- I AM a poem by Theodore Vandenberg (Y8)
- 🎈 Pennywise the Clown 🎈 a poem by Beatrice Kellet (Y9)
- Bali – The Island of Paradise a postcard-style piece of creative writing by Ananya Brandon (Y7)
- Goodnight from the Mountains a poem by George Chalkias (Y7)
- The Hypocritical Observer of Snow a poem by Maia Koehler Allen (Y8)
I AM
a poem by Theodore Vandenberg (Y8)
I am a fish free in the wild ocean
I am the sun of the night
I am an angel come from the heavens
I am the blade of the sharpest sword
I am the ashes and soot of hell
I am all the universes combined
I am the finest of wine made by gods
I am an elven blade ready to strike
I am the whispers of the waves in the night
I am the finest of steel mined by the dwarves
I am a beast with no reins or no limits
I am the tastiest of steaks in the cellar ready to eat
Who leads the moon around earth?
Who made the atmosphere so strong, so perfect?
Who controls life and death so well (if not I)
🎈 Pennywise the Clown 🎈
a poem by Beatrice Kellet (Y9)
Deep in the sewers, where shadows creep,
Lies a lurking menace, where nightmares sleep
A painted smile, so wide, and grim,
He lurs the lost, the lonely, the small,
With promises of sweetness, before they would fall.
Red balloons rise, drifting high,
Whispering softly, "You'll float too," .
His laughter echoes, sharp and cold,
A tale of a mystery. eternally told.
Every 27 year he would come out to play
So beware the sewers, the lurking down,
For none escape Pennywise the Clown.
Bali – The Island of Paradise
a postcard-style piece of creative writing by Ananya Brandon (Y7)
Dear friend,
I’m writing to you from Bali, on a beautiful island near the shore. The quaint houses with thatched roofs and stone walls are cozy places to stay and the people always make you feel welcome. The lush greenery and aromatic flowers add such a nice pop of colour to the earthy stone. The taste of the ocean spray and the salt on my face are a refreshing change from the wild winds of Switzerland. Days spent relaxing on the sandy beach, feeling the warmth of the sun, are so peaceful. The winding, twisting paths that weave around the island are wonderful to explore on days when I don’t have any plans. In the evenings, the sun sets into a breathtaking display of colours like a painter’s palette mixed into a master piece. When the tide comes in, I sit in the rock pools, letting the waves lap at my feet while watching little crabs scuttle across the wet sand.
Wish you were here!
Goodnight from the Mountains
a poem by George Chalkias (Y7)
Flames like thunder rumbling,
I gaze at them half slumbering,
Winter is peaceful in the mountains
The wood being terrorised by the fire,
A chalet that we all desire,
A snowy village in the mountains
Sleep tickling our thoughts tonight,
Warmth of the fire is a delight,
Goodnight, from the mountains.
The Hypocritical Observer of Snow
a poem by Maia Koehler Allen (Y8)
The beauty of bad weather is best observed warm
To the bitter of frost I haven’t a qualm,
Watch as the hills turn fully white,
Strangely contrasting the black of night.
Happy and comfy, sitting by the fire,
The wind leading the snowflakes higher and higher.
Dreading the moment I have to go out in the storm,
After all, isn’t bad weather best observed warm?