Year 9 Laurel Poetry

The poem that each student was asked to write was on a view and vision of Australia that they might be familiar with.

0106 by Ashley Arcigal

The first of June.

Our cold midnight sky is speckled with silent stars.

Tree’s life crumples,

Preparing for their blossom.

Wind herself whistles between crevices,

Slowly over the exposed branches.

She twists and turns,

Making the lifeless dancers.

Atop the crowd’s buzz,

Peeking through the shrivelling flora

The sun shies away;

With frostbitten green basking in her loving aura.

Hidden away is an embrace.

Bound together by shivers and steaming tea.

Melting dews glissade down the glassy barrier,

Illustrating a rather intriguing piece –

Much more than the picture gambolling on the screen.

Secrets exchanged,

Warm brews are shared;

Something starts to grow.

Our country then awaits the morning:

The leaving of our snow.

Alas a blossom has sprung.

Pastel pinks and bright yellow,

The sun smiles her best.

“Goodbye” we say,

“See you soon.”

We can’t wait for next year,

For the end of August.

Beach of Bliss by Jenny Pham

The delicate rustle of shifting tides

Unites the harmonious feathered creatures’ glide

In utter bliss they swift through the tranquil ripples

Tinted as an immersed zaffre pupils

Cascaded under the hazed azure horizon 

The supple glisten of crystal plethora mesmerises 

She forces upon a serene breeze 

To relieve the mind at ease

Minuscule dunes of beige silk 

A luminous shade adjacent to milk 

Aloft the plethora that accentuates forbidden curiosity 

Blazes the honeycomb monstrosity 

Unraveling icebound flesh 

A tepid refresh 

That Odd, Winter Season by Angela Cremona

As the bright sky darkens

Ever so quickly,

And the city lights sparkle

Ever so radiantly,

I realise that this time of the year has finally come,

My ears are numb, my hands are dry,

And that harsh wind doesn’t seem to want to let me go.

But though it seems so cold,

With that pouring rain drenching my clothes,

It is nothing compared to that old,

White winter legend.

There is no snow to cover the streets,

Nor are there any twinkling red and green lights.

No intricate snowflakes fall from the sky,

And instead we are gifted with heavy, soppy rain.

What an odd country,

What an odd season.

While they all go snowboarding,

We all layer in blankets.

But while they deal with freezing temperatures,

Our lowest will be 10,

Theirs’s will be -16.

And so, they can suffer in that freezing cold,

And scrape that snow off their covered roads.

While we cover up in scarfs and gloves,

No need for anything more.

And even so, time will tick,

And the sun sets dimmer on each passing day.

And soon spring will come,

Bringing with it warmth and joy.

So perhaps our odd winter is not so bad after all,

Because despite its lacking in snow and festivities,

We are instead gifted with warmer days,

Saving us from the icy cold of a white winter’s day.