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Poetry 2017

A Poet’s Dream I wander through this strange land I see many things Strange things That spark ideas Inside my mind I walk through it all The madness of the inner mind Never straying off course For if I stray I will not come back I come through it all And I write it down For all to see Alex Timans


In The Beginning In the beginning There was nothing But then the universe was made And life got a big shove in the right direction. In the beginning there was nothing and then ‌. There was Something. A single atom floating through the void. And that Atom duplicated and duplicated and then there was this... There was the Earth, the Earth was full of life and that Came from an atom and that atom could be anywhere It could even be in a fish Finlay Stevenson


Transformation Did you know that every six years all the cells in your body change? But they don’t just disappear they only… rearrange. Let’s say you’re in the shower or even in the bath And a molecule of water would like to take a different path So it drops out of your body and dives inside the drain And what’s the chance you’re never going to meet that drop again? Now the molecule of water is already in the sea And the water turns to clouds and falls back onto me. Charles Dawes


That Tree Is Me That wave right there Might carry the tear I cried when my mother died. After all, I ran to the stream to weep And watched the rushing water sweep away My sadness for that moment. I feel the sand between my toes Turn soggy as the cradle of my tear drowns The precious dryness, As the high tide swirls, Tossing the sacred droplet Through the cold air Into the abyss of green freshness Belonging to the weeds Maybe one day in years to come I’ll come back to see that part of me Was pure enough to grow a whole birch tree. I’ll remember that tree as a part of me. Lucy Pettifer


Autumn Haiku Gold leaves drifting down In a quiet Autumn breeze Past my clear window Alexander Parkinson

Fiery shades falling Leaves sliding under our feet Glass-like beads of rain Clancy Wild

Blood shot red berries Dripping water on a branch Heavily hanging Luca Harris

The sun rises like An extreme glowing cloud as The trees turn to blood Paloma Bargh


Winter Haiku Crystals of white frost Shadows on the frozen grass Creeping towards me Amelia Hughes

Climbing frame trees twist In the cold misty shadows Look like zebra stripes Henrietta Allpress

Ice like spiders’ webs Trees’ claws grabbing the last leaves Long shadows falling Tolly Gordon


Winter Winter tiptoes into my garden Winter walks his hand over my garden leaving a fresh layer of snow Winter has a hard heart Winter has a grim face Winter has crooked fingers Winter’s eyes sparkle like glitter Winter howls like a loud band Winter whistles through the garden Olivia Inglis


Winter The winter is a snarling wolf, Biting the ones who disturb him, Rewarding the ones who serve him With cold refreshing snow. But on a warm winter’s day, He cowers as the acidic heat Burns into his body. Ow, ow, ooow! he cries. On cold days of December He crosses his domain, Spreading like ice, Howling, howling all the time. And as the winter ends, His eyes shine with sadness And he slinks down and down, To places men will never go. Ben Smith


More and Less, A Dog’s Life More and less We do love our lives but We do wish we had more cosy cuddles. NO big bangs or fireworks going WHIZZ POP BANG! Or popcorn cooking POP POP POP!!! Nothing like that. If we listed down all things we’re scared of We would be here till chilly Christmas. Oh, and more W.A.L.K.S - you know what I mean And maybe if we are good, some strawberries and cream. Tabitha Pearson


The Dream or Not? I was sitting on the harbour wall. I saw some children with a ball. The seaweed scattered all around Like bubble wrap. I jumped to ground. I lay down on the golden sand And fell asleep with my head on my hand. I dived into the beautiful sea And saw a dolphin grinning with glee. Down, down, I went into the deep. I saw a shell I’d like to keep. I realised I was breathing fresh. I took a long relieved breath. I saw a stingray like a rug, A funny fish, it was a bug. But wait, was that a camera there? I took a pic of an eel’s lair. Down, down, I started to sink. My eyelids closed, I didn’t blink. Just then I opened my eyes. I was on the beach. I gave a sigh. Now I know it was all a dream. But suddenly I knew where I’d been. Right then I saw a camera there With a picture of an eel’s lair. Poppy Marr


The Freezing Earth She lies, looking up at her perfect sky, crying from pain and grief. Her eyes are glaciers, her tears watering the frail skin below. Trees grow freely on her, sprouting on her brows, embracing the life. Heated breezes pump from her inferno mouth. They climbed her forehead, stamped on her fragile flesh, Hacked out scars with their cold spades, Traded away her face for shiny copper, Which they had dug out of her crumbling cheek. If she were not frozen, she would cry till the floods came, Till her whole face was wet and refreshed with water, Till life began to swirl out of view, into the sea beyond, Till memory was lost and sand covered her. Ellie Beaton


