Tag Archives | Ciara

ten things found in a skyship explorers knapsack

I would take a ball which beeps when I am near danger.

I would take a flashlight which predicts the future.

I would take a technology ring so if I am in danger or lost it will track where I am.

I would take an enchanted sea shell to predict the forecast of the weather.

I would take a pair of special binoculars so that I can see peoples future through them.

I would take bring mythical winged boots to give me the ability to fly.

I would bring a potion to give me energy when tired.

I would bring a compass to tell me where I am.

I would bring a tub of magical tab of glitter to sprinkle good luck.

I would take a feather of a falcon to morph a mythical parachute when I am falling.

 

 

The wardrobe by Ciara @ Ashurst

Amara entered Mr Luciano’s room and found an unusual wardrobe. The wardrobe had wood carvings of flowers, lavender flowers. She checked the drawer underneath the top cabinet doors. The drawer was hard to pull and wouldn’t open. So she stood in the top cabinet doors. Suddenly the wardrobe shuck? What is this…?

“I see you’ve found my book of marvels,” mumbled the anonymous voice. As the marble floor creaked, a dark shadow. Amara wished she never entered and hoped that the man won’t hurt her. “My name is Luciano Gold…”

The Doors- Ciara Oliver

I stood silently, looking at the door. Which a slow creaking sound, it opened. Taking a deep breath, I walked inside….

I tip-toed on the hard ground, while my eyes were blindfolded, I felt a strong wind force itself to my face. I opened my eyes; It was a dark hallway. The doors shined brightly like the sun. The doors had rustic signs spelling: Yellow door, blue door, pink door, red door, orange door, green door. I walked over to the orange door. I clenched onto the handle, and opened it. I ran in; Suddenly hungry tigers circled me. I was a piece of meat (well to them I was!) Then I saw lava chasing people!

“Oh no get me out of here!” I cried

The Bicycle

The bike sits,

a forgotten friend waiting

against the mossy bricks.

Its pedals waiting to be ridden

Sticking out like bull horns

The wheels are round,

like a Ferris wheel,

waiting to be spun again.

They’re pink like a flamingo’s feathers.

The saddle lay

against the stand,

waiting to get the ice-cream stain washed off

like a child’s dirty shirt.