Senior School
English: Year 8 Poetry
Year Eight English: Writing inspired by a visit to the school pond
Then it begins,
The leaves crackling on the floor,
All I see is grand, beautiful, green trees
Towering in the sky like giant umbrellas floating.
The willow trees whistle in the wind, as though they are calling to their parents…
By Charlotte Bradshaw
The swan swims
Rippling the starry sky
The bees buzz
The birds sing
Ducklings and their mothers
Smoothly pass through this chaos of beauty
Fallen branches coming back to life
Like a broken heart mended
By Felicity Kitchen
Polam Hall Pond
The breeze whistling though my hair
Trees blowing as if they are dancing together
Sticks crackling beneath my feet
Crack
Crunch
The police siren fading into the distance
The mumbling of the wind
Honey bees busily buzzing around
By Hannah Douglas
Algae on the pond looks like a thin sheet of ice,
The weeping willow looks like icicles hanging down,
Almost touching the dark water,
Ducklings gliding gracefully across to their mother,
It feels as if you are in a land of your own.
By Jenny Dell
Everything changes
Stepping into the thick trees
Everything is still
Suddenly it’s dark
My breath acts like a traitor
Giving me away
I notice the pond
It has changed, there is something new
I realise what
The algae’s denser
It glistens like a gemstone
In the peeping sun
Stood below the leaves
Only specks of light shine though
My soft heart flutters
By Megan Kay
Hanging, weeping with sorrow
Darkness fills every nook and cranny
At night it comes alive
Creatures crawling everywhere
The rustle of leaves
The whistle of the wind
The pond like a sea monster
By Keshena Barnes-Pierre
Polam Hall Pond
I saw all these beautiful things,
And then started to think about the things I did not see,
Like…
Squirrels racing into the mysterious trees,
And rabbits to the prickly bushes.
I have heard stories about a fox I did not see,
And a badger in its home.
By Claire Simm
I take a look around and I see green surrounding me
All the tall trees look at me like an ant
Swans
Debris, dead sticks and twigs
Nettle stings
The moss on the floor feels like walking on carpet
By Jessica Frank
Polam Hall Pond
The wind rustles through the trees’ leaves
Like rain drumming on the ground.
The brick wall is smothered by ivy
And the uneven path is covered,
With lifeless leaves.
The soaring trees prevent the sunlight
From shining down,
Making me shiver.
By Amy Shakeshaft
I see a tree silently weep over the pond
Lonely there swims a white swan
A secret pathway dark and glum
I’m all by myself because no-one will come
By Savanna Farmer