Fishes As fishes swam around my feet I pondered what I will be in 100 years’ time I thought maybe a birch, maybe pine. Where will I be in 1000 years’ time? In the ground, in a test tube? Maybe I’m still alive. What will I be in a million years’ time? A carbon atom in a part of a car Or in the door of a house? Or maybe I’m still alive? George Fell


Escape You watch As family, Friends, Hopes And dreams Are destroyed. You wait For refuge, For hope, Someone to help. Nothing comes. You walk For miles, Hungry, Helpless. You are lost. You wander, Step over The borderline Into the country, Step back out again. You are not welcome. Not here. Not ever. Leela Kainth


Refugee Knocking on the edge of my future Like the cracking of an egg, My life was destroyed. Crying out oceans, lost and terrified, I sailed to find a culture And a family who welcomed me. James Chesterfield


Lost Corpse washed up on distant shores Blurs of hope Dreams of freedom Lost And never found Trapped Only the comfort Of barbed wire surrounding you Only gates stopping your dreams After all this time You are still in despair Gotten nowhere Rejected Abandoned Your plans Your destiny On hold Catherine Ricketts


Swallowed Up Sleep The sirens swallowed up my dreamy sky I tried to hold onto my blanket But the siren’s tantrum was too much The siren’s fit was dragging me out of bed The smell of smoke haunted my nostrils My ears were shattered Into miniscule pieces I didn’t have time to grab any of my stuff As I ricocheted down the stairs Anxiety took over my whole body All of it was made of darkness The siren was made of evil As we got to the shelter My whole body was surrounded by dark thoughts Silas Smith


Air Raid Swarms of devils with wings in the sky, Dropping fear and dissolution Onto the town below. And that was Just the beginning Alice Burbridge


The Dread of London Sirens killed our weary sleep and darkness approached A bomb went off above us It was like devils dropping death onto London Immediately calmness was turned upside down We stared in horror We couldn’t see anything but the light of fire The bricks on the floor made me feel Like the sky had fallen down Harry L’Estrange


The Gallery They stay against the wall, Lifeless To the unobservant, But there is life that remains, Left in the stroke of the paintbrush And left in its veins. The noticing will see the life that begins to rush, To the page where it was left. They see what it is, They are not bereft. It is not he who is lacking his Ability to see But his soul. Every picture that hangs on these walls, The ones with the heart, They don’t see all this as “just art”. They see this as expression. They see beyond the picture and the paint, They see past this to the painting, And what’s left remaining Is the soul. Lara Grant


Snowy The shimmering colours smudged into the skies, Bouncing the blue off the ice. How wavy textures create this moment, Captured with colour. The light fractures upon the soft fur, Building tone with every shadow. How each speck of paint, Is different from the next. How one still moment, Can create peacefulness. Emily Collard


Sunset Silhouette The sky is a watercolour, Black trees invading it, Like a pot of spilled ink. The watercolour sunset frames a squirrel, As it leaps across the blackened branches, Sees me behind my window, And flees. Peaches wash into roses that drip into lavenders, In a river of colour. In the foreground, rabbits dart across a sea of wavy grass Like an eagle in flight, In the background branches reach to heaven, Like hands outstretched. Heaven answers with rain, Flooding the watercolour, Smudging the silhouetted army. Beatrice Shaw


Light I fumbled some warm, golden light into a seed, I planted it in the depths of eternity, It glowed under its bed of burning fire, A white, constant glow. It grew to the four corners of the world Of its own accord. It kept growing and growing, Until it grew life. I guarded it, To protect it from darkness. Sam Simons

A Bottle of Light I open the bottle and light flies away Dancing around my house I run trying to catch it But always missing Knowing that one day it will be set free The light tries to escape through the window I close it just in time Bottle at the ready I leap forward and catch the light and close the lid I place it by my bed It disappears in the dead of the night Eloise Quantrill


The Solid Ice Lolly Open the freezer! Open the freezer! I’m desperate to get out! I’m solid like a stone Trapped in a layer of ice All alone. I’m stuck here in this suffocating wrapper. I want to be licked. I’m moaning, I’m moaning. Suddenly a warm wind. Light bounces in. I hold my breath. Will it be me? Will it be me? Anna Tomkinson

Marshmallow Marshmallow, O Marshmallow, Wherefore art thou Marshmallow? Deny not thy art in the fridge, For if thou are, Then get out fast for you are then Solid. Shall I heat your Hardened shell with fire? But if your name is true then be it so You should live as a marshmallow. Zoë Leighton


