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BLINDNESS
I smell the flowers in this place
I feel the shadows creeping up my face
The birds chirp and sing so merrily
As I think of the things I cannot see.
Gordon McBain, P6A.
THE CHEERFUL SCARECROW
I'm the Scarecrow that every bird likes
They nest in my breast when they come down from flight.
The broom handle struts hold the straw where they stay
And they sleep in my hat until down the next day.
I'm cheerful, I'm happy, I'm the one for all
My head is made from an old rubber ball.
My hands are twigs, my mono leg bare
My clothes are rags but I do not care.
S. A. MacGillivray, P6A.
THE HOUSE MATCH
It was a mild, sunny day. The prospect of an exciting match filled the clear air. The bright colours of Abercromby and Lynedoch dorms come onto the muddy field. The referee's shrill sharp whistle went and the game was under way. Fierce, angry tackling and unsuccessful runs brought the spectators' screaming support
to the favoured side. The first scrum was in operation and grunts and groans filled the air while each side battled fiercely for possession of the ball.
The mud-soaked players fought on regardless of the tries scored against them. A crunching tackle made on an unsuspecting player ended up in a line out in which both sides leapt up in vain to stop the spinning oval ball. A run was made and the skilful player was tackled, but close support was at hand and the well deserved try was scored to bring the score to 6-4. Abercromby walked off relieved, victorious, and joyful, while the downhearted Lyndonians walked off bitter and dejected, licking their wounds with woe and sorrow as they pledged to try harder for next time.
I S. Scott, P6A.
A PROTEST BY A ROWAN TREE NEAR
A SWIMMING POOL
Why are they killing the harmless tree
That makes your heart feel strong and free?
Why do people have their say?
Will we ever get our way?
We are wrenched right out of the ground
Then by crane are swung around
To be harshly thrown onto a lorry
When will people ever feel sorry?
I wilt not know what they'll think next.
But pray for me it is the best
So, come on now, all you tree lovers,
And form a protest with all others.
Kevin Sayers, P7B. |
SILENT
It pulls, it strains,
It burrows, it gains.
It drags leaves into the earth;
It crawls, it eats,
It tires, it sleeps,
It pulls seeds down to have birth.
It squiggles, it squirms,
It moves, it turns,
It digs down into the ground;
It slips, it swerves.
It pushes, it curves,
But it doesn't make a sound.
Colin Smith, P7B.
THE SALMON
The salmon is a beautiful fish,
It can be big or small,
But it has tremendous strength.
To jump a waterfall.
If you catch a salmon,
With your rod and reel,
Be sure to take it home with you,
As it makes a tasty meal.
A. Veitch, P7B.
GAMBLING
John Betman was already an alcoholic through
worrying about his betting, and he inhaled at least six cigars a day. Nervously he opened his door. He paused in the door way to finish the last of his lager. He slammed his glass down on a coffee table nearby and walked out. In his pocket he had the ace of spades. This way would bring in the money for him, as he was going to his friend's house to gamble in the biggest game he'd ever gambled in before. Just around the corner was the house he was heading for. He rang the bell. The door opened. A "fat man was there to greet him, "Hello, John. Look at my new pack of cards!" John looked down. They were not the same brand as his ace of spades. John turned round and did the first thing that came into mind. He ran into the garage and got into his friend's car. Recklessly he drove the car out of the garage on to the High Street. He turned the car round and started to drive, first at twenty miles per hour, then at forty miles per hour, and finally at the speed of sixty miles per hour. Meanwhile he was driving through red lights, bumping cars and even had knocked down a sign post. The noise was ear-piercing as the car swung round a corner to head out of town. About five miles out of town he started to pick up speed yet again, but this time he was driving towards a cliff. Back at home his worried wife and heartbroken child were sitting beside the telephone waiting for a call from John, as he usually did after each game to say if he'd won or not. Little did they know that they would not receive a call. So think about John, because life does matter.
N. A. Murdoch, P7B.
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