The Three Trolls - by Ben H

Once upon a time, there lived three trolls. They all lived by a raging river with killer crocs in it aimlessly swimming around in circles. However, they had to somehow cross the treacherous river, so they all decided to build one bridge each.

The first troll spent minutes building his bridge out of straw. He then walked across, but halfway across he fell through into the bone chilling water and was brutally eaten by the killer crocs. The two other trolls just stared at the jagged bridge that had just been punctured.

The second little troll built his bridge out of sticks, which took him hours to build. Once he had finished, he went to walk across and snapped a few sticks on the edge. He slipped and that was the last of the second troll, who was also eaten by the crocs.

Then the third troll built his bridge out of stone, which took days – even months to build until he had finally finished his masterpiece. He then slowly and carefully walked across and every step he took he felt nervous. He then stopped in the middle of the bridge, holding onto the solid stone rail, looking over the edge. As he stared at his half chewed up brother a tear rolled down his cheek. He finished crossing the bridge, but now another challenge awaited him... he now had to build a house that would be strong enough to survive the oncoming storm. 

How to Battle Killer Sheep - by Ben H

Read on to discover how Ben defends
himself from killer sheep by clever
use of a gumboot!

The helicopter drops me in a clearing in the forest. I have five minutes to choose four items of equipment to help me survive this dangerous journey. I grab:

binoculars, a gumboot, a ladder and a tent.

I am blindfolded during the helicopter journey. I have no idea where I am. I hear the squeaking of the throttle stick and the rotors swirling above.

The helicopter hovers a metre or so above ground and I am pushed out of the door. I tumble onto the ground and tear off my blindfold. I see thick vegetation and vines dangling from huge, thick, mossy trees.

I come to a raging river. There is no way around, I must somehow cross the treacherous water. I reach into my pack, grab my ladder, and stretch it right across the river. As I am halfway across the raging river, a huge wave storms closer and closer, I then just make it off in time before my beloved ladder joins the river.

I turn to see a pack of killer sheep advancing towards me. I reach into my pack, take out my gumboot, and pull it on. I then sprint at the sheep and kick their heads. A black evil sheep tears my gumboot into a million shards as I make my escape.

The menacing battle cry of a lone warrior pierces the silence. A heavily armoured giant charges out from behind some rocks. I reach into my pack, grab out my binoculars, stare at its huge flat face, hypnotise the giant, and tell it to walk off a cliff... and so he does. His armour rattles away and falls off and all that is left of him is his rusted armour.

I arrive at a vertical cliff. It seems impossible to ascend it. The cliff face is like glass, I cannot see any footholds. There is no way around, I must find a way to climb it. I reach into my pack and grab my tent pegs and I smash them into the rock face and start climbing. The rocks start to crumble behind me and cause an avalanche. I grab the top of the cliff and hang on as it carves itself into an overhang. I haul myself up and I feel relieved but then the overhang starts to crack. I spring past the crack and with a huge thud hit the ground below. I look down to see a cloud of dust.

I am dive-bombed by a thousand giant mosquitoes... some look large enough to pick up a small child. the drone of wings is deafening as the venomous stingers charge towards me. I reach into my pack and grab my camouflage tent and quickly set it up in the thick bush and zip it up. then I look out a small hole and see them walking around on their giant but needle thin legs, scouting through the bushes. Then they buzz off, into the night like a swarm of bees chasing someone, but way louder. I can hear them getting further and further away and then I unzip the tent, fold it, pack it back into my bag, and head off through the bushes.

I come to a swamp and begin to make my way cautiously through it. Suddenly, I lose my footing and find myself sinking... and realise I have stepped into quicksand! I reach into my pack and grab my tent string and a pole, tie them together and throw it like a javelin. I hook it around a thick mucky root. I haul myself out of the sand, climb the highest root, and look around with my binoculars to see where my next objective is. I climb onto the hard fresh ground and set up camp with the remains of my tent.

Autumn Poet's Walk

The Russley Writers' Club went on a ginko. A ginko is a walk with haiku writers, usually held at the start of a season or at a special time in a season. The poets usually walk in silence, taking in their surroundings, making notes of the words they collect along the way.

Here are some of the poems our writers created when we returned from our poet's walk. Olivia's acrostic poem was one of my favourites. As well as being a poet, Olivia is a talented netballer, and I loved the fact that she fitted netball perfectly into her Autumn poem! 

Autumn leaves flying down gracefully

Unpredictable leaves are falling

Turning different ways

Umbrellas have Autumn colours

More leaves to fall

Netballers have Autumn spirits

            flying around the court like fluttering leaves

by Olivia

The leafy smell of Autumn is here

The leaves crackling through the wind

They’re twirling, gliding, down to the ground

Smooth as a baby’s cheek

As I roll through the frosty leaves

By Riley H

Autumn is colourful and bright

Unique leaves

Trees are swaying

Uncontrolled leaves falling

Minty leaves spiralling to the ground

Nothing left on the trees

by Kaitlin

Autumn is bone chilling and damp

the leaves tear off the unfit branches

but out of all the chances

the rain pounds down

and drowns all the town

roads are abandoned

as people are stranded

raging rivers all around

are full of muck and cover the ground

the clouds are grey

and they box in the city

it’s soaked outside

which is such a pity

By Ben H

Autumn is mostly bleak

Unless it’s not cold wear a jacket

The wind howls like a thousand wolves

Unlimited leaves are dying

More leaves die

No leaves survive

By Ben T.

The frozen leaves falling
from fire breathing trees
crackling under my bare feet
flowing through the air like a lonely angel.
That’s autumn to me.

by Ben M