Archive for the ‘creative writing’ Category

Weihnachten ist Rudolph und seine rote Nase
Weihnachten ist das Abendessen mit Weissen Zuckerguss auf
Weihnachten ist das Küssen unter dem Mistelzweig
Weihnachten ist Geschenke sitzt unter dem schnee bedeckten Baum
Weihnachten ist zimt duftenden Färbung der Luft
Weihnachten ist das Fett Mann Klettern durch der Schornstein
Weihnachten ist wachen Kinder wie die Lerche singt
Weihnachten ist eine Stechpalme bedeckt Kranz an der Hastür
Weihnachten ist die Strümpfe Über dem kamin hängen
Weihnachten ist die Karottennase im Gesicht des Schneemanns

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Christmas is Rudolph and his red nose
Christmas is dinner with white icing on top
Christmas is kisses under the mistletoe
Christmas is gifts sitting under the snow covered tree
Christmas is cinnamon scented candles colouring the air
Christmas is the fat man climbing down the chimney
Christmas is children waking as the lark sings
Christmas is a holly covered wreath on the front door
Christmas is the stockings hanging about the fireplace
Christmas is the carrot nose on the snowman’s face

In My Ghostbox by Louis, yr 8

Posted: December 2, 2013 by dukefrederick in creative writing, poetry
Tags: ,

In my ghostbox I shall put the chill of an empty room,
The bleak wind blowing on the back of my neck,
And a rhino beetle creeping up my spine.

In my ghostbox I shall put silken spiderwebs clinging to my face,
The echo of my heartbeat thumping in my chest,
And the taste of bland dust in my mouth. (more…)

In My Ghost Box

Posted: November 22, 2013 by dukefrederick in creative writing, poetry
Tags: ,

In my ghostbox shall put the chill of an empty room,
The hissing of a human snake
And a spider lost in my heart.

In my ghostbox I shall put a book of spells, in a locked cupboard
The story of a spinning globe
And the choking dust from a bomb blast. (more…)

The prompt from Julia this week is Remembrance.
Although her picture shows poppies and is obviously linked to Armistice Day, you can take the prompt in what ever direction you like.
Good Luck, and remember to post your stories here!

Bonjour L’Automne

Posted: October 1, 2013 by celiaayli in creative writing, poetry, Pupil
Tags: , ,

Bonjour l’automne
Au revoir l’été

Bonjour les jours frais
Au revoir le soleil

Bonjour le collège
Au revoir les vacances (more…)

Hello and welcome to our new followers. It would be lovely to hear from you in the comments box.

WordPress puts up weekly writing challenges. Here is the latest.

Again, it might be fun to respond with a picture poem, or painting as well as, or instead of, writing. Put up your own post here if you are an author and link it back to the daily post, or use the comment box.

Remember what an acrostic is?
Remind yourself with this page.

Following the guidelines, write an acrostic poem using the word October.

Or maybe you can write a seven sentence story set in October where each entence begins with the letters that make up October. (more…)

Autumn Colours

Posted: September 27, 2013 by dukefrederick in creative writing, poetry
Tags:

Autumn comes in many colours:
Grey as the road to beyond
And the early morning mist.

Red as the leaves on the trees
And the petals on the dying roses.

Yellow as the slices of lemon in a jug of water
And the pencils in children’s schoolbags.

Green as the crunch of an apple in mouth
And the woollen scarf keeping me warm.

Blue as the sky’s limits
And its reflection in the frosty lake.

Brown as the trunk of the spreading tree
And the flocks of sparrows in the air.

Black as my leather jacket
And the night sky/

By SW yr7

The Mystery Man

Posted: September 19, 2013 by dukefrederick in BGB, creative writing, general
Tags: ,

“Oh! Don’t cut my throat, Sir” I pleaded in terror. My heart bleated like a builder hammering a nail in to a stubborn wall.

“You got 30 seconds, to explain what you are doing in my house” the old man demanded.
I had seen this old man before, many times intact. Though he lived in this white marble looking mansion, he begs outside my local café and I had donated a lot of money to him, a deed I will live to regret.

“Please Sir, I’m the girl who gives you money and usually buys you coffee I the winter. I didn’t come to cause trouble, please Sir, hear me out.” I exclaimed.
I had followed the old beggar home after giving him some money today. For weeks I could tell there was something odd about the old man but I decided that today was the day to find out what was so dodgy about him. After sparing him some “change”, which in retrospect was £1 I foraged from my money box, I hid behind the dump round the side of the café and waited for him to leave. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to wait near that rotten boot smelling place for very long because two minutes later, the beggar got up and waddled off and I -feeling like a secret agent- followed him two roads down to where I saw him open the door to an almost hidden house, then, as you can tell, he caught me peeping in through a side window.

“Oh” he replied “what do you want?” He rested the light reflecting knife on the table and a sigh of relief washed over me.

By BGB yr 11

Couldn’t think of a way to end, any suggestion?