On Monday and Tuesday a group of 10 students from Years 5-8 participated in a writing enhancement workshop with author Gail.

Gail writes for children as well as exploring poetry. She is a tutor with the School for Young Writers in Christchurch and also works with teachers in various settings to develop their understanding of the writing process and the teaching of writing.

Gail encouraged our students to create their own pieces of poetry. They learnt how to make their poems better by editing their work after getting down their ideas. Everyone enjoyed working with Gail, learning new styles of poetry and being challenged to make their writing richer and more powerful.

Here is a sample of the writing that was produced by our students during the two days:

Cook Island swim        By Nico

I look back as I swim away the wind

in the green palms, the soft yellow sand,

the call of the tropic birds, I turn my

head out to sea.

Big bad beach         By Harry

Sharp rock but no sand

waves weak

Just a can

and milk bottles, chip packets,

glad wrap grabs my leg

You start

to sink, crabs

nip hard.

Turn around

stamp my foot

̈ ̈thunk ̈

And I say goodbye,

good riddance!

THE AFRICAN ELEPHANT’S LAST STAND       By Seraphine

I don’t know what i’ve done to deserve this

I don’t understand

they keep following me

Shouting and swinging metal poles

I think this is the end

I’ll miss the old water hole

I’ll miss the smell of the hot grass

and the calls of my family

If only I could get away

But even now I can feel the pain

And still I don’t understand

The Sloth I Found        By Alice

The sloth I found is very slow,

The sloth I found has to go.

The sloth I found is really bad,

The sloth I found annoyed my dad.

The sloth I found is very sneaky,

The sloth I found is very cheeky.

The sloth I found needs a smack,

The sloth I found should live in a shack.

I wish I could cut him some slack,

I miss my sloth I want him back.

The Mosquito’s Last Confession            By Iona

I miss the taste of fresh pure blood

I miss the sound of family buzz

I dream of being able to spend my day

drinking from human veins

when they come to stay

at the campsite tents

I can feel hot fumes

against my back,

my six legs curl up

one by one

I’m choking I can’t move.