11 July 2017

Reflection: Favourite Writing

Earlier in the term, tamariki were asked to choose some of their favourite writing they'd like to share on the blog! Here's a sampling of two pieces:

La Rouyaume
By Ana

Trudging down the grassy hill, wind whistling softly in his ears, the bearded ‘King’--for he had only a painted metal crown--was making his way to the lush woodlands filled with chittering animals and bugs. Dandelion seeds twirled around his head in light breeze, a checkered bag was balanced on his right shoulder by a knobbly stick, it shifted slightly. His boots shone coal black, and his brilliant red cape billowed regally behind him. Though there was one thing was not kingly about him; there was an arrow, pierced all the way though the fake, painted, crown.

Hastily the burly man scanned the bushes and trees ahead, spotting two delightful rabbits, they scampered away quickly, frightened of his sudden appearance. Tip-toeing now, the counterfeit King peered through the shrubbery; spotting some accomplished beavers on top of their growing masterpiece: a dam. Though what were they laughing at? Scanning around the lake scene, he spotted a small beaver trying, unsuccessfully, to snap a narrow twig.
This beaver I can use! Thinks the now scheming king. Innocently the king padded over to the beaver that the others had been making fun of. Sniffling the beaver gazed at the majestic looking man before him, and in the man’s hand was a gleaming, heavy, axe. Perking up, the beaver reached out and took hold of the axe. Then the King kneeled down and knotted a red cape just like his on the loyal beaver.
“This is my plan!”, the grinning king declared, pointing at his drawing in the dirt with a stubby forefinger.
“Ahhh!”, sighed the beaver happily, for there before him was resplendent castle.

Staggering forward with the weight of the razor sharp axe, the beaver went over to a tree, and began to chop it down. Speedily the fuzzy beaver set to work, building a platform, then a throne, then the frame for the roof. All the while, the anxious king lounged in his throne, looking extremely bored.
“Not tall enough! Not big enough!” wWhined the king. Though the beaver was tired, the king was the one to slumber.

“Huh?” mMumbled the still half-asleep king, drool dripping from his open mouth. Then he gasped! He was above the clouds. He gazed at the shining, and twinkling stars, it was like they were all laughing together. Logs creaked, and moaned as the awed man moved forward, then CRACK! The tower tilted to the right, the king snapping back, rushed down stairs, hoping to be able to salvage his palace. Speeding down the millions of wooden steps he reached the bottom and saw the beaver just staring at the trees he had cut down. ‘What have I done?’ Thought the dismayed and ashamed beaver. Since the beaver had cut the woods in only one place, it had made a funnel for the wind, blowing so strongly that it was knocking down the enormous castle he had built. But he didn’t care anymore. The furious king was hollering at him, but he didn’t care about that either.
‘Let it fall!’ The angry beaver thought. Gales blew and lifted the imprudent king into the air, the beaver watched, while hanging on to the roots of a tree trunk. Red and billowing the cape on the beavers shoulders, whirled away….right into the mad, enormous hands of the king. The man shredded the red cloth into pieces.
“That is the last straw!” The beaver yelled, though it was lost in the howling and tugging wind. With that, the shaggy, shaken beaver twirled round and round then flung the heavy axe at the bewildered King.

Daylight dappled on the lake, all was peaceful. Then….THUNK! The King dropped into a mole's family home. They stared at him, he held up a shining spoon, “Aye?” he says, smiling.

The short-furred moles dug faithfully, day and night. Doing just as the King asked, making the biggest castle ever underground. Though the littlest mole, Jimmy, was reaching higher than the rest, scooping and scooping, not even looking at where he was going….straight into the lake above.


By Hannah C.

“What's that. It moved. Blue, no black, thin, long. Shark!, Do we have sharks here. Woops, stay focused. Don't lose your balance. Saw dolphins once over by the bridge, lots of them. Must have sharks here or sting rays. What if I fall in? What if one gets me like that Australian guy?

Concentrate. You can do this. You’ve done it before - this SUP boarding thing. You weren't scared then.  I mean it’s easy right? You just have to have good balance.

What did that guy tell me to do? Left foot, no.. right foot forward. Uh ..never mind. What was the other thing? Oh that’s right, bend both knees. Keep your balance, woah. Arms out arms out. balance. ok
Don’t  wobble straighten up. DON’T wobble.

Can Mum see me? Im standing up, look at me. Yay. Is she looking at me?

Those boat sheds are tiny. What are they like inside? Do they have loos? Do the loos empty out here into the sea? Eugh.
It's not the sea though is it? Isn’t a harbour? Wait, is that worse?

Whats happening? Don’t lean to the side. Straighten up. Straighten up.

Cold. Ow. My eyes sting from the salt. Heavy clothes. My eyes still hurt, rubbing makes it worse. Ok I’ve got the board.  Both hands. It's ok. Shark’s can only get my legs now.

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