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The Mountain of Enchantment
by Blaize Angel Smith
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On the mountain of enchantment,
Clouds dance like they'll never stop.
Gods and Goddesses glide across the sky to gaze on previous land.
Spirits of the north star swim in and out of the clouds.
The Northern Lights flicker colours across the swirling dance floor.
On the mountain of enchantment memories are made.

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Snake Encounter
by Rory Nicholson
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Slimy, scaly, curious, the snake slithered across my back,
My eye caught sight of the desert coloured skin,
I remember the thrill, the buzz,
As the reptile slid smoothly across my upper body,
Coiling around my neck.

The muscular beast was constantly on the move,
I remember his pitch black eyes,
Looking directly into mine,
Analysing me.

The reptilian creature moved to the back of my head
He licked the back of my ear,
I remember the wet tongue sliding across my smooth skin,
Leaving a trail of saliva behind it,
He recoiled from my neck,
Leaving me in awe behind him.

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THE RED KITE
by by Nathan Ferguson
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HE SWOOPED DOWN, MAJESTIC, FANTASTIC,

HE DIVED AND SOARED, STRONG AND FREE,

HE NAVIGATED THROUGH THE AIR, WITH PINPOINT ACCURACY,

HE STAYED STRONG AND MIGHTY, GLARING DOWN FROM ABOVE,

HE SEARCHED WITH KEEN EYES AND FEARSOME BEAK,

HE SHOWED HIS DARK RED FEATHERS, WEARING THEM PROUDLY,

HE REVEALED HIS RAZOR SHARP TALONS, SHOWING US HE WAS GRACEFUL,

HIS WINGS WERE STRECHED, HE WAS WILD AND FREE,

THE WIND RUFFLED HIS FEATHERS, HE WAS DIFFERENT,

THE MIGHTY WARRIOR SOARED OVER HEAD,

HIS MENACING GOLDEN EYES GAZED DOWN FROM OVER HEAD, LIKE SOME GAURDIAN ANGEL,

HE WAS THE MIGHTIEST, MOST ANGELIC CREATURE EVER,

NO ONE COULD TOUCH HIM NO BULLET, NO ARROW COULD HAVE STOPPED HIM,

HIS MAJESTY WILL STAY WITH ME FOREVER.

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The Wolf's Eyes
by Owen Matthews 
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The golden beads had an hypnotic sense about them.

The great wolf was staring at me.

I stared back, his eyes said all,

I miss my home.

The golden beads are wide

and for a minute, I am there, I speak to the wolf.

No words are required, just the eyes, they said all,

I miss my family.

The golden beads belong in the wild

not in a cage.

The wolf misses his home, fir trees not lumps of plastic.

500 miles not 5 metres.

I see his soul through his eyes.

No words were needed, the eyes said all,

I miss the wild.

The gold beads close slowly.

The wolf sighs as if accepting his fate.

He lies on the heap of straw that is his bed.

No words are said, just the eyes say all,

I miss life.

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My Gran
by Rachel van den Broek 
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I remember the things that my Gran used to cook

Brownies, pastries and more

The way she used to smile at me

And how I felt so glad she was there

But now she’s not

I remember her face most of all

Her lovely un-ending smile

She was always merry and fun

How I loved it when she was there

But now she’s not

And her meals, I loved them

Fish pie, rice and beans

I remember me, my family and her

Going to the beach and splashing in the waves

When she was there it was fun

But now there’s just a few sparks left of enjoyment

It was like she had an endless supply of happiness

But she didn’t

I remember that horrible day

When it happened

I cried buckets and buckets

When it happened

When my Gran died

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King of the Fish
by Skye Longworth
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I can still visualise the magic of Egypt; I can recall every emotion I experienced.

Especially the day I swam into the Red Sea's everlasting depths -
it was like swimming through a soul.

I can still see the fish darting between the colourful coral.

I can still picture the aquamarine depths bursting with vibrant sea creatures.

The fluorescent, stripy, spotty and slimy, all united around me.

I can still fell them brushing my skin softly, almost giggling as they swarmed like an army of bees towards me.

Then the king of the fish had leapt over the waves, through the school of fish.

I can remember his smooth complexion and streamlined shape.

His flowing movements and shy nature.

I can remember how I felt honoured and awed, scared but delighted.

I can never forget the dolphin of Egypt,king of the fish.

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France
by Georgia Greenwood
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I could never forget the beauty of France.

The vast fields illuminated at night by the moon above.

Stopping to drink in its beauty,

Its tranquility.

