugees Struggling into the car on Boxing Day morning, The most depressing day of the year. The look on our faces is a warning. Where we are going is a place of no cheer. “Hurry up!” Mum yells, As we stumble bleary-eyed, Heads ringing like church bells, Suitcases and droopy tinsel beside. With remnants of Christmas holly, Off to Granny’s we are shoved. Our mood is far from jolly As we leave the toys at home, unloved. I try to not think of the green ugly sweater Waiting, with care, to strangle me tight. I have other things to do, much better, Than driving to hell at first light. I wonder as despair takes over my brain. Mary and Joseph were condemned To journey, to pay their taxes, All the way to Bethlehem. Imogen Beaton, aged 12
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Metaphors I’m a riddle of a day I’m a gallon of dropped ice cream The knowledge of an ending A popped balloon A maze without an exit And a maze without a centre A constant insult Innes Lapraik, aged 11 I’m a riddle in seven I’m closing in behind you As the sun arcs to its peak I’ll leave as the moon hikes up Into the mountain of stars Dark in day, invisible At night, I am still always There just in front of behind Audrey Galbraith, aged 11 I’m a riddle in seven The end of a long circuit An extra hour in bed I’m the last mug of coffee I’m church bells which are ringing A roast in the oven I’m an early night for all Nella Porritt, aged 11 28
The Dinosaur Under the Shed There he was: A boy kneeling on the grass Peering under the shed. His big, blue curious eyes staring at me! Gazing at my dinosaur features. He fed me popcorn and butterflies, Built me a nest from an old coat and a nice cosy bobble hat As warm as a hot water bottle. As the days passed, we began to play. I perched on his shoulder As if I was a parrot. I liked his brown scruffy hair And I liked it when he tickled me Under my chin. By now l am way too big for my nest. At night I chase spiders and Stride around the garden trying to fly, My wings flapping As fast as the speed of light. Tonight after a big feast of popcorn and butterflies I start to flap my huge, scaly wings and‌. I fly! Goodbye little boy! I will miss you! Henrietta Allpress, aged 9 29
Similes Bang like a drum As exciting as an exploding star. Florence Wicks, aged 5
As loud as a lion As big as a tear As colourful as a rainbow As big as an airplane. Alice Labruyère, aged 5
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Jealousy It’s hiding in their bloodshot eyes A bothersome kazoo against a magical harp It’s hiding amongst those spiky brown conkers Longing to fall And crack And reveal their shiny destiny. Seb Newitt, aged 11
Confusion I watch the junctions, Roads disappearing in all directions. Colours whirl around me, Like a tornado ready to burst. Low pitch to high pitch, The junction filled with sounds. Rusty metal of the sign, The smell makes me feel faint. Which path to take? Confusion of the road to take. Henrietta Newble, aged 11
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The Beckoning Ocean The ocean calls to me, I hear the slapping waves. In the water I feel free, The ocean calls to me, As I sit beneath the fig tree, And I gaze at sea-made caves. The ocean calls to me, I hear the slapping waves. Liliana French, aged 12
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Wave Her touch unpredictable, Unseen, unheard, Like dusk sliding into morning. Her clear blue-grey eyes Stare into your soul, Revealing guilty secrets, Making you uncomfortable. Her breath a whispering breeze Unsettling the lonely trees. She carries a cool jar of salty air, Stirring up forgotten memories. She rushes up the undisturbed beach, Then recoils, quickly unreeling, like a ribbon. Isobel Standley, aged 12
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Cloud As it glides slowly and elegantly across the sky Its countenance gives nothing away As it moves onwards It can be angry And will rage Or it can be calm And watch over the terrain Clouds see many things From skyscrapers to rivers As they look down Like quiet kings They can be loud And will groan Or they can be quiet And live life alone. Inigo Cunningham-Reid, aged 10
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Clouds The clouds are beluga. I watch them Speeding across the blue sky Diving in the blue. Dancing through the sky, Great herds of beluga, Sometimes slow, slow, slow, Yet sometimes fast, fast, fast. On cold winter days, When the sky turns dark, They dive beneath the surface Of the greying ocean We call the sky. But on warm spring days They burst out from the blue, Whistling their jubilance At swimming free in the warm air. George Shapiro, aged 10
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Flowers The radio is silent, listening to the air, The dripping tap mocking quietly, The laugh echoing up the stairs, The scraping of the chair, gone. You are no longer here to help me, To help me with my pain. You are no longer here to hold me. You have left that hole inside me. The walls are crumbling to the floor, The dark dusty floor. Your cup is now empty, leaking nothing more. The empty stillness. Nothing is alive. I cannot open my eyes To the world which I belong. I can no longer go outside Or look out the window At the flowers, and the garden That you tended and looked after. Now they are dead and gone, I am so sorry. Cordelia Bargh, aged 11
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Death Creeping across the hospital, I see him on his bed, He knows I am near. I am being drawn closer every second, Like a moth to a candle, I creep closer to him, And reach out then grab him, I yank him out of his body, He struggles then is still. Elyas Borno, aged 10
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Riding Out The morning birds call And the long grass brushes your ankles Grass damp from the gentle spring rain Colours from the dazzling sun And a swishing tail as the flies swarm around The sit, the change in speed As the hill approaches Refusing at first but eventually Giving in to the three strides As the landscape becomes a blur The only sounds are the heavy thuds And early birds finishing their morning songs Before flying away As the bushes shuffle in the wind. Poppy-Rae Murphy, aged 12
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Courage
After Deborah Alma
I’m lonely sometimes When I lock myself up, I Feel that my doubts grow I need time to go over things I will break down the walls in My Mind I need courage, so Fear and doubt scamper away fast Finally I can untangle the knot that Was growing at the back of my Head The bully spins I make my choice and My hand falls Now the insults bounce off Jamo Morrill, aged 11
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I Opened a Book I gave my book a confident look, And in I had to go. I’ve left my family, friends and pet rook, And I’ve happily left my foe. I’ve met a lion, I’ve tamed a tiger, I’ve sat on an iridescent star. I’ve fought in an army, and became a fighter, I’ve travelled miles, near and far. I held up a book and in I ran, The characters and I had fun. I played with a whiteboard, I met a bad man, And we sat on the sand-coloured sun. I left the book. Missing my tale, I am now back in my home. I will always remember that I didn’t fail, And now I am not alone. Flora Harrison, aged 9
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Wishing Star I watch all night Watching for wishing stars Wishing for watching stars Staying awake till morning light Trying not to drift off Worried about missing it As my attention shifts Then it catches my sight My eye catches it Shooting past at speed Bright in the night light And I make my wish Pippa Watkins, aged 12
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Poems are made by fools like me After Joyce Kilmer
I write poems. They are Made To look like they are by Professionals. But we are utter fools. I like Messing around at my desk. It pleases me. Levin Rainey, aged 11
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