Outside, rain lashed onto mountain tops.Inside the cave, a warm fire flickered, slowly creating light. Ellie sat on a large rock and dozed. Suddenly, she heard a blood curling screech.She stepped outside cautiously.A thin and bony man crept into the cave.He took his long shotgun out of his enormous pocket and aimed for Ellie’s chest “HELP!” she cried…
The wintriness
Laying in the cold,
it feels like cold ice cream is on top of me.
As the snowman leans on the tree it waits for a me.
The winter day melts as the pumpkins come.
The Bike
The bike, a paralysed lost soul waiting patiently for its owner to return.
Sinking in the depths of despair as the mud devours every last inch.
Worn and broken deflated tyres incapable of use anymore.
Flashlight eyes longing and seeking for the unknown once more.
Snapped rusty chains ungiving and undesiring left to rot and seize up.
Once a child’s prized possesion, now a forgotten relic.
Slipping away, hiding memories of a little girl close to its heart.
Its handlebars reach out like hands.
Oh wow could it be The Grim reaper approaching in a gentle voice “Lets be lost souls together”.
Laptop by Phoebe.
The laptop is closed and never opened,
its old keys are scattered around the
closet waiting to be found,
the camera broken, blank pictures taken,
memory wiped in anger of surviving,
screen shattered as if it were no use anymore,
mouse pad senseless and no longer needed
the laptop in flames, smelling of thick,
foggy smoke.
The book
The book waits,
waiting to be picked up of the shelf
The book opens,
beginning the story
The book travels,
transporting you into another world
The book ends,
arriving you back at your safe place, putting it back on the dusty shelf
You are…
You’re a majestic horse galloping through the soft breeze.
You’re a bird Soaring through the opened fields .
You’re a dog pouncing towards the stick.
Phoebe-SGJ Simile poem
The old, abandoned graveyard was as silent as a a child reading a bewildering book
The stars glistened in the midnight sky like the shimmering sun
The pencil was as sharp as a knife surging into your hand
The tall tree was like an immense mountain towering above
The weekend is like a joyful ball of energy
What are you?by Phoebe
You are Hermione Granger picking out her wand to defeat evil,
You are the last drop of clear ,blue water in Camp Green Lake,
You are a memory mango ready to be picked,
You are a newborn puppy made to spread love,
You are Stanley Yelnat’s hole, encouraging him to dig,
You are the end.
You are poem
You are a perfect Panther,
pouncing on your next victim,
smothering them in a black velvet cloak
You are a ripe banana,
waiting to be peeled to descover what’s inside
You are the sadness of a dog,
waching countless people walk on by ignoring your loyalty
You are your bedroom,
full of millions of secrets waiting to be reaveled
You are the taste of morning tea and buiscuits,
being washed down to start the day
You are that Friday feeling,
knowing it’s the last day of school
You are a drop of rain,
falling from an umbrella to the empty dark sewers of doom
You are a dream catcher,
caching frightful thoughts and dreams,
scaring you for life
You are the number 3,
melting on a birthday cake,
pooring with frosting and sprinkles.
Phoebe #DPS
Phoebe
Darton Primary school (Class 9) #DPS
Rain-drops
A rain-drop is like a glistening gem falling from the sky. Like a tiny glass smashing on cars and rooftops. Like the tears of God. Like the grounds medicine. Like a doctor to trees and plants. Like a mother to fruit. Like the sadness of the sky. Making the clouds feel ill.
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