Poets and Authors

Stonehenge  Written by Joshua S  Y5
Fog rolled amongst the silent menhirs. The orange sun was vanishing from the bright turquoise sky and the greyish clouds drifted in to form a dark, menacing, roof-like canopy over Stonehenge.

There was a flash of red light and a hooded figure, dressed entirely in black, appeared and began walking over to the great stone circle. He reached it, muttered something under his breath, and the stones started to move. They lifted themselves up and flew into an arch. The man briskly walked into the arch and disappeared. The stones flew back to their places concealing the entrance to another world.

 

Dragonfly    Written by William C. Year 2
Dragonflies shimmering in the sunlight,
Dashing past, dodging their enemies,
Flying fast through the sky.

The dragonfly,
Like a flash of emerald lightening.
The eyes like gassy Jupiter,
Wings like oval webbing,
Spotty like a giraffe

Dragonfly.

 

The Snail  Written by Nina B. Y2
The slow snail slithered slowly along a green, damp and shady leaf.

He searches for delicious food and carries his flowerpot home.
He leaves a shimmer of slime.

 

The dragonfly  Written by Bobby B. Y2
The dragonfly glows in the night,
Its transparent wings hover like a helicopter over the green.
They can dash to flowers,
Their wings are like spun glass.

 

Macbeth on the Heath   Written by Jasmine L. Y5
We rode onwards, the sky becoming cruel and black, limiting our sight. Lightning struck the heath with its daunting spears and thunders voice boomed across the land. A dark mist grew; it became a sea of bewilderment.

Alarming noises bombarded my ears; wolves howled through the strong winds, foxes yelped, alarmed by our presence. The silhouettes of bats fluttered against the silvery moon. It seemed to be an unreal scene, made of paper and ink.

Our horses reared up, their legs in the air, kicking out in terror. Mud sprayed my feet, freezing them through my boots.

Fighting the fear around us, Banquo and I rode forward, deeper and deeper into the misty heath.’

 

The Battle at Birnam Wood  Written by Bea H. Y5
In his castle, stony grey,

Stands Macbeth,
Blood-stained King,
All in armour.

The time has come, it’s battle day.
Stands firm as an oak tree,
Rooted in the ground.
Until the wood of Birnam,
Roots uprooted, moves silently,
Without a sound.

Soldiers,branched like trees,
Leafed in green.
A mighty army,
All unseen.

And now Macbeth finally knows,
The witches lied.
Fear swiftly grows.

He charges out,
A roar of rage,
Like a wounded beast,
In its cage.

Slashing, slicing, clawing,
At an enemy he cannot see.
Snarling, gnashing, gnawing,
His eyes stare terribly.

His soldiers turn,
They run, they flee.
They fall in rows,
He sees them drop like dominoes.
And he sees MacDuff appear.

Fear like a poisoned dart,
Strikes him in his very heart.

See him shiver,
Quiver,
Quake,
He knows he’s lost,
There’s no mistake.

 

An Interview On Drinks!   Written By Flora B.  Y5
Some people like juice, coffee and tea,

Some people don’t,
But here we’ll have a vote,
To see who doesn’t!

“I sort of like tea,
I’m growing to like it,
Although coffee is my speciality,”
Says Mum.

“I love tea!
I drink it half my life!
I don’t know what I’d do without it!”
Says Dad.

“I like tea although I never drink it all.
Coke and lemonade do come onto my list!”
Says Sister.

“I love juice!
live for it!
I worship it!
But unfortunately mum says it is illegal!”
Says Brother.

“I hate tea and juice!
Coffee is alright,
Though I prefer instant.”
Says Grandma.

“Ok,” says Dad. “Put your hand in the middle if you like TEA!
“Two! Yes! That means instant coffee might still win!” yells grandma!
“Ok,” says Dad “put your hand in the middle if you like instant coffee!”
He has a cunning smile on his face.

“One! Ha! So much for instant coffee winning!” Mum sniggers.
Grandma stomps off in a disappointed mood.

“Put your hand in the middle if you like juice.”
Only Brother puts his hand in the middle.

“That means coffee only has one!
TEA wins!”
Dad throws a miniature party.

“What’s your favourite food?” asks Brother.

“I’m going,” says Dad.