The Eager Jammy Dodger When is someone going to find me In this dark, dark wrapper? My pool of raspberry jam Is going old. So please Eat me soon. I would love to have A whopping great Loud party. In this smelly and Crooked cupboard no one Can hear me. The crunch of my biscuit And the squish of the jam. I would absolutely love To have at least One fan! Eliza Robson Brown


Build with a Beaver Build with a beaver In a streaming river As cold as ice Eat with a beaver On the bank of a freezing river Looking for slippery fish Gnaw with a beaver Through a hard brown log As strong as a nut Hugo Wells


Hunt with a Bald Eagle Kill with a bald eagle As rapid as a machine gun Glide with a bald eagle As sleek as the horizon Over the lapping sea Hunt with a bald eagle As sky high as a spacecraft Cruising upwards Dive with a bald eagle As steep as its thinnest scale In hypersonic mode William Mills


Africa Africa, a land of emerald green savannah and rocky hills Africa, a land of rippling rivers and squawking birds Africa, a land of bright parrots and short acacia trees Africa, a land of tall baobab trees and brown monkeys Africa, a land of colourful sausage fruit trees and wet watermelons Africa, a land of bumpy mountains and flowing lakes Africa, a land of busy palm trees and long plantain Africa, a land of dry deserts and fearsome golden lions Kate David


Bird’s Eye View As the eagle soared rapidly over the summer trees he saw A crystal pond sparkling like glass in a white winterland A tree trembling silently in eerie forests A spotted cow eating silently in a misty field A tiny mouse with a long way to go A cat watching calmly in the street Felix Emerson


Pheasant I strut over fields, wending my way, searching for insects. I fear cars and scurry to the curb as quick as my legs can take me. I am a king. I wear my velvet cloak beneath the open sky. Louise Porritt


Soaring In a classroom there I sit. By the window a blackbird sings. I stare and stare, look and look, Until my eyelids begin to droop. I drift off into the clouds, And there I stand watching the world. And as I stand watching the world, I feel the clouds fade away. Beneath my feet there is only air And then I fall into the sky. Down and down I twist and turn And then I feel I’m slowing down. The ground’s no longer speeding up, For when I look, my arms aren’t there. Instead of arms and instead of feet I have wings and sharp, bright claws I soar and soar through the sky. It’s wonderful: I can fly! But then it stops and I feel A little sadness, a little tear. In a classroom there I sit. By the window a blackbird sings. Olivia Howard 33

Let’s Take Flight Lying here on the top of a hill Drifting, dreaming to the height of heights, Where the winds blow strong And where things hardly go wrong, Melting away to the infinite sky. I’m swishing, swirling around the peaks Faster than any other could go, Quicker than the fastest river flow Quicker than a gun loaded with ammo That’s me, just going slow. Soaring over, under, left and right, Trying to seek fish that were out of sight. Then I see a movement, A shadow that was becoming ever bigger . In my mind I pull a trigger And feel my body give a snigger. Darting down to the deep blue Swooping, sweeping, I see a fish jumping, Peeping, creeping above the surface. It jumps, I swoop, I catch it. The slippery scales screaming, They won’t slip From my talented talons. Jack Shaw


The Blossom Tree My eyes once fell on those branches Which writhe in wintry wind. Their fair white blossom gives way to green That lives eternally. Adam Chillingworth


Cherry Tree Oh, my sweet cherry tree, I will miss your sweet smell And the way your soft petals fly. As I sit shaded from the sun up high, I think about you every day, How you dance to the beat of the wind And how you and the jaybirds play. I can tell you, I will miss you every day. Elizabeth Simpson


Ode to a Daffodil Oh daffodil, your beauty brings a smile to my face Oh, fragile flower, Oh flower divine You smell like honey fresh from a beehive You whisper to me with words of spring You make me light up inside When you glisten yellow in the sun’s rays How you reach so far and wide In so many different ways Oh daffodil, why is it so hard? My world is filled with words of hatred I never get a break, never get to stop As you do, contemplating the world In your still quietness, Waiting Watching. Harry James


The Trespassers The night was parched and oblivious And the moon gave off a harsh light, Which blackened the shadows of the trees, Kept those children out of sight. Shining from up in the heavens The stars looked sadly on, Helpless witnesses to tragedies That could never be undone. ...So they crept, through the darkened shadows And the inevitable would begin, When they flitted through silent trees Up to the door of the ghostly inn. To turn back would still have been possible; They had not stepped inside, Touched the belongings of the forgotten, Released the haunted tide. A rush came through the ghost-house And in the woods, a splitting crack Announced the fate of the trespassing children: Never... go... back... And they say on some nights you can hear them, When the shadows are dark and cold, The silence of forever children Whose souls would never grow old. Laura Galbraith