In the little village of Aspet,

Feeling peaceful.

I remember looking up at the sky,

The feeling of calm consuming me,

Letting out a sigh of relief.

Feeling at home.

My company the stars,

My protection the trees,

My secret-keeper the wind.

I remember the night and the cool, crisp breeze.

My senses were overwhelmed.

It was that moment, that one brief moment,

that I gave France my heart.

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A Zoo
by Harry Lauchlan
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I remember the tiger’s orb-like eyes scanning my heart, studying my soul,

I remember the panda munching on a large stick of bamboo, seemingly in slow motion,

I remember the kingfisher, hovering over the stream, like an orange and blue helicopter,

I remember a hummingbird, a blur of miniscule feathers and wings, almost unreal in its vivid colouration,

I remember the zebra, its muscular legs and its newspaper-print hide,

I remember the elephant, its leathery skin, its hulking figure and how it dwarfed everything in its path,

I remember the lion, how its golden furred visage, how it seemed battle-scarred, how it walked with such a swagger-like gait that it seemed to rule the park

I remember that zoo, the creatures and how they completely captured my imagination

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The Lion
by Hannah
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I remember going to the zoo,

And looking into the gleaming eyes of a lion.

The short connection,

As his heart settled into mine.

I remember his glittering, golden coat,

Shining like the sun in my eyes.

His lonely roar,

Which still echoes faintly in my ears.

I remember his fluffy, ginger mane,

Swishing in the light breeze.

And the memory of his meaty breath,

As he comes right up to me,

Breathes on me heavily,

Then looks at me right in the heart of my eye.

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You are the cry of a baby
by Thomas York
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You are the cry of a baby

The scream of a car and the marmite on toast

You are the ear of corn

And the face of the moon

Sometimes you’re the edge of a blade

Sometimes you’re the shadow of a shadow

You’re never, ever the tail of a fish

And you’re certainly not the pillar of a temple

I'm the spine of a book

The hook on a fishing rod

Of course I'm the gum on the street

And, yeah, I can be the rain from a cloud

But you’re my marmite on toast

And I'm your gum on the street

So please

Don’t leave me now...

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My First Rollercoaster
by Morgan Howland
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I remember my first rollercoaster

The flying fish it was called

The whistle of the wind

The blow of the air

I remember.

I remember the thrills and excitement

Waiting for our turn

The deafening noise of the screams

The feel of the tension

I remember.

I remember the height of the track

And it coming back down again

The slow steady climb to the top

The sight of the drop

I remember.

I remember climbing into the car

With the safety bar too tight

The wafting smell of distant candy floss

The movement of the carriage in front

I remember.

I remember the ride finally starting

Like a tiger ready to pounce

The sight of people moving from the side

The jerk of it lifting us in the air

I remember.

I remember my first rollercoaster

The flying fish it was called

The whistle of the wind

The blow of the air

I remember it.

I was there.

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I Remember
by Georgia Swan
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I remember,
the stars falling,
falling through the sky
such grace.

I remember,
hundreds of them,
a rainfall of stars
so majestic.

I remember,
they skimmed the night sky,
tiny lanterns
breathe-taking.

The world changed that night,
I remember...

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The Snow Monster
by Ben Ray
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One Christmas morning, when it had snowed hard

I made a snow man out in the yard

I made it look muscled, strong and tough

But somehow that just wasn’t enough

I wanted this creation to be all mine

And so I copied Frankenstein

I criss- crossed his body over with wires

I poked about his chest with pliers

I sent electrons through his head

And put up monitors in the shed

I gave him one hundred electric shocks

From the jumpstart in my dad’s toolbox

But oh, how was I to know

As electrons scurried to and fro

Oh, how was I to know

As my snowman started shaking slow

Oh, how was I to know

That I had created the ultimate foe?

Two evil red eyes opened in its head

It gurgled slowly, like something half- dead

It writhed and twisted, it hit and bent

And destroyed all of my equipment

Wires showered down like rain

Alas! The monster had a brain!

For a second it seemed to stare at me

Its eyes a mad, evil red sea

Then turned, and sprinted through the gate

Leaving monster footprints in its wake

I’ve unleashed a snow fiend, causing terror and pain

That is, until the sun rises again!

(Ben is the current Young Poet Laureate for Herefordshire)

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Galufi’s Darkness
by Saul Friend
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The dark corner was perfect for outsiders.

It was a haunting utopia for someone who bent the line.

Someone, who deformed the shape,

Galufi allows himself to be swallowed by this dark.

