Last Friday saw the annual Senior School Library celebration of Christmas poetry and prose. Several staff and students gathered to read, and listen to, a selection of poems and prose inspired by the festive season. This year’s celebration was extra special as we had a number of poems written specially for the occasion, as well as some traditional favourites.
Vince read ‘The Oxen’ by Thomas Hardy; Ruth read ‘The Computer’s First Christmas Card’ by Edwin Morgan – a real tongue-twister! Dave Ilott read ‘Nothingmas Day’ by Adrian Mitchell. I Group (Year 7) students Laila and Chloe both read their own poems (see below).
We were treated to a by-now traditional reading of Benjamin Zephaniah’s ‘Talking Turkeys’ from Connor – a poetic plea for kindness towards our feathered friends! Year 7 (I Group) students Alfie and Dylan had both written lovely poems but unfortunately we ran out of time for Dylan to read his, but, again, both are featured at the end of this mailing for you to enjoy.
Prose also featured in our lunchtime celebration: Mike read from the wonderful ‘A Child’s Christmas in Wales’ by Dylan Thomas, Penny (ably assisted by Rich) once again gave us the increasingly acerbic, hysterical and very funny alternative version of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ by John Julius Norwich – if you haven’t come across this one, I thoroughly recommend it as an antidote to the sometimes cloyingly sentimental stuff floating around at this time of year.
We’re already looking forward to doing it all again next year!
I am a Christmas tree
no, don’t laugh,
see, I always wanted to dress in tinsel
ever since I was a seed
it just so happens I come alive when I’m all lit up
my piney fingers, splayed for show
dripping with diamonds and glitter spray
I pose in the corner, leaning on candy canes, adorably flash
and I’m crowned with a silver star
if it’s a sin to surround myself with gifts
and keep none for myself
well, that’s just how I was made
pack me away in a box and lose me in the attic
but my needles stay in your carpet
forever
Simon Cockle (English teacher)
—
Soar my child have no fear,
depart to steady ground,
be cradled by air as one is by mother.
Follow the sun kissing the horizon,
trainers cling to their masters
hugging ankles tight.
The sky is your playground,
the world your oyster.
Wind brushes your face
with the kindness of no foe,
for up you float up,
and one has become old,
old from not age but joy
from time spent not observed.
Alfie (I Group)
—
Cold will come,
like mould creeping up on a piece
of stale bread.
Yes it will be sharp and icy ………????
where one is not to tread
and man’s conviction
will swim like a needle and thread
like a new-born baby
with no heart to share or spread.
So cold will come
like mould creeping up on a piece
of stale bread.
Dylan (I Group)
—
Woken by the sunlight,
Dazed by the dawn,
Inside it’s normal,
Quiet and warm.
The doors and the windows
Keep out the chill,
Of myriad snowflakes
On the window sill.
But outside it’s submerged,
The town is hidden.
Beneath a blanket of ice,
The world is hidden.
In the swirling storm there’s snowflakes
Glistening in the light,
Follow their irregular dance,
It’s a whirlpool of delight.
Slide across the frozen road,
Experience a cold so cold
That it’s almost warm,
And you don’t want it to end.
Touch it with your bare hands,
Feel it sting, and crunch like powder,
Stroke the smooth and clear chill,
Feel snow.
Chloe (I Group)
—
Rudolph the snot-nosed reindeer had a very bad cold,
It had got worse one hundred and one multifold.
Suddenly, one morning Santa came and told him
“With your snotty nose you better stay in.”
Leaving a disgusting trail of snotty slime
Rudolf sulked back to his pine.
Whilst he was dreaming about green bells
He work up with a start from Santa’s yells,
Sleepily leaving his green bell choir
He discovered Santa’s house on fire!
He quickly scampered up to the house
All grey and black like a mouse.
All was daunting, frightening and terror
All they needed was a valiant torch bearer.
Finally his nose was no longer a misfit
As it was shining emerald green as the emergency exit.
Everyone escaped and ran into the biting cold
And this was how green became the value of gold.
Laila (I Group)
