File Clearview Primary School Poetry

7/30/2019 File Clearview Primary School Poetry

1/12

The Secrets of Our

Surroundingspoems by Clearview School children

written during a School for Young Writers

Workshop

8-9 May, 2013

Tutor Jason Clements

Programme director Dr Glyn Strange

Editors Note

The poems from this workshop are a very good result from a 2-day workshop that introduced ideas and ways of going

about things that may have been new to many of the participants. The work produced in any such workshop always

needs editing because there is never enough time for a final polish. The editing done here ranges from simple

correction of punctuation and lineation to the occasional re-ordering or deletion of words to avoid ambiguity or to


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make the meaning clear. Generally the work was of a high standard and little editing was required.

~ Glyn Strange, Director, School for Young Writers


3/12

Farmlands

A mountain bike pedals

along a gravel road.

Pigeons chirp as if cheeringand swallows swoop and dive.

Sheep bleat and hide

from the blinding sun

burning their woollen coats.

Foals jump and frolic

neighing in the dry grass.

A spider creeps along the handlebars

leaving a long trail of silk

to help me find my way home.

Amy McMillan, Year 8


4/12

Facing Phobias

As the sea rolls and rumblesunderneath the ferrys hull

frightened faces turn green

from motion sickness.

Lightning crackleslike nerves frayed by fear.

The heavens are illuminated

like a firework display

as rain pounds on the deck.

The cabins turn pitch black

as girls scream in the dark

afraid of a spider

spreading silken webs.

Breanna Evans, Year 7


5/12

Lifting the Curse

Moss on an oak treeis like a furry beard.

Bark tears like banana peel

from the trunk.

Pea tendrils are barbed wire

on a battlefield.

Cutty grass knives

stab like bayonets.

Mosaics in the garden

are stained glass windows

as safe as the sanctuary of a church.

Burning sage gets rid of my curse

of being stuck inside

with the girls all day long.

Rhys Henderson, Year 7


6/12

Fishing with Dad

Whangarei harbour flourisheslike a playground for bait-fish

to play hide and seek.

Crabs fight over rocky territory

like a twelve-round boxing match.

Snapper weave through seaweed

to avoid a fishing net.

The Pacific licks the side of the boatlike a child slurping a lemonade popsicle.

Gannets are vultures waiting

for the remains of our squid bait.

The boats cabin is a treasure cove

where the aroma of our catch

lingers until tea time.

Ryan Faulkner, Year 7


7/12

Autumn Forest

Goosebumps appear as the sun sinksdeep like an anchor into the night.

Golden oak leaves fill the sky

like autumn stars.

I climb to the tree tops.

as if on a beanstalk.

Descending from the knotted canopy

is like abseiling down a dreadlock.

Mist suffocates the forest floorand the fallen leaves become compost.

Georgia Myers, Year 7


8/12

Royal Reversal

Cavalier King Charles spanielsprance around the park like princes.

Their master hides pork dog-biscuits

in his pocket for training treats.

He calls his dogs and climbs

over a wooden ramp

only followed by his shadow.

They stand as still as the corgi statues.The universe is reversed:master becomes servant.

MacKenzie Parker, Year 8


9/12

Gardens in Glory

Slugs and snails live underPortobello mushrooms

growing as tall as skyscrapers

to house the residents.

Stinging nettles stabat invading wasps

breaking the barrier

of the strawberry patch.

Sparrows swoop downwith claws like ballpoint pens.

Robins soar through

cabbage-tree leaves

covered in dew

that cleans their wings

like a car wash.

Jolie Coleman, Year 7


10/12

Surviving the Wilderness

The forest floor is a pantryfor students learning survival skills.

Rotting oak tree stumps

store edible mushrooms.

A trail of liquid slime leads to a jackpot

of bugs bodies squishing in the damp.

The insect turns numb

cradled in a tight grasp.

Too scared to hold the bug myself

I close my eyes and block my nose

while chewing the huhu grub.

Sophie Watson, Year 7


11/12

Finding your Voice

The guitars body sits on a standcovered by a thin layer of dust.

The plastic pick

lost in the sound hole

is like a corn chipstuck in my throat.

The metal capo clings

beside the tuning pegs

like an artificial limb.

The nylon strings

of the classical guitar

wait for my fingers

to warm its vocal chords.

Ella Curtis-Smith, Year 8


12/12

Metamorphosis

Caterpillar legs crawlalong the balance bar

like ballerinas learning to pli.

Dancers break in their shoes

by stretching the curve of their arches.

Pirouettes en pointe

spin the girls into a chrysalis.

Trading leotards for tutusand stripes for wings of beauty.

Paige Sullivan, Year 8

Documents

File Clearview Primary School Poetry