a french issue

H guys it' me Izzy and I'm back with a French poem I've been working on for a few weeks in French with Mrs Knight - she is very proud.  Hannah Jeffery has also been working hard on her French writing.  Hannah wrote 3 pages so this poem is for you Hannah.

Le Jour de Noel



This is about Christmas and everything that goes on in Christmas

Continuing the French theme, the poem below is by a French poet called Jacques Prevert.  One of his poems is called Breakfast and is about a row at breakfast.  It is very interesting because the trick to this poem is short lines that are like instructions but they come together with meaning.

Rememberence

Remembrance


The rabbits are scared
Bang! Bang! Bang!
They go in their holes
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The noise stops
No bang! Bang! Bang!
The poppies come out


by Kaylee and Ruby Ayling (3K)

We wrote this poem because we feel sorry for the animals that have died in the wars.  This poem is to help people remember all those animals.

Warsash Poetry Trail

Last year's Y6 children wrote beautiful poetry on many subjects and some of those inspired by the environment are now being displayed along the Warsash Poetry Path at Warsash Common.  

The poetry path runs parallel with the tree trail at Warsash Common which has twelve native trees along the path and individual information sheets about each tree giving facts about ecology and botanical features, uses made of the wood and some superstitions and myths associated with them. The Poetry Path incorporates the poems written by our children on six poetry posts and two poetry trees around the site. The tree trail and poetry path form a self-guided circular walk around the Warsash Common Local Nature Reserve which is approximately 1.5km in length and can be walked all year.  The walk incorporates a wide variety of different habitats which includes open grasslands, water bodies as well as wet and dry woodlands.  

Details of the walk can be found at http://www.fareham.gov.uk/PDF/leisure/treetrail_print.pdf

Here is one of the poems by Harriet Whitaker, then age 11.

Mother Of Winter

The winter frost slept on the skies above

waiting to crawl down to the crispy grass below.

Slowly moving with the wind

the milk white frost landed.

She did it - mother of winter

slowly winding and swirling her frozen crystalized fingers

building up blossoms of ice.

Fluffy white bits of snow climbed down to the white winter land below.

She did it again, but this time she whipped her nettles of hair

and made a snow kissed icicle

winding down to the endless row of white.

But white can be worse than black -

killing rectory red roses,

turning them light grey as she passes by

the arsenic green leaves collapsed to the ground

and the blue skies turned white.

This is winter.

DEAL WITH IT!

Extracts from a harvest prayer book

These prayers were written by 5C.  The children studied the prayers of thanksgiving from several different cultures and looked closely at their message.  The looked at Christian prayers and got a sense of the patterns, rhythms and words that often characterise these prayers.  Each child wrote a prayer and produced a copy to go in a Harvest Prayer Book which was presented to St Nicholas Church, Boarhunt as part of a special harvest festival on 7th October 2015.


Ella Kerr

Zoe Evans

Harley Pettitt

Max Amos



Nellie Podesta


 

Butterfly's Breath

We have decided that we will put on other poets' poems . In school we have made a poet tree to let the other students express their feelings in a poem or find their favourite  to stick on . We have chosen Butterfly's Breath by the American poet  Richard Brautigan because we enjoy the image of the simile.

Butterfly's Breath

The moon throws,
A shadow upon the night.
The shadow is as silent
As the birth of a rose,
And the shadow is as soft
As a butterfly's breath.

Church poems

Hi again it's Izzy and Izzy and we have more poems to share with you and these were written as we sat inside St Mary's Church, Steep.  We also decided to put on some kneeler designs by children in our class which were inspired by the beautiful kneelers at St Mary's.

Amen
The church bells ring,
and the choir sings,
The organ starts to play,
The angels watch over us,
I kneel down on the soft kneeler to pray.

Voices in the grave
The holy spirit rises,
Footsteps of the past show their way through heaven's gate.

All Saints Church
All Saints Church is built with bricks and stones,
Each kneeler sewn delicately with signs of nature,
The stained glass windows have symbols of the past,
The vicar's voice echoes through the church,
The candles flicker and die away slowly

This is a penguin kneeler by Bradley Lowery

This is a cricket kneeler by Darryn Stares

This is a dolphin kneeler by Lottie Parks

Izzy Inspires Izzy

Hi this is Izzy & Izzy's Wicor poetry blog.
This is a first for our school.  Standing in the Physic Garden, we had a moment of inspiration where we realised we could write about anything and everything, the world is our oyster. There are no limits in poetry and so we started this blog. Our poetry has really been inspired by our class trips in 5C, especially our visits to Petersfield Physic Garden and All Saints Church at Steep and earlier this year a pilgrimage to St Nicholas, South Boarhunt.
Me and Izzy were given the challenge of capturing the day in Petersfield in poetry and that's when it all happened - the inspiration and all that.

The Garden

You walk in,

And a burst of colours jump out,

The sweet smells fill the garden with joy,

The sun shines on the sundial,

The different shades of green pop out,

The garden glows brightly as you wander round,

You look up at the wall,

And see the birds singing sweetly,

You watch the garden in wonder,

                             And then you walk back through the arch that led you in.

                                       By Izzy and Izzy

The Secret Garden Gate
Everyday I stare through,
Wondering what it holds behind,
Is there another garden?
A park?
A pond?
One day I spot a key,
I open the gate and step through.

By Izzy Kaye







The Secret Garden Gate
The shadow of the secret garden gate,
Makes children wonder what it holds behind it,
A pond?
A forest?

One night, I dreamt that I found the key,
It unlocked a mysterious world full of magical creatures,
Fairies, Unicorns.

Then my dream slipped away and I woke up.

By Izzy Gage