I see him,

Walking around town sometimes,

Alone.

Devastated, The thing that troubles me most is that I don’t know why.

He covers his past,

Using an impenetrable cloak.

His secrets are stored in his skeletal warehouse –

His mind.

Perhaps he fought in a war,

For his country,

As an honourable hero.

Perhaps he was a high profile banker,

Until he lost his dream in the wild and dangerous

Credit Crunch River.

He might have got washed away

All I know is that Galufi brings out the darkness,

In everyone.

Saul Friend.

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The Magic
by Cerian Craske
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I remember New York,

The memories it brought, the excitement.

I remember the day in Central Park, 

The fun, the playground, the boat pond.

As it darkened my mum said,

“Let’s find some fireflies.”

I remember walking silently here and there,

The excitement when we saw the glow come,

Flickering out of a bush, then fading.

We ran towards it, hoping for more.

I remember the disappointment when we saw the fence,

And the happiness when my dad lifted me and my brother over.

I remember creeping towards every glimmer,

Every glimpse of light.

I remember the realisation of the glow above my head.

The amazement, the wonder.

I felt privileged, chosen, special.

I remember the thought,

“I could catch it, I could hold the fire!”

I followed the flashes around trees and bushes.

I remember thinking it had gone, 

Regretting not catching it,

Wishing I had been quicker.

I remember the glimmer above my head,

The delight that I hadn’t been forgotten.

I remember leaping into the air, 

Grabbing and hoping I was lucky.

I remember the joy when I looked into my hands,

The feeling that I was holding a magical creature, 

Just as special as a unicorn or fairy.

It seemed so graceful, so female.

I remember the moment when she began to fade,

The realisation that she had to go.

I remember opening my hands,

Letting her go,

Letting her light fade into the darkness.

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Scotland
by Sophie Green
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I remember the snowy white
top of the mountain.
It seemed so high up,
that it made me shudder.

I remember looking down
from the mountain.
Looking out to Scotland.
I wondered how far down
the warm grass was.

I remember the cormorants
standing majestically on the rocks.
Swooping gracefully,
cutting through the air.

I rmember the lochs,
as clear as glass.
The mountains with their
snowy white tops
reflected in the lochs.
Making the view doubly spectacular.

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Kessingland Beach House
by Caitlyn Ryan
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Kessingland Beach House

When I go to Kessingland I sit and watch the sunset,

When the wind sprays the drops of water from the sea at my face,

When I smell the salty ocean,

When I stand on the balcony in front of the beach,

And when the sun sets on top of the sea and a clash of colours appear,

When the golden sand sneaks between my toes,

And when the stones crumble under my feet,

When the wind picks up and blows the sand across the beach,

When everything grows silent and all I hear is the crash of waves on the pebbles,

And when the final bird flies across the sky I know I’m home....

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A Rabbit Called Bear 
By Thom Keen
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A rabbit called Bear. Silly isn't it?

Why is it that four years is a lifetime for some

and a leap year for another?

How is that fair?

Why are we granted eighty when another is granted

twenty times less?

How could we fit a lifetime into four short years?

Why can't everything live for the same time?

Why not?

Why is life this way?

Will my life seem short, one day?

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The Tube 
By Daniel Guthrie
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As I stepped onto the Tube, I thought it was just a regular train journey from Baker Street to London Paddington, with “the regular” people.

So there had to be,

One man with a sandwich, on fancy bread,

One man with a phone, stuck to his head,

One with a gold watch, checking the time,

And the one with a laptop going clickety-clack, to the beat of the old train track.

And of course…

One little child, howling at the moon,

One little child saying, “ is it us soon?”

One quiet thinker, thinking of a rhyme

And the one with the laptop going clickety-clack, to the beat of the old train track.

Not forgetting,

One loud teenager, with unusual hair,

One loud child, shouting “Are we nearly there?”

One cool gang, messing around,

And the one with the laptop going clickety-clack, to the beat of the old train track.

There always is…

One annoying person, singing out loud

One crazy person, defying “smoking not allowed”

One quiet one, listing to the sound,

Of the one with the laptop going clickety-clack, to the beat of the old train track.

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A sleepless night in Newfoundland 
By Maya Walton
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I remember looking out of the window

The way the shadow of my face framed the soft shower of melting flakes

The way my face was pressed against the window

casting wreaths of vapour in a net over the cold glass

The way it blurred the dreamlike vision of the snowy Canadian night

The way the stars looked on like kings on a throne of black velvet

and the moon cast a soft light over the flakes greyed by night

The way my hand squeaked as it rubbed the gathering condensation off the window

The way it momentarily broke the spell

But I remember falling under its sway again

The way the dark conifers swayed slowly in the cold breeze, lulling me

And the way I was finally overwhelmed by sleep.

