Over the last two weeks, Chestnut Class have each completed 9 pieces of writing. Our aim was to improve our creation of specific moods, focus on details and use different sentence structures. As well as all this, we were embedding our use of fluent, joined handwriting.
We were greatly inspired by the images from Pobble365 , Edgar Allan Poe's poem 'The Raven' and the film 'Treasure'. Each of us selected our favourite piece to add to the class blog; if you click on our name to the right, it will take you straight to our work. Please leave a comment, to show how our writing is reaching a wider audience.
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In a hurry, the ancient grandma rushed towards her grim and mouldy house. With her squeaky, rusty trolley. The darkness shone around; then a flicker of light grew around her trolley. Her delicate features surrounded her with happiness and magic. Never had she imagined doing this in a dump. Quickly, she headed straight home exhausted from all of the searching she had done.
Excitingly, she trembled through her soggy cardboard door. As quick as a flash, she discovered what she had found and collected. She popped up her holey umbrella. However it may seem useless but she had something very creative in mind. Carefully, she hooked her tatty yellow umbrella on a dirty wooden pole. Beautiful light bursted through the hole that was torn and broken. The items that she had collected looked damaged and useless. Furthermore, the elderly grandmother carried on with her creative ideas. Secretly, she grabbed her lovely doves and hung them up on the pointy sharp edges of the umbrella. A spot of light shimmered on top of the candle. She covered the light with a bit of scrap which made the sight wonderful. A gorgeous smell entered the room. The moment she had being waiting for. The grandma hung her glistening diamond ring in front of the glowing candle. glory shimmered everywhere, it was magnificent. Sparkles dotted around her scrappy house. But now it looked superb with the graceful air fresheners, glowing umbrellas and her beaming diamond ring. She sat down and glanced around the room. It felt magical for the frail creative grandma. The boy stood upright on his noble stallion grasping his weapon in hand tightly with a crucifix in his pocket ready. His battle scared armour barely covered his back, or any part of my body, really.
The unidentified timber creature locked his focus onto the boy. It changed course from the village to the knight. It dragged its legs through the ground over to him “Surrender or die, puny man!” He bellowed deceitfully. “I’d rather die one thousand deaths then surrender.” He replied. “So be it...” The boy leapt off the barely-standing cliff-edge. Bravely, he swung his weapon at the mighty beast. A spark flew onto the timber- creature’s leg. The boy laughed. With a frantic flutter of her frail blood-red wings with two ebony-black spots on she hovered a centimeter away from the ground. She gazed at the velvet back round surrounding her. As she landed with a gentle wobble. She shuffled tentatively across the snow white feather from a turtle dove’s wing. Carefully, she walked along the delicate feather. As she walked the path narrowed into several different pathways.
As she gracefully scuttled across the beautiful, frosted feather, the lady-bug tentatively spread her scarlet, spotted wings: ready to take flight. The cold air skimmed her delicate antenna. She shivered. Was this a bad idea? The tip of the feather gently tickled the cold surface of the water making soft ripples in the water that shone in the moon-shine.
The icy colours contrasted against the vermilion tone of the lady-bug’s soft shell. Each half had a single identical ebony spot which stood out from the bright coloured background. What a beautiful sight to see! The water shimmered in the dim moon light. As the sun broke out of its cage of clouds the lady-bug went back into hiding and pondered what adventures she would have tomorrow. As darkness deepens, the scrapyard whines and groans like a human in distress. All around her, a vibration of creatures awake; chattering of tins and fuzzed batteries.