Dear Mother You’re the purple sky, before the sweet scented evening You’re the smell of fresh buttered croissant that I love to wake up to You’re the steaming hot chocolate, With cream and marshmallows which we drink in the cafe You’re the velvet curtains that hold me tight You’re the pink roses that scatter around the park When we go for walks together You’re the Saturday feeling of total relaxation You are the forget-me-not flower that comes up in spring And marks a new year You’re the summer, winter, spring, autumn, That makes the world go round Cordelia Bargh


Granny Granny I can remember your silky soft skin And the soft woollen clothes you wore I can remember the perfume you used to wear And how the bottle was always in your dressing table I can remember the sound of your voice And the way you once sang to me I can remember the teddy bears always waiting for us And how they would sit neatly on the bed where you put them I can remember the way you read to me And then I would read back to you I can remember the time you were suffering And I know you are in a better place I miss you but I know you are all around me And in heaven with god I love you, Granny Charles Turnbull-Hall


A Safe Haven The sheep bleat. Wind winds through the long grass. The rain is a child, Tapping on my back, wanting to play. A calm cold breeze floats easily through the air. This is a safe haven. Fields awaken. The moon dives down, Hanging to the edge of the night. Orange grass is lit by the sun. Silence falls as all stop to respect Its brightly beaming brilliance. Darkness falls off into the abyss. As the sun reaches up like a tree, The early rising birds tweet. The sheep bleat once more, As they had done many times before. Charlie Cobb


The Future? The future: A book, But now you are the author. It’s your turn now, You choose the words. A bubble In your grasp, Too scared to touch in case It pops? One touch and It’s all gone. The future Has a purpose. Do you change? Do you learn from the past? It’s nobody else’s future. Accept yours. George Hull


The Palm of My Hand My palm is like a world map, Paths running to a stormy sea, As lonely as the surface of the moon, Craters shadowy in the light of the sun. My palm is unique, an original tale Being part of me on life’s journey. Well known touches please my fingertips And notes fly through life’s rhythms, Like fish dancing around the sea’s currents. Hands held, big, small, rough and smooth So many more tales to tell of where they’ve been And what the future holds... Polly Casey


The Girl, the Boy, and the Moon The wind swept through her silver hair Blowing in out like a flag. The moon shone high in the sky And, with the wind blowing south, She began to walk. The wind brushed through his golden hair Blowing it from side to side. The moon shone bright in the sky And, with the wind blowing north, He began to walk. South, she ran‌ North, he ran‌ Until they met in the middle Under a radiant moon. And, she sat staring at him, And he sat, staring at the moon. Charlotte Rudd


No messages No messages. I live my life in my own world. No messages. No-one gets to me and I don’t get to them. No messages. Blank sheets of paper, no voice-mails, just an empty screen. No messages. I want to break free, I want to soar above the sky, but I can’t. No messages. Something needs to change or I’ll lose myself. No messages. Then something changes. 1 message. Arthur Smith


Message to Myself If I could talk to my younger self what would I say? Don’t be scared of the dark, Close your eyes and trust in your safe, familiar world. Dark means sparklers! Don’t be scared of toys with big eyes, They are designed to look cute and are not a window to a soul. Toys mean imagination! Don’t be scared of noises in empty rooms, Water pipes and mice are hidden but will never harm you. Noises mean investigations! Don’t be scared of school, Another place to learn about the world around you in wonderful ways. School means inspiration! It doesn’t matter who sits in the front passenger seat of the car, The view’s the same. Early morning arguments will darken everyone’s day. It doesn’t matter who has the biggest portion of cake, They taste the same. The bickering over this treat will leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. It doesn’t matter who gets through the door first, You‘ll all fit in. Showing kindness to others feels better than getting to the front. It doesn’t matter whose turn it is to set the table, You all use cutlery. Family meal time is for communicating with those who love you so help get ready. I’m not very good at taking advice from others. Maybe I’ll listen to myself. Ed Kirker 49

When I Grow Up When I grow up I want to be... An explorer, exploring the unknown. I want to explore on the moon. The boring things are the things that are known. I want to explore forests and swim in lagoons, To find the things hidden in the shadows, Find the things lurking in the unknown. I want to explore in caves buried underground, Find the things that have never been found, Explore the oceans, explore the seas. I want see the things that have never been seen. I will ask you just once, Will you come with me? Johnnie Rudd


Profile for St John's College School

Poetry Anthology 2017  

A selection of poems written by the pupils of St John's College School (www.sjcs.co.uk)

Poetry Anthology 2017  

A selection of poems written by the pupils of St John's College School (www.sjcs.co.uk)