This page of our web site is an opportunity for you celebrate with us the excellent examples of pupils' writing that we will showcase here. Through placing examples of their writing here, we can provide pupils with the opportunity to 'publish' their work for a wider audience. We hope that you will enjoy reading their work.
First I begin my day,
In my special way,
Picking up my Tommy box,
Closing the doors, checking the locks.
When I'm walking up the green,
All the views already seen,
Today I would go down the black hole,
To get my pay, to dig some coal.
I soon hopped in the cage,
Hoping to earn a decent wage,
Dark as night underground,
Lots of rats, not much sound.
When we go up in the lift,
This is the end of our long ghastly shift.
Walking down those special hills,
All of us have the chills,
Can't wait to eat at the table,
That would be like a fable.
When I finally reach home,
I hear my children's special groan,
Relaxed, I crouch in the bath,
Waiting for tomorrows unknown path.
By Katie Dunn
A Welsh Mining Village
When I was a boy, I would climb the gaping foot of our deep, green valley and gaze upon the beautiful landscape. I would watch the graceful blackbirds, soaring amongst fluffy clouds.
The crystal clear, bright, fresh sky would shine down on the snaking river climbing the depths of the looming valley and crash down jagged edges. The sweet air would overcome my senses. The trees like matchsticks waving in the light spring breeze. The mishmash of fields, some bronze, some amber, some lime.
But as I grew older our beautiful valley became twisted and warped. The menacing darkness drew in.
Tremendous machines ripped the valley apart. Like rising fingers, sprouting almost like a metallic plant growing, surging, DESTROYING our livelihood. The wonderful range of colours gone! Now, only slurrying slagheaps, smothering the suffering hills. Our lively, luscious fields withered and death came upon them.
When the stealthy knight sneaked in, NO resolution came. Only more cruel darkness, only more death and biting winds. Through the menacing night came the groaning and moaning of the dying mine, NEVER sleeping, always in constant pain. But not without a price, she TAKES her lives, yet we continue to deepen the wound!.......
By Matthew Emberlin