Student poems
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Campfire
By Emma (Year 5, Murrumbeena Primary School)Fire crackled
Embers flew
Logs burned
And ground was glowing red hue -
The Ring
By #7472 (Year 9, Rangiora High School)I smiled at the ring that I had found in the sand, I knew I
would have magic powers once the gold touched my hand.
I bent down slowly, to get a closer stare, and reached out a hand,
which shook with anticipation and fear. -
What My Soccer Ball Can Do
By Kerstah (Year 5, Manurewa East School)Soccer is my life.
My mum knew this when she bought me a brand new soccer ball.
I unwrapped it for Christmas and felt very happy.
I play when I feel sad and suddenly everything seems okay. -
An Ode to My Graduation Dress
By Lani (Year 11, Seaton High School)This is an ode to my graduation dress
Pretty and pristine
Locked inside my closet
Since two thousand and sixteen -
Friendship Holder
By Lily (Year 8, Reddam House)A friendship-holder a story-teller and forgiveness-giver,
grasping heart in hand
a lantern of memory, glistening Auntie’s visage
It is what makes me, -
When Spring Comes
By Daniel (Year 9, Takapuna Grammar School)Newborn lambs amble slowly over the fresh, lush grass
New wool - Fluffy, Bouncy, Fleecy - create a blot of unusual colour on the familiar green landscape
Tall dandelions wave lazily in the soft breeze, dancing to the beat of the chirping birds, delighted in this new life
Nestled high up in the towering trees, protective mothers watch alertly over the… -
Mother of Pearl
By Sophie (Year 7, Russley School)My thumb rubs against its lumpy shell
In the sun it shimmers like gold
It’s solid like a rock
If I lose it I'll crawl in a ball -
Ode to a Timepiece
By Alisa (Year 10, St Cuthbert's College)My senses, dimmed as you moved in the dark
Ticking off charts and numbers, going on forever
My heart slows down to your humming tune of the harp,
One minute past, I have failed, yet you’re still clever -
Old Shoes
By Alex (Year 5, Annandale North Public School)Frayed, worn, battered. Surrendered to the null, grit and void buried inside.
Though they still hold.
Soles scraping on the cold concrete.
Though they do not tear. -
Cambodian Pattern
By Holly (Year 2, Green Valley Public School)It is shiny as a lion's golden mane.
It’s pearly like an oyster shell.
It has Cambodian patterns like a carpet.
It is round like a perfect circle. -
Prayer Cap
By Riyan (Year 10, Christmas Island District High School)The cap sits on my head, like the moon smiling.
It is a piece of puzzle.
The cap has been here since I was an infant.
It is always there when I pray. -
Grey
By Isabella (Year 7, Seymour College, Adelaide)Grey is the smoke bridge between fire and sky,
Grey is the merging between truth and lies.
Grey is the voice between whisper and shout,
Grey is the sky that warns of the drought. -
1x4 brick
By Ron Barton (Teacher, Comet Bay College)They don’t know it yet,
they think they’re only building
spaceships and castles.
They don’t realise this is the way -
My Special Shell
By Oliver (Year 4, Russley School)It is as rough as a pinecone, as light as a feather.
As white as a cauliflower, and as bright as the sun.
I put it by my ear, and hear the crashing waves at the dock.
It smells like the salty sea and breezy trees. -
Binoculars
By Rose (Year 10, St Scholastica's College)My eyes belong to the ocean
To the infinite plateau of blue
Where whales bathe barnacled bellies in the sun
And break tails on soft waves of sea. -
Karate Trophy
By Bryn (Year 6, Russley School)Walking up to the front of the room
I heard cheering from the crowd
I see my family,
photos and staring people and a gold trophy -
Hottie, my Toy
By Willow (Year 3, Russley School)My toy is important
because it helps me not have nightmares
in the scary night time.
It is cute and fluffy with twinkly eyes and a beaked nose -
Shimmer
By Zola (Year 4, Woodlands Park Primary School)Shimmering down on me from my shelf
I look at it and say, “Wow!”
Passed by my ancestors
Amethyst -
On Considering The Stapler
By Tom (Year 9, Christ Church Grammar School)Fangs pointed; teeth bared,
Prey oblivious; ready to be snared,
A single push, a crunch, a wait,
Resistance comes much too late. -
Greenstone
By Cheya-Leanne (Year 4, Manurewa East School)As green as the grass, or a lily pad.
Part of nature, sways with the trees.
My eyes are reflected in them, the same green.
My dad gave it to me, happy is my heart.
