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

Writing... Ducks!!!

I wrote a piece of writing on the 10th of August, and although it isn't my best, I thought I should share it with you! It is called 'Lake Ducks'

Here it is! I hope you like it ;)

As we powered through the lake, water streaming by us, I could feel the other ducks wake mixing into mine. I heard quacks coming from another flock, and I could tell the rest of our flock heard it to.

The sky today was a dark elephant kind of grey, which meant I couldn’t see much but the ducks of my flock in front of me and if I turn around, the ones behind. The water look like it was the sky, or the sky the water, because of the way the two grey things blended into each other.

The water rippled in the cold, icy wind, and I could tell it was coming from the mountains nearby.

My webbed feet were beginning to hurt, because we’d been paddling for a while. The pain was growing.

‘Woof, woof”

A dog. That meant that land was close. My aching feet would get a rest, and so would my eyes. Depending on what time of day it was.

As we paddled onto the sandy shore, I could see a few people, and some houses. I knew that there would normally be more people than this, but since it is a grey day, the people don’t come out much. I have always wondered why.

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

Writing

Have you ever wondered?

I wrote a peice of writing called 'have you ever wondered'. It is about wondering I guess. I dont know. Her it is:


Have you ever wondered why the sky is blue? And why the sky is a darker blue on one side, and lighter blue on the other? And how high up the sky really is?  How big the world really is? How clouds just appear? How the world is circle, and how we can see that? How the ocean goes on, and on, and on. How the waves roll? Have you ever wondered?

We had to write a piece of writing about an image. I chose an image from my favourite place in the world - hatepe. Hatepe is near Taupo, about ten minuits out. It is a small village with a beach.


This is my piece of writing:

As we drove in, I felt that feeling that I feel every time we came here. I felt as if I was back at home. This was my favourite place ever. All the memories I had made, came straight back to me now. Hatepe. I closed my eyes, I felt the heat of the day engulf me. As we drove down the road, we came to our batch. I jumped out of the car, while it was still moving, like always. I couldn’t wait any longer! We were finally here, finally home. We parked up the car, and went inside our batch. It felt so great. I got my togs out of the car, and changed into them at the speed of light. Mum, dad and my brother changed intot their togs to, and we all got our books out. Dad put them in a basket, then helped us get out the paddle boards, and the umbrella. Kd, our dog, was running around so excited to be here to. We all ran down to the lake, to see all of the other people there in their togs swimming to. Kd and I dived into the lake and felt the great feel of Taupo lake wash over me. I smiled, feeling gleeful that I was doing it all again. I got out to get the paddle boards, and felt the sand squish between my toes. Dad was coming down to, with my paddle board. I looked at the blue around the sides, and raced up to grab it. I put on my life jacket, grabbed the paddle and pushed the board into the water. I jumped on and paddle out. I could feel the breeze brush against my face. I knew that I had gone out just far enough, as I could only just see the lake floor. I dived off the board, and under the blanket of lake I went. The cool water soaked me up, as I went under. I trout swam under me, and I swam back up to the board and took a breath.

We had to write and explantion piece about the Urinary System. This is mine:

The urinary tract system has many assets to it, being the Kidneys, Ureters, Bladder and Urethra. Your urine is full of different things that make it, like water, foods, urea, chemicals, and even some things that you have breathed, and been exposed to! Your urinary system sometimes comes up with some problems, like infections to the Kidneys, Bladder and Urethra. Sometimes, we need to hold onto our Urine for a while though, and this can lead to some bad things happening with your Bladder.

Have you ever wondered what your Urine may be made up of? Because your Urine is made up of many different things, and sometimes some things can even change the colour of your Urine from yellow to red! Your Urine is made up of many things, but it mostly made of water. Your urine is made with a sort of filter. The extra waste from your body, gets filtered through the kidneys, to make Urine. Then, at about every 10-15 seconds, your ureters, which are as thick as your middle finger, push very little bits of urine into your Bladder, which then, you let out through your Urethra.  The watse consists of water, Urea, foods, and other chemicals.  The waste, which is called Urea, is made when protein from meat is broken down. Some foods, like Beetroot, Blackberry,  and Rhubarb can turn your Urine colour pink or red!

There is many problems that may accure with the Urinary Tract System. Sometimes you could get a Bladder infection, which are called Cystirtis. You can get this infection, by bacteria reaching your Bladder. You could also get a Kidney infection, which is called Pyelonephritis. You can get this when large stones get stuck in in your Kidneys, which can cause a lot of pain.

