Wonderful Thinkers at Hokowhitu School

Amazing poems for you to enjoy!

Poetry Group

Posted in Uncategorized on March 31, 2010 by wonderfulthinkers

This wonderful group of children have used their creative skills to write amazing poetry.

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FALCON VOICETHREAD

Posted in Uncategorized on March 31, 2010 by wonderfulthinkers

Wonderful Thinkers!

Posted in Uncategorized on February 22, 2010 by wonderfulthinkers

 Welcome to our Wonderful Thinkers.

Our first group of wonderful thinkers are poetry writers!

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Here are our first poems. We have been thinking about similes. See how the lines of the poem describe the title.

TIGER

Fur as smooth as a piece of silk

Eyes as dark as a black cave

Silently stalking its prey alone

With no one there to save.

Show the strut of the cat

Let them quiver in fear

Chew them like a piece of gum,

Can’t even shed a tear.

TIGER

By Madison

PIG

Tail as tangled as a vine winding round a tree

Hooves as hard as bolts

Belly like a beach ball bouncing through the air

Always rumbling, grumbling.

PIG

By Hayley


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LEAF

Crunchy like corn chips

Green like freshly mown grass

Smooth like a pillow

Silently glides through the night sky

LEAF

By Sarah


LEAF

As camouflaged as an army troop

headed off to war,

As light as a bird’s delicate feather

Stem as straight as an HB pencil

Floating through the cool breeze

LEAF

By Myah

For this next group of poems we looked at a variety of boxes and then used one of these or came up with our own idea for our writing.

BOX OF QUESTIONS

Inside my drawer

All safe and secure

Is my box of questions.

Deep, deep at the back of my drawer

I hide the golden key

The key to my box.

Inside my box it is mayhem

Questions are flying everywhere.

If you open my box

You will find yourself lost within words.

When you explore my box

You will find every question

You will ever think of.

My box of questions

Is for everyone to journey through

and enjoy.

Written by Myah

The Box of Midnight Secrets

In the box of midnight secrets

Owls hoot in the darkness of night,

Magic spills out in a dark dusty colour

The box is deep in the ground

Hoping that one day it will be found.

The secrets swirl and whirl

Out in the moony dark

Reaching for the sky with golded hands

But when the morning arrives

The secrets go back to their humble hives.

Then they sleep

Deep in the ground

Hoping that one day

They will be found.

By Emma


THE BOX OF IDEAS

In a red metal box

there is a dusty blue wooden box.

When I get an idea

it goes directly inside that wooden box

and remains there.

At night

the  boxes gradually open

and the idea spreads to the world

for everyone to possess.

But when you open the box inside the box,

the ideas will disappear

But the box is locked

without a key or a lock.

WRITTEN BY EDWARD

For these portrait poems we read Portrait of a Dragon by Moira Andrew. We used the poem as a model and then wrote our own poems. We put a lot of thought into choosing descriptive language and really thinking like a poet.

Portrait of a Falcon

If I were an

artist, I’d paint

the portrait

of a falcon.

I would give

him razor-sharp

talons in a

sandy yellow.

He would have

eyes like diamonds

shining in the

bright light.

His feathers would

be a cloudy grey

with lightning crackling

in the distance.

His beak would

be like giant’s

pincers.

He would have

tail feathers like

magic carpets, soaring

through the air.

He would be

Like the god of

fire and flame.

That is how I

would paint the

portrait of a

falcon.

By Emma

Portrait of a Dragon

If I were an artist

I’d paint the portrait

of a dragon.

For his back, I’d

need the rippling water

of the sea, all deep green.

For his wings I’d

need velvety weed

from a riverbed.

For his mouth, I’d need huge entrances

of caves on the side

of rocky mountains.

For his teeth I’d get

a blacksmith to craft them

for me.

His tongue would be

forked lightning

Spiking in all directions.

his eyes would be

light red just like

the sunset in the distance.

For his tail I’d

need a trained bonsai

tree, with never-ending

curls.

His horns and spines

would be dangerous,

sharp coral in tons

of different colours.

But the fiery breath

is best. I’d get steaming

hot magma from deep

down in the core

of a volcano.

And finally my dragon

is finished.

Written by Matthew

Hello world!

Posted in Uncategorized on February 22, 2010 by wonderfulthinkers

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