Iona loves to write stories
and poems. I think she’ll be a writer; she seems to have the gift. Here is one
she wrote today for school. With illustration! They are doing ‘Dragons’.
The Water
Dragon
Far away in
the distance,
Asleep on a
rock there lies,
Still as a
boulder the egg of a dragon
The sky
wrapping it in a blanket of fog.
Without
warning, twitch, twitch, crack!
First a
tail,
With
sapphire scales,
Then a claw,
Then another,
then another,
A nose,
nostrils flared,
Sniffing the
air,
The shell
shatters into tiny shards,
Eyes blue as
the lake where the mother lives,
Scales sharp, as the father’s roar,
Horns,
quartz white, his fierce protectors,
Must go to
his mum, must go to his mum,
Trees murmur
“this way, this way!"
He staggers
through the autumn leaves,
Red, orange
and gold,
He can taste
the coldness of the air,
The lake’s
ahead!
He scrambles
down the bank
His feet
splash in the water
He’s happy.
He’s home
Iona Rowland,
aged 8 ¾
5 comments:
Well done Iona - great use of descriptive words, delicate and bold to build up a very believable picture and story of the new born dragon.
Thank you! I shall pass the comments on to Iona and remind her that she can actually read them herself on this blog. She will be delighted to have received a comment. xxx
What a fabulous and lovely poem - Well done!
A very clever young lady who writes wonderful poems :)
She will be delighted to see your comment, Dee!
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