Year 7 English
Creating a Poetry Anthology
Students in Year 7E have been writing poems in their Writer's Notebook. These poems will be included in their own Poetry Anthology.
sisterhood
my sister is amazing.
She is the air I breath.
She is annoying.
I sometimes think she was sent to me from hell.
Sent down to destroy my deepest dreams and hopes.
But I always decide,
My sister is the dream.
Full of hope
And respect.
She is more then a human.
She is a dark angel.
She is honest- always.
But quiet.
Secretive.
My sister is always chattering.
She is a bird with golden feathers.
She is happy.
She has friends.
I’m her friend.
She will always have friends.
She is not delicate.
She is strong.
She is a boulder.
The forever unmoving thing.
In my life.
She is briony.
In real games
In real games.
In real games I'm always on the pitch.
In real games I’m not
Stressed,
anxious
or guilty.
In real games I’m not
Weak,
wimpy
or sad.
In real games I'm a co-captain.
In real games I have been a captain.
In real games sometimes I'm the star.
In real games I'm a brick wall no one can get past.
In real games,
In real games,
In real games I’m a defender,
A boss,
A queen,
A friend.
In real games I'm better.
Better than him.
Better than all of them.
In real games I’m
Me,
Myself.
In real games I'm happy.
In real games they notice me.
They fear me.
They love me.
In real games I have friends
by Harriet
Colour Poem – Yellow
Yellow is the colour of sun beams on a warm day,
The colour of warm sand at the beach in summer,
Yellow is the colour of the sunset, setting gently on the horizon,
It smells like the ocean, salty and calming,
It tastes like lemonade, sweet and citrusy,
Yellow sounds like the chirping of birds on a cool autumn’s day,
Yellow feels like the wool of the unfinished scarf in my draw at home,
Yellow makes me happy, makes me feel at home,
Yellow is the colour of peace,
Of calmness.
by Amber C
Black
Black is the colour of peace.
Of war.
Black is the colour of darkness.
Of light.
Black is the colour of heaven.
Of hell.
Yet.
Black is not a colour.
It is a shade.
The shade of a tree the leaves, splintered light fracturing to the ground.
The shadow, of our hearts.
The shade of emotion.
On every move we make.
Black smells like the crispy marshmallows on a fire.
Freshly retrieved from the glowing coals.
The burning, aching
Heat.
Black tastes like nothingness.
Like a drink of water after a sweltering day.
Nothingness.
Black sounds like the noise that is silent.
White noise.
That you hear those times you zone out…
You hear nothing.
Black looks like the times when you close your eyes.
And you see the splotches of colour.
A rainbow.
Black feels like the cold.
Yet,
You feel warm.
Like a cold winters night.
Wrapped in a blanket.
Black.
It makes us cry.
It makes me laugh.
It fills the empty holes in the universe.
And in ourselves.
Black is not a colour.
It is a shade.
by Harriet
Death
Death is the hand of the plague,
Death can flatten land,
Death comes to collect but gives,
Death is famine,
Death is greed to some,
You cannot cheat Death as it is only one.
Orange
Orange is like the sun setting,
Orange is vibrant like the fur of a tiger,
Orange is the sweet taste of summer,
Orange is as fresh as Autumn,
Orange smells like the leaves dropping,
Orange tastes like fresh citrus from a tree,
Orange sounds like the ruffle of leaves,
Orange looks like the back of summer,
Orange feels like a smooth Earth,
Orange makes me feel like winter has arrived,
Orange is as unique as Venus.
by Charlie C