Monday, 31 March 2014

The Countryside | Dominic Astwood-Kingi, V2

I rolled down the hill with amazing speed. I closed my eyes so the spikey plants wouldn’t get into my eyes. There were some rocks and by luck I rolled between them. I could hear my three cousins screaming.

I hit the dirt and little rocks and I rolled into the stream. SPLASH! I held my breath and swam back to shore. I was dripping wet. The dirty water was green. My cousin Riley smiled.

When I got out of the water he thought I was hurt, so he walked to me and asked, “Are you ok?” with a real guilty face. He always does that face when he sees someone hurt.

Thursday, 27 March 2014

Saturday Morning | Theo Bodkin, V2

Saturday morning me and my dad driving home from Cricket. We take a right on to a newly made gravel road where it’s all happening. A church with a big cross on the top sits on the left and a baseball game is parked on the right. People cheering sounds down the street. A pink car is the only other thing on the road but us.

In a spilt second, like a flash of light with a scream, blood covers the road like a big sheet.
“Help,” someone screams, “get an ambulance!”
A huge swarm of people surround a kid paralysed with pain, lying on the pavement. We hear the sound of the ambulance, “nee naa nee naa.” Inside we both feel the guilt, even though we did not do it.  We still have the guts to keep on driving.
“Woah, that was scary,” I said to Dad.
“Yes that is why you look right and left before you cross the road,” warned Dad with a stern face.

Wednesday, 12 February 2014

New Zealand/ Nature’s Omelette | Avie Williams

Fallen pohutukawa flowers
Saffron on the fried earth.
The sun is the egg
a yellow circumference…
A pinch of black seed
and a tablespoon of light rain.
The lemons fall from the tree
with a sprinkle of parsley…
Nature’s blossom weaves a fabric
Together like whitebait patties…
Cooking slowly
The wind whisks together
All summer day long…
Turning once white/golden
when the sun is beaten and left to run
too late in the scorching heat.
Flipped over underneath the folds
The crimson blossom burns
towards the end of season…

To piece the poems together | Meg Hardie-Boys

Chapter One
Being alone is like being wrapped up as a present,
Wrapped up in your own world,
Never to be opened.

When all you can see is thunderstorms,
The sense that nobody else is there seeps in to your body, and finds a way to let you down.
The wrapping paper is gathering dust.

When the sun in your heart is shining,
You sit down,
Grab a book,
And wait for someone to come.
And they always do.
The wrapping paper is being torn open,
And uncovering the present inside.

I slam my poetry book down on the bed. That was one of the best poems I had ever written, but of course it is not about me. When I am alone, nobody comes; I am by myself for ages.
My name is Milly River. I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters all squashed in one tiny house. My bedroom is a cupboard. I sit in there for hours and hours, writing poems. It is how I keep my life together, sitting down on my bed, thinking of poems. A bit like waiting to die.
Chapter Two
Sitting in the old wooden rocking chair,
People expect the old lady to be knitting,
Just like they always do
But no
She is just waiting to die.
As she waits, memories of her childhood flash back to her,
Eating ice blocks with her friends,
Playing in the lake on days that were too hot.
Happy days.
She takes one last breath with a smile on her face.
She no longer waits to die.

See, I write poems all the time.  It calms me down from what is going on around me.  It puts me in a different world.  I love it.

Chapter Three

“Milly, are you ready?”  My Mum, Katie, shouted up the towering stairs. 
“Nearly, Mum! I just need my poetry book!” I called back.
“Forget that stupid poetry book, all you do is scribble dumb words in it.”  I could hear Liam all the way from the moving truck.  He was the oldest of my three brothers, always moaning about his hair, thinking he was a fashion model.  It flopped across his face, and kept on getting in his eyes.
“I just need to find my poetry book!” I yelled again. 
Frantically I threw my pillow up in the air, looking for the familiar leaf-green cover.
“Found it!” I suddenly cried out.  I slipped down the stairs, clutching my book and pillow as I went, jumping into the back of the moving van. We were off.

Chapter Four
We were moving.  I hated leaving my best friend Eliza behind, and the park.  The beautiful park with dancing butterflies and long green grass.  I visited there every day.  There were heaps of poems to write.  I had a book full of poems about one tiny tree there.  That tree held so many words.  But now, we were moving to Wellington.  I sat squashed in the back of the moving van, cramped between an old chair and Louise’s giant pink suitcase, filled with all her clothes.  Louise was probably my most fashionable sister.  Every Sunday she was out with all her friends, shopping for the latest clothes. 
The huge van rumbled noisily along the gravel and the bags and furniture started tumbling onto me.  I tucked as a bright pink hairbrush flew across to where my head had just been.  I shivered.  It was dangerous back here.  I wished I was in the front, with Mum, Kirsty, Louise and Liam.  Lizzie had a driver’s license, so she, Charles and James were seated in her car. 
As the youngest of the family, I was chosen to sit between boxes of food and giant pink suitcases in the back.  I was ok with that, but there was one thing I didn’t want to do.  Move.

