Poetry Corner
Subject: | Poetry Corner |
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From: | Clive Mayhew | |
Date: | Dec 07 2000 11:03:21 |
Following the recent outburst of poetic fervour, I thought someone might like to read a couple of real live poems written by kids who won our Hastings National Tree Week poetry competition recently: Trees are wonderful I love trees (Age 5) Tree, trees I love trees They take care of the bees They're very stong They hold nuts They give wood to build your huts (Age 7) My special tree that is often bare It gets very cold without clothes to wear It shivers and shakes throught the winter freeze I'll knit it a jumper with a thousand sleeves! It gives me shelter when the rain tumbles down It also shades me when the sun makes me frown It's tall and strong and always there My special tree that is often bare (Age 9) High up in a tree That's the life for me I feel a sense of security My dad was going to cut it down Because all te leaves had turned brown (Age 11) My brother died before he ever drew breath So we decided to mark his death We planted a tree that all could see A small tree that will grow and grow And remind me of whom I will never know (Age 12)
Following the recent outburst of poetic fervour, I
thought someone might like to read a couple of real live poems written by kids
who won our Hastings National Tree Week poetry competition
recently:
Trees are wonderful
I love trees
(Age 5)
Tree, trees I love trees
They take care of the
bees
They're very stong
They hold nuts
They give wood to build your
huts
(Age 7)
My special tree that is often
bare
It gets very cold without clothes to
wear
It shivers and shakes throught the
winter freeze
I'll knit it a jumper with a thousand
sleeves!
It gives me shelter when the rain
tumbles down
It also shades me when the sun makes
me frown
It's tall and strong and always
there
My special tree that is often
bare
(Age 9)
High up in a tree
That's the life for me
I feel a sense of
security
My dad was going to cut it
down
Because all te leaves had turned
brown
(Age 11)
My brother died before he ever drew
breath
So we decided to mark his
death
We planted a tree that all could
see
A small tree that will grow and
grow
And remind me of whom I will never
know
(Age 12)
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- Poetry Corner
Dec 07 2000 11:03:21