Our Friendship

Our friendship is like a tree -

Yes, I’m talking about you and me -

Or it could be like a rose

Because it shows

The truth and joy

Towards each other;

For we are like child and mother.

Now it is time for us to go,

But we shall never forget

So that we can always

Rely on each other

Though we may grow up

With another.

Ruth Hottinger & Emer Wintsch

Here it comes – There it goes

Seems like we’ve just began

But suddenly the sun’s day is over

And now its time for the moon

To shine and spread its light

Over our dim world

So now its time to say

Goodnight Goodnight

The sun has gone

And the moon is up

So now we say

Hello hello

And welcome the moon to our family

 

by Kieran Cormican

Moon Beach

As the tide of silvery dust moves in,

The Moon’s deep craters sit and wait

For palm trees’ canopy to close again

For night to come, to shine for long,

To light the earth and then be gone.

 

I sit and watch. I see no beach

Like fairy tales have come to tell

But I can hear the tide move in

Over lunar rocks and shining craters

I know I wish that I could see

 

By Ellie Hipwell

Moonsketch

 

On a moon-filled  night

Everything was still and calm

Nothing happening; just the feeling of a breeze,

A shining pearl in the sky,

Guardian of night,

Earth’s pet lost in an everlasting cycle,

Filled with emptiness,

The moon looks brand new as if nothing has been on it at all,

Or just a sheet with a few scribbles on it.

As if the moon has a sleep charm putting the world to slumber,

The calm air just rushed away leaving nothing but the moon.

 

By Erika Nishitani

Moon Dancers

 

They move across

The everlasting waltz

Dance floor of stars

Stood upon the neverending nothingness

Round and around with rotational symmetry

So beautiful yet so sad

Partners for life

But never meet

The song of the Earth

Always singing

Until the end

End of the song

                               

By Samuel Oram Jones

Crystal Ball

The moon is a giant crystal ball

Covered in miles of white future plains

Our ancestors roam the ghostly city

We so big only make a little shadow always to remain

Life is hard rough and tough

But they sleep soundly on the white snowdust

The moon escapes our unkind world

Its peaceful calm no change what so ever

Future seeing

Ghostly city…..

Our world is precious but do we care for the giant crystal ball?

 

By Kirstie-Anne Woodman

Shimmering Moon

 

 

The moon shines in the night’s black mine

She floats along from east to west but never takes one single rest

While gliding along the dusky skies with one or two small stars beside

How do you keep your skin so fair,

Gliding along in the white-silver moon air?

Dance-around, orbiting she goes

 Keeping skies lit so we see beyond shadows

The full moon shimmers while the rest of the moon glimmers

The dark night glows while the sweet moonlight flows

Moon, oh moon!

Why are you always so pale underneath your silver-diamond veil?

The day returns too soon –  so goodbye,

goodbye Moon.

        

 By Laura Baird

Surviving D-Day

Shaking not with cold but with fear,

Sensing the enemy was near.

One soldier fell beside me,

My best friend – it was he.

Although the sea was raging

All sounds in my ears were fading.

Cries roaring from all directions,

Fear spreading just like infections.

Praying for my own survival,

Hoping to see my rival.

A wound spreading through my arm.

This place ws the opposite to calm.

The screams pounding in my head.

The thought of my wife asleep in her bed.

And now, a few weeks after,

I still haven’t heard the sound of laughter.

I lie in a hospital bed,

Thinking of my friends that were dead.

The pain is distant, like a bad memory…

I was alive, but they were dead.

Anna O’Hagan – Year 6, 2006

A Final Conscription

He sails towards his grave.

He did not expect this dreadful

Way to die.

He looks ahead;

Death waits for him there –

A final conscription.

He prays ‘God help me please!’

As he gets off the boat

Bullets take him down with ease.

As he gets to heaven, to St. Peter he will tell

“Another soldier reporting, Sir.

I’ve served my time in Hell.”

Emilio Baqueiro-Blucher – Year 6,  2006

Desert

 

My life is built for pain,

A burning flame I seek…

I wish for nothing more

Than mates to hear

My baleful call.

Though I seem hot

I’m really cold

Like an icy stream

People! Come to see me -

Find my hidden key

So you may see the real

Sandy way of me.

 

Ryan Gray, Yr 6