by Hannah aged 8

Here I have a new dog
We’ll always go out for a jog
But what dog should I take?
It had better be able to skate

But not too tall
Not too small
Not too tiny
Not too winy

Not too fat
Never wears a hat
Maybe a poodle
Does it eat noodles?

I can’t pick
I feel sick
Maybe a Chihuahua
Would it like a papaya

Or maybe a Labrador
Please don’t shut the door
Not too furry
Not too scruffy

Not too cute
Definitely not in a suit
Let me ask you
Do they wear shoes?


by Belle Lawton aged 7

In the fruit bowl there are
grapes and pears
Apples and a pineapple
Bananas and a water melon
An avocado and oranges

In My Bedroom

by Belle Lawton aged 7

I looked in my bedroom and there I saw
12 rappers
11 tiny toys
10 pink pillows
9 clammy covers
8 black boxes
7 tiny teddies
6 squishy sausages
5 chocolate bars
4 fake flames
3 flipping figures
2 pink pants
1 lime lolly

In My Bedroom

by Belle Lawton aged 7

Oh bedroom, oh bedroom you’re so messy
Oh bedroom, oh bedroom leave me a pressie
Oh bedroom, oh bedroom you’re so classy
Oh bedroom, oh bedroom you’re so sassy
Oh bedroom, oh bedroom, oh bedroom
Let me be snazzy

Little Red

by Tazkia Dokrat aged 9

Lovely little lady skips through the woods
Looking at all the blossom buds
In her basket are cakes and buns
Maybe lots, but surely not tons
Trekking through the forest on a stormy day
With a map to show her the way
Tip tap the rain starts to go
Putting on a watery show
Looking for her granny’s house
Trying to be as quiet as a mouse
Eating a Sunday roast goose
There’s a wolf on the loose

Legging it to granny’s place
As if it is a running race,
Entering the front door
He’s brought to a sight of gore,
Death is what he gets,
From the woodcutter as everyone bets!!

Mother Earth

by Harshita Das aged 11

The forests are green and bushy
Trees covered in fruits
Wild flowers at every edge
Growing ferociously
The mountains are steep and rocky
Jagged and uneven
Littered with animals
The river is roaring in its bed
The lake is sparkling calmly
The bright blue sky has no sign of clouds
Everything seems to be lively

And yet sometimes
I can’t help but wonder
If our beloved Earth
Were a human

Her eyes are stormy blue
Like the sky
Her temper like thunder
Always ready to strike
Her lips rosy and beautiful
And the smile on them
Is ever so calm
Like a sparkling lake
Her face marble white
Like the quartz found underneath
Her hair dark as the mud
Long and wavy
As they constantly blow against the breeze
And a tiara on top of them
Made of colourful flowers
Shining as brightly as the Sun
A green dress
Woven by grass
Sleeves stripped by vines
Gloves made of leaves
Encrusted with jewels
Diamonds and emeralds
Which are found beneath the Earth
Heeled sandals wooden like a bark
She walks tenderly
For, while she is as soft as a cloud
A small essence of an
Erupting volcano is also within

What it is to Really Feel

by Gaurika aged 12

As the aureate sunlight falls
on our tanned skins
and we breeze
through the plants nimbly

As the cool, gushing water
cascades down the stony path
and curls on our feet,
wiggling our toes

As the mellow tunes of birds
echo in our ears,
filling them with a mellifluous sound,
oh, the lovely strain!

As the shady trees
envelope us,
lingering on our faces,
caressing them,
brushing them.

What a merry feeling it is truly,
to be out in the wild,
where every sound is tangible
and every touch sings its own song.

Where every sight has its own smell,
and every waft, is visible.
Where a camaraderie forms
between humans and animals
and where the voice of the wild
reverberates in our hearts for ever!


by Harshita Das aged 11

The trees prepare themselves
For the cold and bitter nights
Of winter that will come
Leaves go pale
Then yellow
Then fall apart
Trees bare and branched
Surrounded by leaves
Each of a different hue

Just one autumn morning
I strolled along a park
The cool winter breeze
Wandered ferociously
Gently stinging my cheeks
Leaves everywhere I look around
Some fresh green and new
Just fallen from the trees
Few yellow and rotting
Just another lovely autumn day

A Flood Of Ink On The Pages

by Jemima:) aged 10

When I write my stories I go on an adventure
To WW2, Unicorn Land or the Olympic Games
All my thoughts gush out
Like a flood of ink on the pages

A waterfall of words
A fountain of feelings
A tower of tragedy
A jungle of joy
And just a sprinkle of mischief along the way

Stories can take you anywhere, anytime you want
That’s why I love them so much
It puts you in someone else’s shoes
Lets you explore the author’s imagination

Allows you to escape from all the miserable things in the world
And instead see the happy side of life
No nagging parents
No wars

No limits to what you can do
Your imagination land can be whatever you want it to be
Share your fantasy paradise with people all over the world with…
A flood of ink on the pages:)


by Harshita Das aged 11

Their feathers, both black
Sleek and shiny
They look alike
If only slightly bigger
One honest and proud
Another, dishonest
And yet, hard to tell apart
From their looks
Both look as innocent
As they look guilty
But when forced to speak
One sings like an angel
The other crows like a crow
And we know
For words have a lot of power
And there’s always a difference
And it isn’t how you are alike
But it is how you are different