Tag Archives | Woodland View Junior School

I want to paint

 

I  want to paint my dog, Milo, jumping through long green grass in a wide open field. I want to paint the sound of the cool wind blowing through the fresh grass. 

 

I want to paint ants marching like an army through the tunnels they dug. I want to paint the sound of tiny ants’ legs like the pitter-patter of rain. 

 

I want to paint the taste of the warm, delicious hot chocolate that I drank at Felixstowe in the Easter holidays. I want to paint the salty smell of the sea crashing against the rocks on the shore.

 

I want to paint a Domino’s pizza hot out of the oven with stringy, melted mozzarella.

 

I want to paint the end of this poem

I want to paint…

I want to paint my water bottle as it shimmers in the sunlight, while water is bursting out the top, sprinkling over my desk.I want to paint the wide ocean, tiny turtles dancing on the scarlet surface. 

I want to paint the taste of Hot Chocolate with marshmallows, whipped cream, as white as snow, tumbling down the side of my cup like an avalanche.

I want to paint the smell of cheese like the moon, while it is squashed in a crumberly cracker, lots of cheddar cheese all around like someone is trapped inside. 

I want to paint the sound of foot-steps of birds dancing in the moon-light. I want to paint the sound of a child hurriedly shouting at a man who was running rapidly. 

I want to paint the memory of my guinea pigs popcorning as I come to see their little faces, so happy and so sweet. 

I want to paint the colourful rainbow at the end of this poem.

I want to paint…

I want to paint the sweet summer morning with the glistening pink moon which is as fresh as a blossom tree but when you look up at the beautiful blossom petals falling from the subtle moon.

 

I want to paint the tweeting birds in the morning chirping away day and night. I want to paint the taste of a hot chocolate in a fancy delightful cafe on a cold winter morning with warm, melted marshmallows. I want to paint the fashion of the famous.

 

I want to paint the end of this poem.

I want to paint

I want to paint my lovely labrador Lunar, looking at me with her brown piercing eyes.

 

I want to paint the taste of surprisingly sweet spaghetti.

 

I want to paint  the smell of sweet smelling strawberries  on a summer’s day just waiting  on lush soil to be picked.

 

I want to paint  the buzzing of brilliant bees on a beautiful spring morning.

 

I want to paint the memory of my dog watching and waiting until I get home  and the  memories  that you wish that could  come back again.

 

I want to paint the brightness of roses on a summer day like snow on a cold winter’s night.

 

I want to paint  the warmness of a spring night  compared to a cold winter morning.

 

I want to paint the marching of ants compared to a marching band.

 

I want to paint  the pattering of rain on a cold windy night.

I want to paint

I want to paint ,

 

Fresh,blooming flowers the same color as a pink moon. As tall as a giraffe and as colorful as a rainbow. I want to paint the memory of my dog jumping up at me when I walk in the door with his loving black eye, staring at me with excitement.

 

I want to paint the taste of,

 

Pizza straight off the buring hot oven. When you open it a tornado of hot air fills the room. 

 

I want to paint the sound of,

 

Crackling fire by the brown back door of the brown old cub hut, the mesmerising flames dancing as the wind blows the flames everywhere like a tornado of fire 

 

I want to paint the impossibility of, 

 

To planets colliding like in movies.I want to paint the impossibility of a lamborghini made of shadows or a chair made of air.

 

I want to paint the end of this poem.

 

I want to paint

I want to paint,

My cute canine cuddling on my comfy couch,

A Lamborghini as fast and furious as a stroke of lightning,

A football player pulling on his flaming Nike neon football boots,

And the memory of my dad Dan running all the way around the world like a headless chicken.

 

I want to paint,

The taste of Hanks hot chocolate with warm, melted marshmallows, miraculously mesmerizing,

A Domino’s pizza with hot, runny, stringy mozzarella glistening in the ovens heat,

The sound of a  crazy cockerell clucking on the red round planet Mars,

the distance between the Galaxies dark deserted space like a black desert.

 

I want to paint the end of this poem

I want to paint…

I want to paint Spixworth Park, sitting on the oval, sparkling, cheesy moon, with baby Aliens play peacefully on the climbing frames, talking to their best-friends their green, funny looking faces smiling happily.

I want to paint a fantasy of immortal people dancing under the light of the blue moon, singing to their favourite songs with no frowns in site.

I want to paint the smell of a dosen warm, melted marshmallows,floating around silently around a toasty,red mug of hot chocolate, ready to be drunk eagerly.

I want to paint the smell of cold, damp grass being trampled on by children running down the empty, boring streets heading towards the colourful, not boring park.

I want to paint the memory of my Nan’s old Cockapoo Paddy, rolling around the floor happily, cheering me up by always playing dolls with me when ever he got the chance, when I was younger.

I want to paint the impossibility of all the Marvel Universes combining like all the exciting colours on a extraordinary colour French easel. I want to finally paint the end of this poem.

 

I want to paint…

 I want to paint the memory of my Nanny’s dog Flash and my other dog Happy up on the cozy, warm sofa lying near the steaming hot fireplace, while they’re owners cover  them up with a huge fluffy white blanket.

 

I want to paint the alarm clock bell that goes off for the end of school and children sprinting around trying to be the first to get out of school.

 

I want to paint the smell of a bunch of colourful flowers which smell like lavender mixed with blossom! 

 

I want to paint the  delicious taste of fresh, warm,  pizza coming out of the roasting hot oven.

 

I want to paint the taste of freshly warmed donuts coming out of a donut oven, covered with nutella sauce and sprinkles. 

 

I want to paint a zealous Zebra bouncing around in a big open field full of yellow and pink shimmery grass.

 

I want to paint the picture of me going to my Nanny Pam’s house and witnessing her dog Flash coming over to me with his duck duck toy in his mouth, ready to encounter me with hugs and kisses. 

 

I want to paint…

I want to paint…

The end of this poem! 

 

I want to paint.

I want to paint.

I want to paint.

I want to paint.

The crowd roaring when Horsford Hurricanes 

Win the cup.

I want to paint.

The taste of a warm marshmallow drowning in the mesmerising

Hot-Chocolate with the fire crackling like Santa’s grotto. 

 I want to paint.

The sound of my nanna’s dog.

I want to paint.

The idea of England winning the world cup.

I want to paint.

The memory of the Duke of Edinburgh.

I want to paint.

The impossibility of West Brom winning the premier league

I want to paint…

I want to paint my fluffy Newfoundland Rose jumping up at me when I come back from school.

I want to paint the salty, blue sea calm and quiet like a silence in the night.

I want to paint stars laying down on the inky, black night sky.

I want to paint the deepest dept of the deep, dark ocean, the midnight zone where creatures of the unknown hide. 

I want to paint a Shire horse galloping through a wide open field, its wavy mane and tail floating in the wind behind it.

I want to paint the taste of freshly picked strawberries mixed with rich cream and sparkly sugar like millions of tiny diamonds.

I want to paint the taste of warm waffles spreaded with Nutella and sprinkled with powdered sugar.

I want to paint the taste of summer fruits, all colliding against my tongue as if they were making a smoothie in a blender.

I want to paint the sound of snow crunching under my feet as I walk through a snow covered forest, like a winter wonderland. 

I want to paint the sound of the waves lapping inside a shell like a whole new world.

I want to paint the sound of howler monkeys howling in the night.

I want to paint the end of this poem.