Monday, 16 November 2009
Any questions?
If you have any questions for me, post them up here and I will post the answer as quickly as I can!
A little poem called a 'Senses Poem'
This is just a little poem I made up. I must say a big thank you to 'The Works' because it has taught me the meanings of many poems, and given me inspiration to write some. This poem is called a senses poem because it is a poem that has five paragraphs, each with one sense in it.
E.G:
I saw the flames licking the sky.
I was there, you see.
I heard the merry cracks of the bonfire.
I was there, you see.
I tasted the bitter clash of cold and heat on my tongue.
I was there, you see.
I smelt the spirals of smoke that stung my nose.
I was there, you see.
I touched my numb cheeks and smiled.
I was there, you see.
E.G:
I saw the flames licking the sky.
I was there, you see.
I heard the merry cracks of the bonfire.
I was there, you see.
I tasted the bitter clash of cold and heat on my tongue.
I was there, you see.
I smelt the spirals of smoke that stung my nose.
I was there, you see.
I touched my numb cheeks and smiled.
I was there, you see.
Homeless Paragraph
I started this off for a little competition but I forgot about it and it got past the deadline. This means that I've got this little bit of text on my hands that I don't know what to do with but quite like- I thought I might as well put it up!
It is a magical land with lush green grass and neat flowerbeds. Wherever you look there is a fairy, a troll, a gnome, an elf, a pixie.
At night there are beautiful little lanterns, which the best spiders weave out of fine gossamer. During twilight the gnomes catch fireflies with perfect little nets and gently place them into the lanterns. At nine of the clock all the female fairies are elegantly waltzing in mid air, while the males join the elves and leprechauns for a little thimble of Fizta, their favourite drink. The trolls and gnomes play card games on small barrels, as they are a little bigger than the others. They have a clock tower in the middle of the miniature village. In it lives a beautiful fairy, who goes by the name of Marina. She wears gorgeous dresses and cheeky little boots, all of them a deep sapphire blue. At twelve of the clock Marina sends out a little bluebird to dance in the sky. This tells all of the little folk that they must go into their houses immediately. The reason of this is that there were also giants living in this little town. The only thing preventing these vast beings from crush the little town is that they made a deal with the smaller folk of the town. The first twelve hours of the day were the little folk’s. Then, as soon as the clock struck twelve pm, the giants ruled the land.
It is a magical land with lush green grass and neat flowerbeds. Wherever you look there is a fairy, a troll, a gnome, an elf, a pixie.
At night there are beautiful little lanterns, which the best spiders weave out of fine gossamer. During twilight the gnomes catch fireflies with perfect little nets and gently place them into the lanterns. At nine of the clock all the female fairies are elegantly waltzing in mid air, while the males join the elves and leprechauns for a little thimble of Fizta, their favourite drink. The trolls and gnomes play card games on small barrels, as they are a little bigger than the others. They have a clock tower in the middle of the miniature village. In it lives a beautiful fairy, who goes by the name of Marina. She wears gorgeous dresses and cheeky little boots, all of them a deep sapphire blue. At twelve of the clock Marina sends out a little bluebird to dance in the sky. This tells all of the little folk that they must go into their houses immediately. The reason of this is that there were also giants living in this little town. The only thing preventing these vast beings from crush the little town is that they made a deal with the smaller folk of the town. The first twelve hours of the day were the little folk’s. Then, as soon as the clock struck twelve pm, the giants ruled the land.
Just a little play around with pictures and words...
I got a random picture from the internet and made a story beginning out of it. Tell me what you think of it! It gave me the impression of it being a bit old-fashioned so that's what this paragraph is based on.
Here it is:
Alice tied the strings of her bonnet tighter and held up her skirts as high as she could. She crouched, the soggy leaves trailing on her well powdered neck. She musn’t be seen by the matron. Or anybody for that matter. She was running away. Her plan was to hide in the bramble bushes, then find a job as a maid. It was a typical five year old’s plan. Alice was the daughter of the duke, but she didn’t want to be. She wanted to run free and wild like every five year old should, not stuck in important meetings with silly old ambassadors. Alice scurried through the undergrowth, her face alight with her future. Her dress by now was torn and her face covered in scratches. Blood trickled down her nose and Alice frowned. Most five year olds are impatient and Alice was no exception to the rule. She wanted to get to the main road quickly, but the bramble bushes seemed to go on forever! Suddenly she tripped over a tree root and tumbled head over heels through the bramble bush. She stopped abruptly at Matron’s feet. Alice looked up and their eyes met, just for a second, but long enough to send a message. Matron put a finger to her lips and dusted Alice off. Then, hand in hand, they walked back to the grand old building of Alice’s father’s.
Here it is:
Alice tied the strings of her bonnet tighter and held up her skirts as high as she could. She crouched, the soggy leaves trailing on her well powdered neck. She musn’t be seen by the matron. Or anybody for that matter. She was running away. Her plan was to hide in the bramble bushes, then find a job as a maid. It was a typical five year old’s plan. Alice was the daughter of the duke, but she didn’t want to be. She wanted to run free and wild like every five year old should, not stuck in important meetings with silly old ambassadors. Alice scurried through the undergrowth, her face alight with her future. Her dress by now was torn and her face covered in scratches. Blood trickled down her nose and Alice frowned. Most five year olds are impatient and Alice was no exception to the rule. She wanted to get to the main road quickly, but the bramble bushes seemed to go on forever! Suddenly she tripped over a tree root and tumbled head over heels through the bramble bush. She stopped abruptly at Matron’s feet. Alice looked up and their eyes met, just for a second, but long enough to send a message. Matron put a finger to her lips and dusted Alice off. Then, hand in hand, they walked back to the grand old building of Alice’s father’s.
My little start off
Well, here I am, sitting in front of the computer, posting a blog. I am doing this because I would like to show you my poems, stories, etc- plus it'll be fun!
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