Chapter Five

Little shadow,
Little shadow hiding behind bins,
Threading itself in and out of the long line of them.
Out of reach of human eyes.
Then bounds away, quick as a wink.
We’ve stopped in Taupo.  There is a little dog I’ve seen scampering around these streets.  A scruffy little animal with one golden ear, the rest of his body is covered in coal black dirt.  Yesterday I saw him outside a dairy, looking eagerly inside.  He must be pretty hungry I would think.
 “Screeeeech!” Our moving van stopped to a halt outside Jane’s café.  I could hear Mum talking to Kirsty about whether they should go in or not. Kirsty is my favourite person in the family, she sticks up for me and doesn’t tease me about my poems.  The rest of my family do the opposite of that. 
There was a creaking noise, and the back door of the moving truck opened.  Kirsty was standing there, her hair looking all sparkly in the sunshine.  I hadn’t realised it was so sunny.  The van didn’t have any windows in the back.
“Come on sweetheart, we’re going to Jane’s café” Kirsty said softly.
“Was it alright in the back?”
I nodded. “It was ok, I guess”.
We stepped onto the hard concrete, hunger gnawing at me.  My legs felt sore and dizzy, since I hadn’t been using them for ages.  We entered the café and I saw Mum, Liam and Louise already sitting at a table, Mum trying to master her cup of tea.
This is an absolutely disgusting drink!” she spat out, ignoring the fact that the person who made it was right next to her.  The waitress put down a big ham, cheese and lettuce sandwich next to Liam, and he almost instantly gobbled it up.
“Milly, would you like a cookie or muffin?” Mum asked.
“A cookie, please!” I answered.
“Kirsty go and get a cookie and something for yourself”  Mum looked at the cabinet full of food.  “And nothing else!” she added.

While Kirsty went to get the food, I asked Mum if I could go to the toilet.
“There’s one across the road!” she snapped and went back to her magazine.  I raced out of the café and to the crossing.  That’s when I saw him.  The little dog running onto the road, straight into the line of cars.  I didn’t know what came over me.  I hurled myself onto the road, grabbing the dog and threw him onto the sidewalk.  Everything became a blur - the cars screeching to a halt, Kirsty shouting out something - and me.  Me, as still as a whisper.

Chapter Six

I opened my eyes.  The first thing I saw was James, his eyes were red and he was holding my hand.  Then there was Mum behind him.  And Liam.  And Louise.  In fact, everyone in my family was there.  Apart from Kirsty.
“Wh-where’s Kirsty?” I asked.  My voice felt hot and croaky.
“Next to you”, Louise whispered.
I turned my face to the side, and gasped.  There was Kirsty, a pale figure tucked up to her chin in sheets.
“Milly?” Kirsty answered with a faint smile on her face.
“Oh Kirsty, you’re ok?” I whispered.
“Kind of”, she said.  Then closed her eyes.
Mum was on me. 
“What the hell were you thinking running out onto the road like that?” she fiercely spat at me.
“There was a dog…” I started but Mum interrupted me. 
“We thought you were dead, and we had to spend $5.00 on the flowers!” she pointed to some roses on a little table.  Typical Mum.  You would think she liked money more than her own kids!  I was about to argue with her when I saw one of those animal cages that you get at the SPCA in Charles’ hand.  Half of it was covered in a small grey blanket, so I couldn’t see inside.
“What’s in there?”  I asked.
“You can see, when you come out of hospital”, Lizzie said.
“When’s that?” I asked.
Mum sighed.
“Unfortunately tomorrow.  I’ll have another kid to look after again, she said sadly.  I felt a bit angry at her, but again, she always says stuff like that.  Ever since my Dad died.
Chapter Seven
History can repeat,
History, like a car accident.
History, like my Dad’s death.

History like a car,
Travelling too fast to stop.
History like a squeal of brakes,
Brakes that don’t work.

History like a man lying on the road,
Still -
Too still.

