Why We Remember

Written as a model for my class...yup that's right I am now officially a year 6 teacher. I am hoping, now I am in a new routine and settled I can start writing again. I have missed posting. Anyways, this poem is for a Remembrance Sunday English lesson. 

Why We remember

Gnawing hunger inside my gut

Metal as cold as ice against my lips

Bland taste to ease the pain

Rations don’t go far these days

Spikes like devil horns, keeping us safe?

Mud crawls and creeps into my boots

Winter bites at my face

These trenches are a cage

Lying letters take themselves to safety

Tears escape my eyes and burn my cheeks

Feeling as lonely as a prisoner

But I am surrounded by others

Thunderous explosions rumble in the trench

Bullets rain down like hail over our heads

Fighting like beasts, falling like men

This is war, this is why we remember.

By L Warnock

No introduction needed...

Mood is up

Wait to drop

Life is good

Will it stop?

Having faith

Keeping hope

Trust myself

I can cope

No more hurt

Can't be true

I am happy...

Without you. 

Teacher's Fun

I saw this picture on Facebook and it made me think about the time I've spent working with children and the way it impacts the rest of my life. To me, having fun and living life is so much more important than grades and achievement. Those things come with time and experience, none of which can be gained without happiness. It''s a shame that some children I have met don't share this view, and at such young ages are only concerned about their attainment. I wrote this quickly, but was happy with the outcome, I hope you enjoy :)

Teacher's Fun

Run, jump, scream and shout,
Spinning around the roundabout.
Clapping hands, squeaks of joy.
Playing tea parties with every toy!
Paints and glitter, spread the glue,
See what else there is to do!
Reading stories, so much fun,
The robot book is my best one.
Hands move round the ticking clock,
Then suddenly it's time to stop.
Greet the parents at the door.
Teaching fun is what I'm here for!

This is a very short poem written a while back, I found it in my diary when reading through old entries. 

Bruised

They'll ask what happened to me that day
One slip back, that's what I'll say
Smiles and hugs with gentle words
They don't believe what they just heard.

Red Art...

A different style of poem to normal, someone asked if my poems all had the same rhythm to them and I realised the majority did! So I thought I would try something new; Quite dark for my first poem in a few months, enjoy!



Shh now
Need sleep
More drink
Dreams creep
Night time
Dark thoughts
Day time
face taught
Sharp blade
Cold heart
Pain made
Red Art
Words hurt
Hurt heals
Dumb girl
Blood spills

Empty Nights

Wishing for bed, yet afraid of the night

Enjoying the peace, but leave on the light

Eyes are heavy and sleep is near 

This brings with it endless fear

Eventually tiredness takes what it can

I fall into dreams of far away lands

Without control my mind plays free

Leaving my conscious painful debris

Nightmares aren't always ghouls and ghosts

I wish it was these that I dread the most. 

Getting there....

Feels strange when I know its all okay

And carrying on gets easier each day

When the time for you isn't time at all

And the space you filled is now so small

A song, a place or just a scent

Reminds me of how much you meant

But slowly and surely I can smile

For memories that last only a while