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I Never Knew 
By Charity Culley
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I Never Knew…
I have this dog called Cloudy
She’s a greyhound and, well…
She’s small and very funny
And in three short words
I love her.

But, I never really knew how much I loved her.
Her expressions…
There’s the raised eyebrow “What are you doing?” look and then
there’s the puppy eyes meaning “Peerrlease take me for walkies”
as well as the drooling mouth meaning “Lunch was nice,
but I’m still hungry!”

and there’s the most used one meaning “Excuse Moi, that hoover is noisy and I am trying to sleep. I need my beauty-sleep!”
But, I never knew what those expressions meant to me.

Her eyes…
Don’t ask me why but somehow those eyes do more for me then anything else.

When I’m -

Sad – she seems to understand
Angry – she seems to listen
Happy – she looks happy too
And when I’m excited she shares my excitement
But, I never knew how much that stare did for me.
We still have secrets nobody else shares
And we have thoughts nobody else thinks
And we have memories nobody else remembers
Just the two of us.

Us two.

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Fabulousa  
By Anja Blackwell
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I am Fabulousa,
I am the moon that lights the midnight sky.
I am the sun that bathes in the sky of blue.
I am the rain that falls on the dry dusty earth.
I am the fire that blazes on the green forest floor.
I am the stars that wink at you from outer space.
I am the ice that grips Antarctica's soul.
I am the sea that gnaws at the jagged rocks.
I am the wind that blows through the bones of the earth.

I can be sad as the sight of a dead soldier.
I can be happy as the laughter in a child's eyes.
I can be fair or unfair, depending how cruel I feel.
I can be wild or calm, depending on my mood.

I have danced through the soul of every being since time began.
I have seen love and hatred in the eyes of every man.
I have been defeated by age and awoken by a heartbeat.
I have been alive longer than the old wrinkled earth itself.

I can be your best friend or your arch enemy.

I am Fabulousa,
I am life. 

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The Sands That Time Forgot  
By Joe Grimaldi
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Have you ever lost time?
The waves, rolling and crashing on the sand.
Over and over again.
This is something you cannot capture.
It is the feeling you get,
when you loose time itself.
In those late evenings, an hour can be a minute
a minute an hour.
Time moves on without you,
and yet you keep going…
Waves, crashing and rolling,
When you settle down to sleep, they lure you into rest.
When you get up in the morning, they welcome you…
As I leave, I look back.
I hear the waves in my ears,

and I have an image of the sands.

The sands that time forgot......

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Spring
By Sapphire de Sousa Stayton
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The wind was a light as a swan's downy feather,
The sky was as blue as a tropical sea,
All the birds were a-singing whilst lining their nests
And the silken green grass was dancing for me.

The dragonflies waltz with the reeds on the lake side,
And the ripples from fish seem to tickle the shore,
Butterflies tiptoe round roses and daisies,
And the trees were adorned with a blossomy shawl.

The sun slipped away and the fox started prowling,
A curtain was drawn across aquamarine sky,
The stars flickered on with the moon as their leader,
The whole world slept and the owl wondered why.

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Mrs. N.
By Rebecca Harrington
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The first time I saw her, I froze.
She stood in her front garden,
Just staring at nothing.
As I crept closer, she snapped out of what seemed to be a trance.

She turned to me and looked right through me.
She reminded me of an owl,
Her eyes magnified by huge rounded glasses.
I watched her smooth out her pink cardigan
and straighten her purple skirt.

Eventually she noticed me
And invited me inside for some banana cake.
We became quite friendly with each other.
One day she told me about the shadows
And how she stares them out until they vanish.

She told me they wait for her,
Hiding in the rose bushes
And around the corner of the house
Where the sun never reaches.

I was there when she died.
The last thing she said was, "They're out there now,  waiting."

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The Monster Mushroom
by Freya Ludford 
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If you go picking mushrooms in the wood,
just like little red riding hood.
Beware beware the Monster Mushroom will give you a scare!
It might look like the best mushroom you've ever seen,
but it's just a disguise,
really, inside it's glowing green!
Its terrible teeth are as sharp as razor blades,
they are all kinds of shades
from rotten red to bilious black.
It will eat you up in one big snap!
So don't go near the Monster Mushroom...
stay away and go to your bedroom.

