Lumsden Poem
The smell of cooking fills the clean air and somewhere far
off a cow bell rings.
Bubbles fill the sink as the dishes splash into it.
Tiny ornaments twinkle in the swirly, coloured windows
and the taste of dinner fills your mouth.
Warm soapy water rests on your hands.
My place is like that.
Outside, the bushes are a maze.
Twisting turning shrubs blend with the brightly coloured flowers
and some old rusty chairs perch on the grass.
A badminton net rises tall in a clearing,
with racquets carelessly scattered beneath.
An old stone wall separates the garden
from black and white cows that roam up a grassy hill.
My place is like that
Clean, fresh air surges around you like a swarm of bees
and cows moo somewhere in the distance.
The old house stands tall and proud behind you,
your bare feet sink into the lush grass.
A sense of excitement fills your body like adrenalin,
pushing you to explore.
My place is like that
The taste of bubblegum hangs around
the pink and blue bedrooms.
The steep stairs creak with the weight of plant pots
Music faintly plays in living room below.
Fluffy teddy bears dot the rooms,
like sheep in a field.
A sensation of home.
And Lumsden is like that.
By Malena Shakespeare. Rm 4
Tukituki River
The rapids rush and
the rocks overturn.
The rainbow trout whizzing
through the silver water.
My place is like that.
The aroma of decaying
wood fills the air.
Lying on your back in the river,
current pulling you along.
My place is like that.
All the stones on the bank
perfect for skimming.
Algae gathers on the edges of the river
and trips you up.
My place is like that.
No sand to irritate your skin
if you lie down.
The taste of smoked fish
emanates over your tongue.
Tukituki is like that.
By George Douglas Room 4
WOW! These poems are amazing, would love to see more =)
ReplyDelete