Poem - treehouse

I wrote ANOTHER poem called 'treehouse', also directed at little kids. I hope you like it! 

I have a place

And it’s my little space

Up in the tops of the trees

Mother and Father can’t get to it

But I can get to it

With ease

It is my little spot

For whenever it’s hot

And I can go outside

I sit up there and think

In the wooden treehouse Father made for me

I can talk to the birds

And we speak little words

Of what we think and feel

I am the king

And I can sing

Out as loud as I want

I can take my teddy bear

Although I have to treat him with care

At the treehouse down the end of the yard

Poem - I am a

I wrote another poem (And it is directed for little kids) and it is called 'I am a'. I hope you like it!

I am a spartan

And I wear

Glamouring armour

And carry a spear

I am a knight

Riding my horse

Galloping over land

With mighty force

I am a soldier

Fighting for my country

I hold my gun

Old and rusty

I am a child

Running fast

Screaming and shouting

And having a blast

Which one should I be today?

I will be the child

Mr. Kvetch and I - poem for quick write

Here is a poem I wrote for quick write which I don't really like but...
It's called Mr Kvetch and I 

If I could do it all over again

I would make sure it didn’t rain

I would really tell the sky

To not at all under any circumstances cry

And then I would go and fetch

My friend who I call mr. Kvetch

(Because he always moans about everything)

And we would go outside

And I would hide and hide and hide

Till my friend who I call Mr. Kvetch

(Because he always moans about everything)

Would find me

And It wouldn’t be raining

Which means I wouldn’t be gaining

Any wet clothes

And a nose that has froze

Outside in the cold

We were doing a quick write and one of the starter sentences was ''I should have lied'
I wrote a poem, although nearly everyone else wrote a story. I am personally better at poems.

Here is it:

I should have lied

I really tried

Not to say the truth

It just came out

In a bit of a shout

Of my big blabbering mouth

First I said

I was just trying to spread

The peanut butter on the bread

And then told her more

I dropped the spoon

On the floor

The crystal spoon

That broke in June

And couldn't be found very soon

And after that I said

Through my dread

That the spoon was gone for good

I put the broken bits of it

Oh all the sharp broken bits of it

In the bin to go

But mother asked

And I answered fast

Of what I knew about it

But mother wasn’t angry

She found another spoon in the pantry

And said that forgave me

After that I asked for help

Whenever I spread peanut butter

We were doing a quick write and one of the starter sentences was ''I should have lied'
I wrote a poem, although nearly everyone else wrote a story. I am personally better at poems.

Here is it:

I should have lied

I really tried

Not to say the truth

It just came out

In a bit of a shout

Of my big blabbering mouth

First I said

I was just trying to spread

The peanut butter on the bread

And then told her more

I dropped the spoon

On the floor

The crystal spoon

That broke in June

And couldn't be found very soon

And after that I said

Through my dread

That the spoon was gone for good

I put the broken bits of it

Oh all the sharp broken bits of it

In the bin to go

But mother asked

And I answered fast

Of what I knew about it

But mother wasn’t angry

She found another spoon in the pantry

And said that forgave me

After that I asked for help

Whenever I spread peanut butter

Poem - What If

Poem

Here is a poem I made, called 'what If'

I hope you like it!

What if the sky was always grey. Then blue may not be such a favourite colour. 

What if chairs weren't a thing. Then we would be standing A LOT! At least we would get strong legs.

What if pencil sharpeners weren't around. Then we would have to but so many pencils, and so many trees would have to be cut down to make them. 

What if the grass was really tall. Then we wouldn't be able to see each other when playing! What would be the point of that!

What  if the wind blew always, and in the same direction. Our hair would look crazy.

What if we didn't have trees. Well, we would probably be dead because trees provide us with oxygen. 

What if there was no what if. Then we would not ask so many questions. That would be strange.

Charlotte T

We have been learning about the ANZACs recently and we wrote a poem about it.
I really liked writing this poem, and I think I did really well. Here is my poem...

A Soldier's Lifetime at War

Imagine, us comrades, fallen in the mud, blood, rifles, dead surrounding us, coughing, chest complaints, scratching, moaning scared out of our minds,

  Soldiers, safety, where are you? Bombs, fire, explosions, go away please. I want out, I want home, I want my family.

  My boots are lost, I feel woozy, I feel tired. Bombs are everywhere. I feel numb. I feel weak, and I fall over. They carry on, ignoring the fighting, their clothes ripped, their bodies torn badly, their skin pale as snow.  

‘Boys, Gas, remember your families boys, put your gas masks on!.’

Gas mask, on, have my mates got them on?

  I can’t see them,, where have they gone? This gas is blinding, This gas is thick., This gas is dark green and I feel around, looking, hoping, to find something, but I find nothing.

  I hear a high cry, and look around, to find someone rushing, wobbling towards me, coughing, and spluttering, and I know he is dying, and I feel helpless, and I feel sorry for him.

I hated watching this, hearing this, This man, I don’t know him, but he has dark, curly, hair, and I know I have to pick him up, move him, and as I do, I feel the man gripping me, and gurgling up blood, vomiting, and withering in my grip, as I lay him down in the wagon.

  I walk away, my stomach twisting, as I hear him dying, hear him suthering. Imagine what it is like, to hear someone dying, someone just like you, and to know that that may be you next time. To have a fear of death, is the biggest and worst fear ever. Imagine what death is like.  

  If you have ever seen death, ever seen someone in pain, you will understand how terrible I feel now. If you have ever heard bombs flying over your head, while you worry that that next bomb might land on you, you’ll understand, If you have ever experienced war, you will understand it isn’t one bit glorious to die for your country, It is the opposite, It is truly horrible.

By Charlotte

I hope you like it!