First Fruit

Thanks to Matt, Kristian, Amelia, Imogen, Anela, Emily F., Chloe, Issie, Kathryn, Gabrielle, Beth, Emily K.U, Beth, Katie, Matt and Callum.

You came to Writer's Group and broke Snoopy's Writer's Block thusly:

It was a dark and stormy night ...in my mind!

It was a dark and stormy night...mysterious figures kept to the shadows.

It was a dark and stormy night...but the day before it was quite the opposite.

It was a dark and stormy night...the moon hung limply among the stars, while a tall male in a long, dark trench coat trudged through the mud.

It was a dark and stormy night and sinister silhouettes loomed on the horizon as lightning flashed across the obsidion sky.

It was a dark and stormy night...Windows had unfortunately crashed.

Next we speculated about the existence of a Room 52 at Corfe Hills...

...a curious room that held no tables, no chairs, no teachers and no pupils.

...where corridors shrink,

the further you walk.

Finally closing

forever.

In a very odd twist I had a room change the following week that directed my Year 10s to Rm 52! On the usual yellow slip pinned to the door. Just ask Matt, Anela, Emily, Gabrielle, Kathryn, Chloe and Issie. It was their class!

Origins of a Writer's Group/ Beth Grew's poem

I hope Beth doesn't mind. I thought her poem 'Clay Work' would be a good place to begin.

Clay Work

Sculpting her features

Like her smile and her eyes

Big bright blue pools

Of magic and light

Her smile will be kind

Engaging wonders of life

And soft words that emerge

Will be a sweet song verse

The clay magic's moulded

Has kept beauty beneath

For the creator's eyes only

So marvellous and deep.

Beth says: This poem is about my dad, who makes pots. I have turned the pot into a human that he has sculpted, to show how he interprets his art into beauty.

A meditation on creativity and inspiration? It makes me think of a Neil Young song called 'The Painter'.

Mr La Rose's First Visit

Poet, Jacob Sam La Rose first visited us in the Autumn Term of 2008. Here's a picture of Zuber, Giles and Andrew enjoying themselves.

These poems were written:


ESSENCE OF A SOUL

Happiness is the sand that runs through your fingers,
Sorrow is the wind that takes it away,
Love is the butterfly delicate but strong,
Hate is the net that that captures its freedom,
Fear is the darkness which consumes all,
Anger is the flame that burns it away,
Boredom is the chalkboard covered in sums,
Excitement is the school bell at the end of the day.
Emotion comes to these eight things in whole,
And together form the essence of a soul.

Matt Miles

A disease that spreads
From mouth to mouth,
Fist to fist. Squawking
Like a crow in the night.
Its voice screams in your ears,
Fills your body
With unbearable heat.
The heat escapes,
From mouth to mouth,
Fist to fist.
Causing pain, devouring
Happiness.

Zuber Hakizimfura

A bright yellow flower
In dry, dull grass.
A tropical breeze
Sweetened by cinnamon.
Gentle waves crashing
With a humble melody.
Coming and going,
Ending and beginning.

Love.

Alex Cake.