Unholy

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by Gaurika Mehrotra aged 13

Pious man, smeared forehead,
Vermilion hue, tad bit darker than red,
Erect deportment, walks straight,
Keeps to his time, does not want to be late,
No distractions, disturbances of any kind,
Intellectual, erudite, brightest of minds,
Hands secure delectable variety, for him,
Food nearly spilling over, up to the brim,

Ahead lies a vagrant, old and shriveling,
Veins showing through his body, quivering,
Eyes deprived of bliss,
The sight seems amiss,
Emaciated, nearly crippled, hands folded,
In prayer, like a naughty boy being scolded,
Ribs feeble, protruding grotesquely from beneath the skin,
The unfair road of life, did he commit a sin?
Eyes fixed on the religious man, implore,
For alms, his hair hoar,
But no one cared,
Nay, instead they were scared,
Of the ghastly beggar, on the floor,
Who only seemed to want more?

Greedy! The pious man pronounced him to be,
“Oh, the others may be fooled but I can see!
That he begs, for he is lazy, he does not want to work!
And so like a ghost he will lurk,
On this street till some fool takes pity,
Falls into his trap, perhaps someone from the city,
But, I won’t donate one grain,
For I am sane,
After all, this…beggar will make the food unholy,
With his unconsecrated touch, Golly!
How awful it would be to have him eat this meal,
That, my dear wife prepared with zeal,
And which I’m about to offer to the almighty himself, the lord,
Who by his kind grace has bless’d my family and I, Oh lord,
The least I can do is place at your feet,
Clean, healthy offerings, nice and neat,”
Pious man walks by, furrowed brows, scowl,
at the begging man, his only possession – a grimy cowl,
“Get up! And off with you, I don’t want to see you
Anywhere near here again, or I’ll sue you,”
Dignity mixed in the mud, the beggar scampers away,
Without any words, he has no say,
Just those unforgettable pleading eyes,
That will taunt you for the rest of your lives,
Pious man reaches the temple, food in his hands,
At his feet lies sand,
Caking his toes,
His bows low,
Places his offering at the lord’s feet,
Says a prayer that sounds very sweet,
Lifts his head, clean shaven,
“My lord! You are the maven!”
Head bowed in veneration, seeks,
A blessing, but oh dear something reeks,
“Unholy”…so ironic isn’t it?
Don’t you feel it just a bit?
The food that couldn’t satisfy a ravenous, dying vagrant,
The food not given to him, that deed is flagrant.
Serve as many ostentatious presents as you may please,
But you will be regarded as a fallen man, on his knees,
How oh erudite, greatest of them minds,
Will you satisfy, him, the superior kind?

Cats vs Dogs

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by Shaniya aged 9

Cats are boring
but dogs are active,
Which would you choose?
I choose dogs,
but it is still,
CATS VS DOGS!

No, cats are active,
No, gs are boring
but it is still,
CATS VS DOGS!

Be Safe

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by Rayhaan aged 8

We all get excited for a sports game
but don’t get too excited
It could get competitive
So stay safe.

We all like to have fun
But sometimes fun becomes dangerous
So stay safe.
Always stay safe!

The Sea

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by Rayhaan Hossain aged 8

Soft, grainy and glistening sand.
Endless waves splashing the shore.
Amazing scenery.

Art

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by Tazkia Dokrat aged 10

Art is an expression
We use it whenever
It’s all around us
What you’re wearing now
Your furniture, house, carpet
Colouring or sewing
They just calm us
Graffiti-ing or dancing
They’re forms of art
Singing or performing
The art of creativity.

The Wasp

5
by Abigail Grant aged 10

Buzz, the wasp, is a horrible creature,
his sting is by far his favourite feature.
Day and night he’s a real beast,
So are his friends (there are twenty- at least!)

When, one day, he was buzzing through the air,
and his friends came back with an apple and a pear,
‘Yes!’ he said, ‘it’s very yummy!
So go get me some bread and honey!’
His friends gave him vegetables, fruit and stuff,
But Buzz proclaimed, ‘This isn’t enough!’

By day he kept growing bigger and bigger,
then a boy came along and with a snigger
said, ‘You can’t nearly grow as big as me,
try if you like, and then you’ll see.’

Buzz didn’t appreciate the little boy’s call,
so he ate the boy up, glasses and all!
So what’s the moral of this story, you say?
If it’s sunny, don’t go out to play.
And if you do feel like playing out in the sun,
and you meet a wasp – don’t make fun!

Sword and Shield

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by Harshita Das aged 12

Each person has a sword and a shield
They attack and they defend
Some use words, others their hands
Weapons prevent our end

Sharp words at someone cause severe wounds
To someone without a stronger shield
The one with a stronger will
Will be left standing on the field

But what if an undefeatable sword
Came into the presence of a shield which couldn’t break?
Would they both survive the ordeal
Or would they both break?

Sharp Shards

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by Harshita Das aged 12

Sharp shards are tough
Yet they are forged from delicate glass
They reflect the whiteness around
Not overshadow their dark

They can penetrate deep
They can cover someone in red
They are killers in plain sight
They can drop a person dead

Yet then, why are they so elegant?
Crystal-like beauty which pierces through
They attract you towards harm
Am I attracted too?

Autumn

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by Elsie aged 12

As I walk, leaves crunch below my feet,
A crisp layer of leaves lie before me,
A gust of wind twirls them up into the air,
Forming a dance, a routine.
Hedgehogs, foxes, badgers, bunnies,
Owls and squirrels
Love the autumn scenery,
The falling leaves,
The high and tall trees,
The burrows that can be made,
The storage space.
Autumn is great,
Autumn is ace!

Firefox

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by Harshita Das aged 12

A mystical being, with a flaming tail
With endless knowledge and a fiery trail
Its vision is a blue ball, ablaze with passion
It curls around the world, its sanction

Rumour has it that it is a fox
The most powerful, mythical, magical –

Wait, let me google its name