Posted in Bowral Public School, Young Artists in Action

Young Writers in Action: Into the Mist

INTO THE MIST
by Maya, 11, Bowral Public School, NSW

A tree in mist, photo from pexels.comI always wondered what the mist could do, I wonder if it could fly high or create images, too. Could it be a theme park or could it be an adventure to a brand new world? Today was a really misty day in Bugs-worth. You couldn’t see the foot path, nor could you see our plain sky. The day was very different to our wonderful sunny days.

The birds weren’t coming out of the trees and everyone’s furry little friends didn’t want to come and play. None of the children wanted to come outside. It was very unusual, all the children would play in their front yards.

I decided to go and have a look to see what was going on and then I realised I was walking on water. I didn’t know who or what created the mist but they would pay. I kept on walking and I finally found what was creating the mist. It was a giant mist monster.

I wonder what will destroy the mist monster, probably not bird droppings, not water but maybe a sweet lullaby? Nothing will work, I might have to try something different. I decided to shine a light on the monster.

It finally decided to disappear and go put some more mist on another place or country. When I eventually got back to my home the whole place was covered in filthy bugs and rubbish. It looks like the next hour of the day will be cleaning up. After a while all the children and animals in Bugs-worth were all out and playing around.

The world will never know the name of the person who saved the whole world from the beast. I am the saviour of the world and no one can do it ever again.


We’ve been sharing writing from students at Bowral Public School over the past few days. If you’d like to send us YOUR book review, story, poem or artwork, check out our submission guidelines

Posted in Young Artists in Action

Young writers in action: The Parched Oak Tree

THE PARCHED OAK TREE

by Odette, 11, QLD

 

In the faulty shade of the parched oak tree

There’s a bare old branch for you and me.

Many before us had a place to be,

And we’d all sit by and watch the sea.

 

Long of limb, leaning over the wake,

Serene in the wind, where the sea meets the lake,

A witness of the water; it watches the waves break,

In Autumn subdued; summer monsoonal storms put it at stake.

 

Safe from the storm, each branch waxes nimble,

While the sea dwellers mingle in the shingle,

The culvert of the trunk where the leaf litter hide are

wrangled by the gale and the current and the tide,

And brings rolling forth from somewhere adrift,

the mighty hull of a wallowing ship.


This is Odette’s first poem published with Alphabet Soup. If YOU would like to send us a story, drawing, poem, or book review, check out our submission guidelines. Happy writing!