Towers School and Sixth Form Centre

Towers School's Poet Laureate

Towers School is proud to announce the following students have been appointed the prestigious title of Towers School Poet Laureate:

  • Lilia Stone - KS3 Poet Laureate and Canterbury Festival's Young Poet of the Year
  • Pam Ejemai - KS4 Poet Laureate 
  • Charlie Anderson-Rouse - KS5 Poet Laureate
  • Evi Taylor - Welfare Poet Laureate

They will each represent the school by penning poetry for important school events, national occasions and world news. Their poems will be published here on the website so everyone has a chance to read their wonderful pieces. 

We hope you enjoy them as much as we do!

International Haiku Day 2024

 

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

Snow

 

Enveloped in white 

Snow falls gently in silence 

Mountains are calling 

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

Haiku?

 

What is a haiku?

I don't know either, do you?

I didn't think so.

 

KS5 Poet Laureate - Charlie Anderson-Rouse

Spring

 

Rise from winter's nap

Reaching to catch the sun's rays

Spring, a sign of hope

 

Welfare Poet Laureate - Evi Taylor

 

Self-Acceptance

 

Acceptance blooms deep

Petals of self-love unfurl, 

Yes, embrace your truth.


 

Ash Wednesday

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

Love on Ash Wednesday

When I was young I knew exactly what love looked like 

I had never seen love 

But if I ever did I’d recognise him immediately 

Love had soft hair a blue eyes

Love wasn’t scared to ride to school with me 

And I knew 

I must be looking in the wrong places 

Turning round the wrong corners 

He was there, I was certain of it 

 

Then love finally came 

He had spiked hair 

And wore the same outfit for everyday of the week

Love hated bikes

Every time I tried to hold his hand something was in the way

Love became the centre of my lies 

Love was terrible at telling the time

But love grew 

Like a shoot from the ground 

Love changed 

Love faded away 

Like baby teeth, losing parts of me I thought I needed 

Love went to hide 

And everyone could see the trapdoor but me 

 

Love was gone  

And as if by magic he finally  reappeared, 

I barely recognised him 

Love had longer hair and darker eyes 

Love came with freckles and a voice I didn’t recognise 

A new softer voice 

New favourite songs 

New favourite movies 

But we found a bench that fitted us perfectly 

And new stories that made us laugh 

And now love buys our favourite cookies 

But will probably eat them as a snack 

Love is the worst driver but a good navigator 

Love chews too loud 

Love leaves the cap of the milk 

And turns out 

Love knits 

But love is there 

Love cares 

love is not all perfect 

Love is not who was expected

Love is not predicted

But Love is still mine 

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

‘Repent from your sins and turn to God for Heaven is near’

‘Unless you repent you will all likewise perish’

It is easier to beg for forgiveness than be the one forgiving

It is easier to sit in the dock of the court than the bench

To know that your God is more forgiving than you is a heavy burden to carry

We are all in the likeness of the Lord

Although most heavily defaced

To be human, is to soil the image of God 

But to scrub

To attempt to brush away the scum, 

Dirt band muck that defaces the image of God is a task worthy of praise

Happy Ash Wednesday



KS5 Poet Laureate - Charlie Anderson-Rouse

Change

Today marks the day we repent our sins

Today is the day we become better versions of our self

Today we choose to be good and follow God's path

Today we turn our back on evil

 

No temptation, no sins, no rebellion

For today we create a cleaner, better soul

The soul that will carry you through hard times and bad 

The soul that will help you be kinder

 

Ash Wednesday. The first day of Lent.

The first day of cleanse from evil and all that stops us following the right direction

Today marks the rebirth of our bodies

Today marks the change, the goodness of the world. 



Welfare Poet Laureate - Evi Taylor

Gratefulness 

Oh how grateful I am for the start of this life. 

Because it's only the beginning 

Do you ever want to cry over the fact of how wonderful life is?

When i’m sad, i will think of how the sun and the rain

Work together to create a burst

Of colours in the sky despite being 

Complete opposites.