Rattling and clattering echoed around the deep vast valleys as the refuge quickly plucked some oddments. Reluctantly, the old pensioner plunged her putrid dirty hand into a mouldy box and a golden umbrella filled with shoe-box-sized holes met her arms. Frantically, a two-wheeled decaying trolley was wheeled sharply round a corner spotting an abandoned golf bag and some lonely golf clubs. A deafening silence embraced her as a vague silhouette casted over the scrapheap. Cautiously glancing into the corner, a car revealed itself. She stumbled over into the car; muttering under her breath; the seat dramatically collapsed. Earlier today, when she was fidgeting in the car, the elderly grandma searched without a break; she stumbled on a grim box with a beautiful clear diamond ring inside. Her heart warmed with creativity as the desperate advanced in year’s woman slowly staggered back to her cardboard house: it wasn’t waterproof. Gradually her trolley being lugged behind her- full to the brim. Successfully, the elegant lady-once she was inside (shaking wildly) started work. She was very industry as the lady the lady placed decorations neatly around the ramshackle tent-like-house. “Where should I put this?” she whispered calmly. At last, lazily sitting down, the cheerful Lady brightly gazed at her marvellous creation ‘a paradise’ she merrily thought to herself. Gleaming magically, a diamonds light sparkled like the jet-black-night sky starry sky around the luscious warm colours of the room. A weak candle flickered, unexpectedly filling warmth into the room. The umbrella gave a little shade. Her eyes glowed with pleasure. It was midnight, when the clouds starts to cover the white moon, in the ghastly forest there sits a lonely bleak house where 2 children lived one was an 18 year old girl and a 9 year old boy , they were watching some television . Suddenly a loud bang hit the transparent glass window and clicked open slowly the children were terrified creep gently and cautiously two the window , and saw the black eyed evil raven . It swooped into the room perched on the back sofa , its eyes scanning the grim room ,the raven spies the children.
As the two-dotted , blood red ladybug sat on a pure white dove like feather, the aqua-ice shimmered in the sun light. The ladybug crouched longingly on the feather, gazing at her beautiful red and charcoal reflection; she fluttered, her fragile wings blew the feather a bit waiting for the right time to fly. She looked at the indigo and purple sky behind her watching it go by. The pure white feather gradually got closer and closer to touching the azure ice. The light ladybug weighed down the bright glistening white feather towards the silky smooth ice. At the back of the feather were velvety indigo wispy parts of the perfectly-clean grey and white feather. Frantically, wheeling her bronze, rusty trolley along, the old, wrinkly pensioner unstealthily forced her cluttered, two-wheeled trolley along the indistinct lanes of the abandoned junkyard. She was strolling towards a little tent with a big cardboard opening that swung after you had gone through it. Swinging and swooping, the cardboard door swung as the old lady had made her way through it.
Inside, all that stood there was an ancient, ripped chair and a circular table in the middle of the cramped, small room. On the table was nothing: nothing but a smelling candle that scented and lit up the room. She picked up a can that clanged in her hand and carefully placed it on the flickering candle. In only a matter of seconds, she had plucked up a yellow umbrella as well as slowly hanging it on the ceiling. Spikes were sticking out of it so she hung the three dirty doves from only one piece of flimsy plastic. Next, she put the air tree shaped air-fresheners on the table and clutched the beautiful diamond ring in her hand- she wouldn’t let go! Finally, she hung the lovely ring off a fallen off piece of metal that formed a disco like light that shone all around the room- it was magnificent. The ancient lady’s face beamed that beamed from ear to ear. In amazement, she looked around the room seeing that the shadows had made a winter wonderland! It was a dark cold midnight when the grey clouds covered the blue moon, ravens blanketed the scary, dreary sky and rain flooded an ragged ramshackle where two old ravens lived; every day the two ravens wondered into the ghastly forest to escape the pesky, mean children (so they wouldn’t chase or scare them) in the forest it was dark damp and gargantuan but at night when nobody came the ravens came out and filled the sky.
One of the ravens new an old lady that lived in a decade rotting castle he knew her very well and knew that her husband (a king) passed away 2 years ago since then she has never seen anyone Every night the raven would fly in and land on a rotting pocket watch. He sits there; sitting, waiting for the bleak December to fly past. Her house was amazingly big and warm. TRAPPED. Trapped in the old chambers – a crow was nevermore seen until three nights past when the century old castle couldn’t hold for much longer, one of the hundreds of bricks collapsed leaving a minute hole for the raven to sneakily escape the jaws of this monstrous house. He travelled on, flying and flying past hills galore. There the lost lady was in all her glory perched beside the crystal clear, glass like lake. He sat beside her, and she glanced at him then exclaimed” you came!” she was glad he was not history “would you keep me company forevermore?” Then of he flew into the ghastly woods never to be seen again… |
AuthorChestnut Class is a year 6 class in East Harling Primary School. Although our teacher - Mrs Wills - will be posting our posts; our writing is all our own and will not be corrected by her. Please comment on our posts as we love feedback. Archives
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