The Sun is a snake curled up and is glowing yellow gold.
The Wind is a whirl pool sucking the clouds in.
The Rain is small rippling pepbles with a plop at the end.
The Snow is small bits of silk sliding and slivering in the wind.
The Sky is swaying amongst the misty trees.
The Clouds are cuddly cushions pushing through the sky.
The Sea is silk swaying or smashing to the shour.
The Thunder is thumping and thudding and booming out loud.
The Lightning is listning to the thunder and the Lightning is striking away.
By Casey 
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In Gran’s big bloomers you could hide…
An air balloon
For her to ride;
(A baby hippo small but wide);
A roundabout,
A swing,a slide,
A string of flags
All brightly dyed;
A stack of pancakes
Crisply fried;
A pair of liamas
(Both cross-eyed);
A princess,
Shocked yet dignified;
A whale or wombat-
(you decide);
A bridegroom and
His blushing bride;
A queue or tourists,
Plus their guide;
A plague of rats
With Piper(Pied);
A giant parcel Neatly tied…
And STILL have room
fOR gRAN INSIDE.
by Kirstie
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Dear Bess,
My mind is a puzzle that i cant fix, i didn’t mean to tell them i was jellous
now i feel stupid lonley, i’ve loved you ever since you were born
your sincerly,
Tim
xxxxx
By Kirstie
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Where Tim the Ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
“One Kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him -
with her death.
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his
throat.
Our Highwaywoman
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