Sometimes we all have that time when we just have to let it out, but what if it is the wrong time, and the wrong place? We’ve all had a situation like that,  so, what WILL happen if you hold onto your Urine for to long? Well, your Bladder can actually burst! Although this is very unlikely, some peoples Bladder have burst, which have lead to fatal, or painful endings. You really should be going about 8 times a day. If you don’t go, and your Bladder doesn’t burst, it can build up bacteria, which could lead to an infection.  

As you now know, the urinary system is very important. The foods and drinks you have are a very important thing to making your Urine, as much as what can cause problems with your urinary system, and what can happen if we hold on to much.

Every Wednesday, we have a sub teacher named Mrs Bradshaw. Mrs Bradshaw is very nice! We had to write a thing about the ANZACs from a picture we choose from three. I choose to write a diary entry. Here is mine...

Wednesday 13 April

ANZAC - 16 year old Alex diary entry

26 April

Gallipoli

Today was very much the same as every other day.

My friend Josh died today. He stuck his head over the top of the trench. It was only a bit over, infact, just the tip of his forehead, but he got shot. It was very quick, just like that. We were playing cards, and he stood up on his knees, and turned around, and thats when his head went over. We all noticed it, but just at that moment everything felt like it was in slow motion. We heard a bullet shot, a bullet that seemed extramely loud, and he smiled like he heard nothing, and then boom, the bullet hit his head, and his neck flung back, and it became broken. The bullet went in deep, and he flew backwards, just like that. There was blood running down his forehead and onto the ground. The blood was making the water on the ground red. Some rats came scurring past. Those rats were giangantic, and I vomited, and even worse, I vomited on Josh. The rats then came back, and were all over Josh. I vomyed again. I know it was bad, but it happened. I’ve vomited nearly everyday, but most of the time, not at the rats. I try to stay out of there way. I don’t know why, but I just don’t like the rats. I find them disgusting.

Anyway, Josh was covered with rats, and I couldn’t bear to see him like that. I said a muffled sorry to him, took on last look at my poor friend, and ran away. I know the other guys understood. They aren’t scared of rats, so they shooed the rats of, most of them. I heard them heaving Josh up onto their shoulders and walking off. When they came back, I was sitting in one of the dug-in holes in the trench, that was our bed. I was clutching my stomach, still sick with the idea of the rats and dead Josh. There was a puddle of vomit on the dirt below me. Most of them men had left me, found the vomit disgusting, even though they understood my pain. I know I should be use to my friends dying now, it has been over a year since the war started.

My friends sat down on some dirt on the other side of the trench. They asked if I was ok, and I just nodded my head. I could tell they were staring at me, frowning.

They all walked of, apart from Mavis. Mavis sat by my side, patted me and walked off.

The rest of the day, I just sat in the trench, shooting. I think I only shot one or two people. I know I should try hard to shot people, but I feel like there is no point in killing. I’m sick and tired of all this killing anyway. I think everyone is. I wish the war would stop. I want to go home. I want to go to family, and live my life as I should be.  Most people commit sucucide now. At the start of this war, we all thought it’d go for a month or two. Boy was I wrong. A year here has been hell. Our bosts have gone, we have frezzing feet. All of our bodies are dirty and itchy. Our hair has grown long and has lice. Our body has cuts and brussies everywhere, and our heart has already died.

Today was horrible day. I mean, Josh dying was pretty bad. Josh was a good friend, funny and kind. He was always happy to, trying to cheer us up when we were down the most. He would be cheering me up now, if he were alive. Some of the other men died today, and I could see other men crying in the dug out trenches. This happened everyday. Some one crying, mourning for their lost friends. Sometimes I think they are crying for their family. I know that some of the men’s family has died while they’ve been away, I don’t think any of mine have yet.

The last time I heard from my family was about a month go now.

In their letter, they were saying how my sister, Mariean, had become a teacher for the 5 and 6 year olds at our local school. I wanted to be a teacher, but I think that dream of mine is over now. Marie has always loved school, and always loved younger kids. All the family knew she would be a teacher. It was just obvious. They said how she would start this month. I hope she is going well.

My dad, Riley, has been doing well at home. He is to old to go to war, luckily. I am to young, and I know that I’ve made a BIG mistake coming to war.

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!