Tag Archives | S5 St Cuthbert’s Catholic Primary

The magical bag

You are the happies when Liverpool wins the league .

You are exhausted when the clocks tern 3am .

You are December lighting up the  word on Christmas day.

You are a wizard casting a spell on a huge green frog.

You are a terrifying glass eye looking a me weird.

You are a terrifying girl hiding is a pitch black cave afraid of the world .

You are a forgotten cat when you missing.

You are the smell of a summer day.

You  are number 1 running down the pitch like flash.

You are as quiet as a mouse getting his cheese .

You are as slow as a lazie sloth .

You are a beautiful girl waking in the room making it glow up .

You are as fast as Tommy Fury in a boxing mach agents Jake Paul.

You are the end.

The Poem of Time

You are fearful on the Eiffel tower when it is about to tremendously topple to the ground like a ship on thick ice

You are 2:00 clock ready to chime your love to one and other

You are December, blissful and pleased for Christmas cheer

You are magical like a unicorn dancing and prancing with fairies

You are smart like a brain pinched for school like a crab

You are the Sun spreading gas and barbicels to the world

You are hiding in a pitch black wardrobe ready to come and waste away forever

You are forgotten in their memory forever

You are eating a mars bar that is melting in your mouth like a snail slithering away

You are a number 1 in the world

You are as quick as Tom Fury and the flash

You are as slow as a snail and like an old, decrepit lady with a wooden walking stick.

You are a girl hanging out with her friends talking about the boys

You are a boy hanging out with the boys talking about games

You are the poems thread tied neatly together like a shoelace

You are the end

The craziness

You are fearful when you reach the top of an eye burning, hot volcano which it’s about to explode.

You are breakfast time always want to eat caring, scrummy cereal.

You are December hoping for freezing frosty snow this year.

You are a despicable, nasty witch trying to find the last ingredient for her potions.

You are an arm holding the fresh milk from the fridge.

You are Venus hoping for the sun to cool down for the frosty winter.

You are under a soft, cuddling blanket peeking through so no-one can see you.

You are a poor puppy lost in the dark, dull streets.

You are the taste of a sour, sweet lemon.

You are the number 12 because your graceful age is 12.

You are as quick as a blood sucking cheetah running a marathon.

You are as slow as a slimy snail sliding around his slime.

You are as quiet as a little, squeaky mouse running in the sewers.

You are Jon Paul trying to show of his awesome skills at football

You are Lacey P trying to play hide and seek but she was the first person found.

You are the poem’s thread, tied nearly together like a shoelace.

You are The End.

The Pome of Food

You are a girl footballer attempting all the players.

You are a boy successively hopping in a beanbag race trembling tripping over the line.

 

You are the poem’s threads, tied neatly together like shoelace. You are the end

Poem of Everything

You are the sly, slithery, snake on the wet slivery sea.

You are the fiery hell which concords the shiny earth every full moon.

You are the gloomy spirits of the magical fairy tail, wizards.

You are the burnt exhausted foot of the mighty Usain Bolt while he ran the 100 meter run.

You are the slivery shiny planet which crash into the isolated moon the thing we call home.

You are the terrified victims of Michael Myers hiding in the wooden closets all night long.

You are the forgotten ancient shard of pure love.

You are the taste of a love made steak in the greasy oven.

You are the confusing numbers in the endless matrix.

You are as quick as Usain Bolt on the rock hard tarmac.

You are as slow as a slow slug going down someone saliva like a slip and slide.

You are as quiet as a creaking door in a terrifying horror movie.

You are the boy as pale as the transparent clouds.

You are the girl sucking on a juicy watermelon dripping with taste.

You are the poems thread tied nearly together like a shoelace.

You are the end.

The Animal Poem

You are a spec of hatred floating ominously in the air on a depressing Monday.

You are 15:30 on a Friday evening getting ready for the crazy, fun weekend!

You are a crisp cold December morning freezing your fingers off.

You are a magic Puppy corn flying in the galaxy night sky.

You are a bright blue lip quivering in the freezing cold.

You are Saturn’s 8 ring spiraling around its home planet.

You are hiding under the blankets when you were 5.

You are a forgotten memory in the back of your adventurous mind.

You are a green Jolly rancher melting in a ginormous microwave.

You are scared of 7 because 7 ate 9.

You are as quick as Usain Bolt on an Olympic ground.

You are as slow as a tiny turtle crossing an enormous motorway.

You are as quiet as a cute snake slithering across a sandy desert.

You are a boy flopping over onto a pile of cloud like snow.

You are a girl who was frozen to a cold hearted shadow.

You are the poems threads tied neatly together like a shoelace.

You are the end!!!!