Year 8 writers
Marianne H 1995
Old Age
Old Age.
A time to remember,
To remember all those happy moments,
To recall,
The ups and downs,
The mistakes and joys of life.
Then back to reality,
Sitting,
Huddled in an armchair,
Shawl wrapped around shoulders,
Glassess perched on wrinkled nose,
Weather-worn hands,
gripping the needles,
Eyes concentrating on the tangled wool,
Like the tangled memories of life.
Murmuring,
to no-one in particular,
In a croaky,
Fragile voice.
Then she slowly rises,
Reaches for walking stick
Shuffles across the floor,
And through the open doorway.
She is lonely,
And needs a friend,
But has no family,
To love,
And pass on the morals she has learnt.
As the years go by,
She shrinks,
A frailo forgetful woman,
A doifferent person from the outside,
But the same young girl,
On the inside,
As she was all those years ago.
Matthew H 1995
Young Mind (what fun)
(Written in response to reading Jenny Joseph's poem 'When I am old I shall wear purple')
When I am old I will organise
O.A.P. bungee jumping trips.
Or take them go-karting.
I will set off stink bombs in telephone boxes
and run away.
I'll write letters with 'Atroshos Spellin'
What fun!
I shall stand on the pavement outside the school
Tripping small children over
With my walking stick.
I'll play football in the middle of the road
So cars are forced to stop and wait.
I shall sit on the wall outside the vets
And squirt water at the dogs in the kennels.
What fun!
What fun!
Year 8 writing on blog a-heart-warming-story-for-christmas.html
This page updated by Simon Wrigley 17.1.2017
Old Age
Old Age.
A time to remember,
To remember all those happy moments,
To recall,
The ups and downs,
The mistakes and joys of life.
Then back to reality,
Sitting,
Huddled in an armchair,
Shawl wrapped around shoulders,
Glassess perched on wrinkled nose,
Weather-worn hands,
gripping the needles,
Eyes concentrating on the tangled wool,
Like the tangled memories of life.
Murmuring,
to no-one in particular,
In a croaky,
Fragile voice.
Then she slowly rises,
Reaches for walking stick
Shuffles across the floor,
And through the open doorway.
She is lonely,
And needs a friend,
But has no family,
To love,
And pass on the morals she has learnt.
As the years go by,
She shrinks,
A frailo forgetful woman,
A doifferent person from the outside,
But the same young girl,
On the inside,
As she was all those years ago.
Matthew H 1995
Young Mind (what fun)
(Written in response to reading Jenny Joseph's poem 'When I am old I shall wear purple')
When I am old I will organise
O.A.P. bungee jumping trips.
Or take them go-karting.
I will set off stink bombs in telephone boxes
and run away.
I'll write letters with 'Atroshos Spellin'
What fun!
I shall stand on the pavement outside the school
Tripping small children over
With my walking stick.
I'll play football in the middle of the road
So cars are forced to stop and wait.
I shall sit on the wall outside the vets
And squirt water at the dogs in the kennels.
What fun!
What fun!
Year 8 writing on blog a-heart-warming-story-for-christmas.html
This page updated by Simon Wrigley 17.1.2017