The Reading Journey
 
Embark in the dark
on a sparkling adventure.
Glide on the tide
to the rhythm of words.
Wait at the gates
of a towering castle.
Fly in the sky
on the wings of a bird.
 
Fight in the night
with the dragons and demons.
Flee to the sea
where the mermaids reside.
Dash to the clash
and the crash of a tempest.
Unlock the box
with its secret inside.
 
Lunch with a bunch
of baboons in the jungle.
Zoom through the gloom
where the fireflies glow.
Jump to the thump
of the language of letters.
A book is your ticket
to life. Off you go.
 
By Joshua Siegal
from his poetry collection ‘Yapping Away’

​Find it in the library 😍

Spring
​
I’m shouting
I’m singing
I’m swinging through trees
I’m winging sky-high
with the buzzing black bees.
I’m the sun
I’m the moon
I’m the dew on the rose.
I’m a rabbit
whose habit
is twitching his nose.
I’m lively
I’m lovely
I’m kicking my heels.
I’m crying “Come dance”
To the freshwater eels.
I’m racing through meadows
without any coat
I’m a gamboling lamb
I’m a light leaping goat
I’m a bud
I’m a bloom
I’m a dove on the wing.
I’m running on rooftops
and welcoming spring!
 
by Karla Kuskin

                                                                                         Sounds of Nature


Take a minute to close your eyes 😊

Can you hear the crashing of the waves meeting
together on a Winter day?

Can you hear the dolphin singing and laughing
on a Spring day?

Can you feel the sea breeze touching the tip of your nose
on an Autumn day?

Can you se the yellow fire of the sun rising from the ocean
towards the blue cloudy sky?

Can you see the mountain almost covered by the misty fog
on a morning of a Spring day?

When you are feeling down and gloomy just remember to
close your eyes and take a minute and hear and see the sounds
​that will make your day 😊

By Fatimah, Class 5

This is the rhythm
of the boneyard rap,
knuckle bones click
and hand bones clap,
finger bones flick
and thigh bones slap,
when you’re doing the rhythm
of the boneyard rap.
Wooooooooo!
 
It’s the boneyard rap
and it’s a scare.
Give your bones a shake-up
if you dare.
Rattle your teeth
and waggle your jaw
and let’s do the boneyard rap
once more.
 
This is the rhythm
of the boneyard rap,
elbow bones clink
and backbones snap,
shoulder bones chink
and toe bones tap,
when you’re doing the rhythm
of the boneyard rap.
Wooooooooo!
 
It’s the boneyard rap
and it’s a scare.
Give your bones a shake-up
if you dare.
Rattle your teeth
and waggle your jaw
and let’s do the boneyard rap
once more.
 
This is the rhythm of the boneyard rap,
ankle bones sock
and arm bones flap,
pelvic bones knock
and knee bones zap,
when you’re doing the rhythm
of the boneyard rap.
Wooooooooo!
 

 
Poem © Wes Magee.

On Tuesday 5th July, a plaque to commemorate the Bryant & May Matchgirls and their famous strike of 1888, was unveiled by the actor Anita Dobson. Seven students at Blue Gate Fields Juniors won prizes in ‘Sparkcatchers', a children’s poetry competition on the subject of  that strike, and The Matchgirls struggle for better working conditions. The  competition was run by The Matchgirls Memorial, a charitable organisation. 
We had a great day in the sunshine, listening to the speeches, reading out our poems, and having a lovely picnic!
All the winning entries have been published on the Matchgirls Memorial website. https://www.matchgirls1888.org/
See below for the 1st prize winners in Year 4 and Year 5.

Matchgirls
 
My work was tough in the factory,
Aching legs and sore arms, my everyday feelings.
The girls around me, as young as 6 years old.
Cancer, spreading through our bones, devouring us each.
How we craved justice, you wouldn’t comprehend.
Gritting the few teeth we had left, we decided to take strike …
It was 1888, and our protest had been successful
Respect and freedom is what we finally received.
London, Bow, a factory of labour was finally destroyed.
So, as worthless as people thought of us, we DID make a difference and gain the appreciation we deserved.
 
 
By Asiya 
Year 4

The Boss’s Story
 
Day 1
Outrageous!
Nobody has come. We have to give them a big fine!
 
Day 2
The matches aren’t gonna make themselves. Yes, they better come!
 
Day 3
Mmmmm, what’s this? They’re on strike?
Fools!
 
Day 4
They want better conditions and a raise?
Never!
 
Day 5
They’re lucky they’re not fired!
 
Day 6
I’ll test the conditions. See what the fuss is about.
 
Day 7
It’s impossible to work here!
They’re getting a big raise and better conditions.
Right this instant!
 
By Ayyub 
Year 5

I Opened A Book
​by Julia Donaldson

I opened a book and in I strode
Now nobody can find me.
I’ve left my chair, my house, my road,
My town and my world behind me.

I’m wearing the cloak, I’ve slipped on the ring,
I’ve swallowed the magic potion.
I’ve fought with a dragon, dined with a king
And dived in a bottomless ocean.

I opened a book and made some friends.
I shared their tears and laughter
And followed their road with its bumps and bends
To the happily ever after.

I finished my book and out I came.
The cloak can no longer hide me.
My chair and my house are just the same,
But I have a book inside me.


From 'Crazy Mayonnaisy Mum', find it in the Poetry section of the library.

They were the Rorschach of the winter months,
the folding of sky-shadows,
of air-shoals pirouetting into the January nip,
swarms riding frosted winds,
silently testing the sky with their ink-magic.
 
Not ready for the tentacle gathering
that rose from the east
the heat of spring starlings
cloaked in oil slicks
needle beaked
and strong of claw.
 
The clash of murmurs
was whispered
in a rain of birds
as flightless feathers fell
in the war of winds.
 
Winter flew into spring,
black storms colliding with hot nights.
The murmurations twisted through one another
winter desperate to stay,
spring determined to arrive.
 
The people watch as feathers cloak them
farmers clutching hopeful seeds
children gazing with eager fingers
on buttoned jackets.
Which swarm will win this war?
 
But the birds that come with the sun
are always victorious – the winter flock is tired
their wings have beaten cold into existence
it is time for them to leave.
 
Beaten and flight-sore the winter murmuration
rides its ribbon away
as spring’s flock swoops into longer days
and brighter skies,
as farmers test the warmth of soil
and children release that first coat button.
 
This poem is from ‘A Year of Nature Poems’  by Joseph Coelho, illustrated by Kelly Louise Judd. (Text copyright Joseph Coelho, 2019)
Inspired by a legend of two murmurations of starlings warring above the City of Cork in Ireland in the 1600s.
Starlings have never been known to war in flocks but they certainly do fly in spectacular large groups, known as murmurations.
Glossary:
A Murmuration is when  hundreds, sometimes thousands, of starlings fly in swooping, intricately coordinated patterns through the sky.
Pirouette means to whirl about, and is a ballet movement.
The Rorschach test uses  a person's perceptions of inkblots  to examine someone's personality.
Starlings are small birds. They look black at a distance but when seen closer they are very glossy with a sheen of purples and greens.

In this photograph, a murmuration of starlings appears to be creating an
image of a giant bird!