Wednesday, 10 December 2014

From Poet Clara

The Moon

The moon is a bike wheel sailing through space.
The moon is a silver tennis ball.
The moon is a big round plate, drifting on a black dress.
The moon is a silver bead
in a puddle of ink.
The moon is a round sellotape roll.
The moon is a white eyeball.
It is a round black and white sweet.
The moon is a golden lightning strike.


BOOMING STORM

The thunder boomed through the clouds, getting louder and louder.
Hail zipped down clattering on my head like I was being punched in the face.
Lightning zoomed across the sky like a rocket going to the moon.
The rain bucketed down like a waterfall, soaking my clothes 
as I walked home from school.
As I walked through the front door, water dripped on the carpet like a tap.
I sat by the heater.

by Clara

No comments:

Post a Comment