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Ashern
By Eleanor Chapman
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I am Ashern.....
I am the shadow hiding behind you,
I am the rain cooling the sun's beam,
I am the fire being sucked in by an evil volcano,
I am Ashern.....
I was there when the meteor shattered the skin of the Earth,
I was there when God created the fiery sun and the mysterious see through blue rain.
I am Ashern.....
Why is it that flower buds burst out with shining colours?
Why is it that when I am lurking, 'you' disappear?
Why am I the power of the Earth?
I am Ashern.....
When my beautifully coloured sky changes to hot spicy danger,
That is when I come seeking.
I am here watching you, listening to every word you speak.
Then I am gone.
I am Ashern.

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GUINEA PIG JOCKEY
By Barnaby Saunders
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I've longed to be the world¹s first Guinea Pig Jockey.

Trouble is, how can a 3 foot tall chap ride a 10cm tall guinea pig?

And let's just say Fuzzy didn't say much to me anymore after his first training run.

I've searched the world to find the kind of 2 foot, reinforced standard guinea pig I need.

I went to London Zoo and saw a capybara: mega mammal and massive guinea pig imitator extraordinaire!

But the Zoo Keeper told me, with eyes all annoyed,

That capybara are carriers of deadly typhoid.

I contemplated a stagecoach, 50 pigs to a truck!

But they didn't seem bothered, why, just my luck!

While the stagecoach was scrapped, I didn¹t give up.

I decided my plan over a can of 7Up.

I would grow my own guinea massive, the size of a car!

And I'd make a dwarf of that capybara!

So the following day, piggy got a double ration,

For my master plan to be put into action.

He grew and he grew, only not by my standard,

For guinea pig only grew outward, not upward!

His belches were very soon complained of by neighbours,

And apologising was just all too much like hard labour.

In the end he simply refused to eat more,

And soon he was just average size on the floor.

As I put him back I knew this just wasn't for me,

Instead I did wrestling ­ with a fat chimpanzee!!

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Tommy-Tucker-Sandwich-Tower
by Katya
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He's an Empire State Building,
We're all tiny four-storey flats.
He's a go-carting champion.
Somehow folding his crane sized legs
Into the mouse-hole cart.
His grandpa makes an offer
He can't refuse,
To gallop along the roads,
Cars swarming like beetles on the tarmac,
And sit in the theatre
Listening to the deafening guitars
And boom of the drums
Of the AC.DC crowd.
And then crouching in the train
To Crystal Palace
For another squeeze into the stadium
To cheer on the Eagles.
He holds my minute hands,
He's as thin and spindly as a wire coat hanger.
I don't care.
He's my half-brother
Or the Tommy-Tucker-Sandwich-Tower!

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Oliver
by Willow Davies
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Bright ginger flashed
Into the room
Just like a kingfisher
His eyes matched sapphires
Glinting in the sun
Snow white teeth
Dazzling like ice
But best of all
His paint flicked freckles
I could see
From the start
He would be
A great friend
Yet even though
I wished to know him
Through and through
I kept my distance
But nearing the end
Of break
He said
Everyone is calling me
Oliver Twits
Please be my friend
He might have guessed
My answer

YES!

From what I
Have told you now
At lunchtime we made
A new game
Just for us
We named it
'The kitty game'
People used
To snigger at us
Saying we were
Boyfriend and girlfriend
Which is ridiculous
Of course
But the time came
When I
Had to leave
On the last day
He came
And said
Look at the stars
And think
Of me
And I shall do
The same
Now every night
I stare at the stars
Sending shadow messages
Onto his bedroom wall.

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My Bewitching Butterfly
by Claire Otasowie
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My bewitching butterfly is as bright as a neon button
and as sweet as sweetened sugar.
She is as colourful as a Princess's sari
and her wings are as delicate as bedraggled wet paper.
My bewitching butterfly is as big as an exquisite eagle extending to its
full extent
and flies with the extreme elegance of a stunning swan.
She has spots as symmetrical as a circle
and the tails of her wings curve into an intricate shape.
My bewitching butterly doesn't really eat much,
but when she does she really pigs out!
Even though she eats a bit much, I love her.
And I'd really love to introduce you, but alas,
she has taken to the skies - and taken my heart with her.

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If I had arms the size of trains
by Logan Hogg
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If I had arms the size of trains
I could pick up a pizza from New York
and pick up books from the library in Africa.
I could pick up a taxi from Turkey
and pick a ring for my girlfriend across the street.
I could pick aliens from out of space
and Brian Moses from his village
to help me on my poem.

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