The man on the road was my Dad. He was going to the dairy for milk. One road to cross, one road he failed to cross. A shiny red Ferrari, but an old one. It was speeding down the road - knocking my Dad off his feet, under the tyres.
Mum was probably super scared when she saw me on the road. Of course I didn’t mean to frighten her, but that poor little dog.  He would have got run over!  I didn’t stay long in hospital.  I had only fainted when I saw the car and then a tyre knocked the side of my head, making me unconscious.  So I was let out of hospital and now I’m here in a little bach we rented.  Why would we continue on our journey?  Kirsty wasn’t with us and I was not ready to go without her. 
Turns out that when I was on the road, she ran out to help me.  She pushed me out of the traffic, putting herself in the danger!  The car had run over her arm.  That’s why she was in hospital.  And I felt like it was all my fault.  Now we are stuck in this tiny bach.  So tiny that some of us have to sleep in a tent on the lawn.
I am lying in a tent away from the others.  There is nobody else to talk to, and I really miss Kirsty.  The tent is hot and stuffy.  I open the door to let some more fresh air in.  The lawn stretches across the landing outside.  In the middle is a big tree, perfect for climbing.  I let myself out of the tent and onto the long grass.  I wander over to the tree and started to climb.  My arms wrap around the thick branches.  My feet search desperately for a foot-hole.  The slimy trunk made me slip, giving me a hole in my tights, but I didn’t care.
Inside the tree was wonderful.  Here I could forget all my worries.  Finally, I reached the top.  The wind whips my hair across my face.  And I laugh.  For the first time in years, I really laugh.  I felt funny in my throat, and I like it.  Laughing is wonderful.

Chapter Eight
Being in the tree is magical.
Just feel your hair blowing across your face,
And letting the wind take
Your worries.
I stayed dreaming in the tree for a little longer, then came in when it was time for tea.
“Where have you been, Milly?” Charles asked when I got to the table.
“In the garden”, I answered.  “When will Kirsty be out of hospital?”  No one said anything, so I took it that they didn’t hear.

Chapter Nine
2 weeks later…
The girl was lost in the tree that night;
When the moon was full,
When the moreporks gave their mournful cries
To the secrets of the bush;
And when the bleak sky was
Covered in a starry blanket
That showed the girl her way.
Guess what! Great news. Kirsty is out of hospital and we found a house in Taupo!  I am so happy that the inside of me is bubbling with excitement!  The house that we found is gigantic, with nine bedrooms.  The house has a big back yard, with pretty little flowers planted everywhere.  My bedroom is very big, unlike my old one.
And Kirsty is here!  (With a broken arm).  It is not too bad, she says, and it doesn’t hurt.  I have showed her this book I am writing in, and she says the poems are very good.  So, I do not need to write in this book anymore.  I have found my place in this world.
I also have that little dog I saw on the road.  He is very cute.  I have taught him how to sit, roll over and lie down.  Mum has become a lot nicer.  I think this is because she has a good job at the local DVD store and likes the people there.  She says I can keep him as long as he doesn’t run onto the road!  

Wednesday, 4 December 2013

Funny-ness | Robin Garland

When I was getting dressed this morning my brother kept on making me laugh sooo hard I nearly peed my pants. Mum said that Hugh had to leave my room. But Hugh stood outside my room. it was so funny because Hugh pulled a funny face and it was a pig face then he said that fairytales are non-toxic (he doesn't know what it means.)

Sunday, 10 November 2013

Stingrays | Henri Lyons, Year 5

The sand crunches under my feet as I drag the kayak down the beach. My sister Francesca and our friend Harper are already splashing about in their kayaks. I’m in! I wade out and give my kayak a big shove. I paddle past Francesca, past harper and to the next bay. I know that bay well! Whenever I go there, there are lots of stingrays! Last time I saw fifteen.

I’ve already spotted a stingray. I pull out my spear gun and fire. It’s right on target!

The stingray zooms off dragging me by the gun. I let go of the bright orange paddle and squeeze the gun as tightly as I can. The stingray tows me around a couple of bays. I eventually let go when it brings me back to my bay. Everyone was staring at me blank eyed.

I pick up my paddle and head for shore. I jump onto the jetty and shout out for a towel. My arms are as sore as when you have just had a rugby game.

I walk up the rock hard steps and into the house. It’s so warm and it smells like fresh baking. I sit down and eat some scones. So nice!

Low Ropes | Noah Newton, Year 5

   ‘Noah, you’re first.'
I stare up at the platform. Rock wall up, ropes away. I cling to the wall and move, hand hold by hand hold, up the wall. That seemed easy enough. Now, where to next? From the platform the tyres stand out. They twist and slip under my feet. One more step and I’m on the next platform.
Bomp! I land. Now there are two ways, right or left? Left, I decide. The rope sways and sways until I lose my footing.
   'Woah!’ I say as I dangle off the rope about four metres off the ground. My mouth accidentally lets rip some words I definitely cannot repeat in print.
Twang! The rope pings up and I go shooting down. 
Thud! The shock races up my legs.
Too bad you don’t have suspension springs in your legs!