Cookies

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by Mia Harkins aged 12

I feel like a lot of people can relate
to the never-failing love for all the cookies on my plate.

Sweet, delicate, chocolate chip.
I glance at the milk, then take a sip.

Even raisin, sugar, or oatmeal
cause’ any kind of cookie is a good deal.

Every cookie, every crumb
these beauties make my heart go numb.

The excitement within me grows and grows
at the pace of the aroma drifting into my nose.

Without realizing, I may have eaten over thirty-one
Any regrets? Ha! None.

Spring

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by Muskaan Sengupta aged 12

In spring there rests a gentle breeze,
accompanied by the swaying branches of the light oak tree.
The evenly split moon lays silently among the gleaming stars,
complementing the deep blue sheet woven in the sky.
It rests beautifully till its bright counterpart illuminates the day.
The deep, crisp layer of frost trickles away,
crackling like a fire at the hearth.
The now awoken spring characters scatter
and leap around the pre-greening grass.
The morning dew drops
dance around the otherwise bare vegetation.
The rain crawls from the sky,
refreshing the thirsty passengers down below.

The Arts

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by Muskaan Sengupta aged 12

Many say we have faded away
Science replaces arts for tomorrow and today
I object, there’s more to say
The arts can never fade away

Our shining time has come and passed
Wait, then how could you describe the trees, the grass
Innovation may come and bring us light
But arts won’t back down without a fight

Music, speech, artistic views
Are quite important, it’s not old news
I’ll be honest, I’ll tell the truth
Science is crucial, but arts are too!

Wait! A resolution has come to be,
We can work together you see?
I’ll draw and design your creation to be
You’ll make our invention, just for me!

When combined we work like magic,
Separate us though? Oh we’ll be tragic
A balance of contrast, can it be true?
Of course, it can! Like me and you.

The Eternal Game

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by Muskaan Sengupta aged 12

The grazing buffalo nips the grass heads, unaware of the sly beast eyeing it
They duel in an infinite battle of danger: to chase and to be chased, to hunt, and to flee, to live or to die
Silently pawing its way closer, the cougar prays that her meal doesn’t catch sight of her
She depends on her hiding spot to take on the kind of prey she hasn’t dreamed of in days
As she rounds the corner, preparing her leap of faith, a fellow lion roars from miles away
The startled prey checks all around her, spotting the cougar and desperately running at great speed.

With the buffalo already traveling a great distance, this mother cougar is desperately trying to feed her family of four
She takes a sharp left turn hoping to catch up with her family’s only hope of survival
She slowly, yet steadily closes the distance between the buffalo and herself with mere meters between them
As the moment of truth approaches, she realizes she’s losing the buffalo to its will to survive
It’s not the only one though, this mother cougar hasn’t had more than a small hare in days, and will do anything to eat
She hurries into a sprint, achieving distance closure like never before, she knows how short-lived it is though
She can sprint a few meters before slowing down, but she had to try.

With her chance slipping by, this cougar must act quickly or she’ll starve and never again see the light of day
Although the situation is not perfect she impulsively, yet instinctively leaps in the air pouncing down on the hind of the buffalo
Her sharp paws scrape it, drawing blood, the tired, now weak buffalo falls to the savannah floor, violently kicking her.
In one swift movement, the off-guard cougar incurs a breathtaking blow to the head, leaving it bewildered
In the split second the buffalo receives, it scurries off, leaving the cougar in the dust.
It seems all is lost for this cougar, till she continues her journey, and spots an unsuspecting fawn sipping from a watering hole.
The life of one is the life of the other.
And, so the eternal game of prey and predator, is played on.

My Ol’ Grandfather Clock

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by Muskaan Sengupta aged 12

I’ve an ol’ grandfather clock
Its hands move along, tick-tock!
Grey, and brown, and lined with grime,
Oh well, at least he tells time!
Then again, telling the time doesn’t need a Sherlock…

One Inch Tall

2
by Abhiruchi Mahanta aged 9

If you were one inch tall,
a dolls’ house would be a great hall,
the shower will be a storm,
and a little piece of thread would be a long white worm.

If you were one inch tall,
you would have to run miles for a call,
The wall would be two thousand feet tall,
be careful because you can fall!

If you were one inch tall,
it would be easy to get lost in a mall,
a feather would be a soft bed,
and a leaf could become a big shed.

Henry the Naughty Boy

2
by Nishi Gupta aged 9

Henry! Henry!
Where are you?
Come back fast,
You naughty boy!
Till I cook the apple pie.

My Dogs

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by Elsie aged 12

I have three dogs,
Big and small,
Two are short and one is tall,
Collie cross spaniel,
Huntaway cross collie,
And dachshund cross Jack Russel,
One bark is loud,
One acts excitable,
The other likes to chew the legs of the table!
Happy dogs running around,
Playing with each other,
Having fun,
Lying happily in the sun.

Poetry

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by Charlotte aged 8

Oh poetry poetry,
It’s like a game,
One where you can
Laugh and dance,
And shout and sing,

Oh poetry poetry,

My favourite thing.

Morning

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by Alexandra Prideaux aged 5

Dew drops sparkle like stars in the night sky.
Beautiful voices tweeting from high
Up in trees waving calmly above the milky haze.
Perfume of flowers.
Tranquil spring days.