We’re delighted to be able to share some poetry and prose by pupils in Years 7 and 9 on the theme of Christmas.

Come, come! Join in on the celebration!
Hour, by hour, the clocks tick without hesitation
Reminding us that it's almost time, almost time for
Igniting candles, hanging stockings,
Spending time with family.
The bells are ringing, the
Morning is nearing
And children are singing;
Shh! Santa is coming!

OLUWATO O, YEAR 9

My Kind of Christmas

My kind of Christmas is decorating a tree,
Throwing snowballs at my sister,
Then she chases me!

My kind of Christmas is stealing a gingerbread man,
But my mum saw me,
So I ran!

My kind of Christmas is secretly opening a present,
But my brother saw me,
Then things weren’t that pleasant!

My kind of Christmas is watching a movie,
But I got the best seat,
So everyone was moody!

MIRI R, YEAR 7

Was it real? I hope so. A thick, enigmatic, ultramarine blanket of placidity and velour stretched over me, speckled with ivory . A glimmering sheen of beauty. As my fingers frosted at the tips, welcoming the sensational touch of the sweet, texture, cordial cheers of the neighbourhood children resonated through the air.

“Oi you! My snowball is bigger than yours!” one yelled, mounting a fearfully large, circular composition of snow in his hands.

Out of the corner of my eye, rays of colour caught my attention. I turned. Evergreen, holly red, baby blue and indigo shone from the spectacular configuration of christmas lights were intertwined throughout every nook and cranny of the neighborhood houses as the perfectly grown feathery pine that thrived outside the homes, posed as silhouettes in the infrequent dark, tones of colour. The snowflakes’ gentle glide was beyond ideal. I adored boring my eyes into the intricate in’s and out’s of them before they hit the snowy, voluminous ground, to blend into the luxuriant pillow. I continued my walk, striving further from the open snowy field, littered with jubilant kids into the street, buzzing with optimistic chatter, carolers, bakers, men dressed as Santa Claus and adorned with decor of mulberry red and royal blue slung above the tops of shops, props and festive pots.

One foot then the other. I felt as if I was preparing myself for an attack of festive happiness. Then, I was there. I stepped on a string of twine, intertwined with a knot of tinsel as my ears were tickled with the harmonious, jubilation of Christmas caroling. “Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la.”

The melodic tune rang in my ear, filling me with content. I was home.

REBEKAH W, YEAR 9

Christmas, the most wonderful time of year
Laughter, joy and cheer.
Stockings hung by the fire
And the sound of a lovely Christmas choir.

Christmas, the most fantastic season of all
Enjoyment, happiness which makes the holiday a ball.
The star is hung up on top of the tree,
And the room is filled with absolute glee.

LILY S, YEAR 7