I’ll wish on the 

Plastic stars taped to my ceiling 

And admire the way ink stains my fingers 

After writing the ‘perfect poem’

I love the way that when i have no words to say, my pen will speak for me 

 

Oh how grateful I am for the start of this life. 

Because it's only the beginning 

There is so much more for me. 

 

So when i'm sad,

I’ll remember these ways in which this world 

Displays its love in such a raw and chaotic way 

 

The fourteenth of February 

The commercial celebration of romance and love. 

Learning how love doesn't only exist in fantasy. 

Reminders of human mortality

New beginnings.

I will remember how grateful I am for my life now and all the things yet to come. 

i will sit here and reminisce 

Have you noticed how wonderful life is?

Chinese New Year - The Year of the Dragon

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

The Artist

If I was an artist I would paint a dragon 

It’s fiery breath piercing through the black paint as the night sky 

I’d paint it’s claws as daggers digging into the ground 

I’d make its neck a coil of teal and indigo like the deep ocean 

It’s scales would layer on one another, the moon reflecting colours of emerald green of the thousands of them 

I’d create it’s eyes to show the untameable wildness of this beast 

I’d make its smile full of razor sharp teeth pointing down towards its next enemy.

Its wings stretched out across the canvas creating the dragon. 

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

Chinese New Year

Jiaozi and dayu darou galore

Eat till your heart's content, then eat some more!

 

Firecrackers and red clothes

Set off firecrackers with colourful smokes

 

The Spring festival, lets celebrate the new year

Family and friends smiling ear to ear

 

Make sure not to clean to sweep away any good luck

Do not shower, no matter the muck

 

The year of the dragon, intensely powerful

Charismatic, intelligent with your cup, continue to be blessed, let your spirit be lifted

 

Exchange a mandarin in pairs with your friend

Let the celebration come to no end!



KS5 Poet Laureate - Charlie Anderson-Rouse

The Dragon Is You

As we close the book on the white fluffy rabbit,

We open one about a creature with piercing eyes.

Celebrating this day has become more of a habit, 

But yet so much more important that we may realise.

 

We think back and reflect on the past 365 days,

And we welcome what the next 366 days may hold.

The bad memories that keep us down we erase,

And keep the ones that are worth more than gold.

 

With red, green and blue scales

It's time to show yourself.

This creature is far from any whales, 

And will kindly protect us with its stealth.

 

2024, the year of the dragon,

The year where hopes and dreams come true.

There's no need to sit and imagine,

For this year the dragon is you.

Welfare Poet Laureate - Evi Taylor

New Beginnings

The beginning is such a magnificent concept

A first page

Blank slate

Having no idea how wild and twisty

The thought of this beginning will feel in your soul

And in your stomach 

When it's only a memory 

 

The most charming part about it is your ignorance to how it will end,

Because it will. 

Because Everything does. 

And when you get to begin all over again

And whether it’s the simplicity of the beginning of a movie you haven't watched yet

One that will become your favourite 

Or an antagonising start 

That follows an end you didn't want

But it's the end you needed

Even if you had time to prepare

 

It's the way your life begins again

After saying goodbye to something or someone are

Those beginnings

Are the ones you get to turn your head back to when you get to the middle

Because sometimes

Those kinds of beginnings don't have an end

And you get to see how far you’ve come

 

The beginning is special in that way

A marker of progress

Some starts are easy to spot

And some are camouflaged to only show themselves later on.

Once they're already finished 

You will be lucky enough to be aware you’re in the prologue of your first and next chapter. 

 

Try to memorise the best you can

The smell of walking into a coffee shop, 

The feeling of starting secondary school, 

The way your hands shake when you pick up your pen before your first exam.

The confusing mix of sadness and relief

After a necessary goodbye

The first deep breath you take when you step outside every morning.

 

All of these

Though they may feel earth stopping- 

Are beginnings in disguise 

It's so easy to say:

‘Remember how we used to be in the beginning?’ 

‘I wish things still felt that way.’

Or

‘Thank goodness that's over.’

 

But the beauty and the truth of it all

Is that this time in your life is also

The beginning of something

Good or bad

And you will look back to this beginning

Though you were not aware that it was 

And you will feel that twisty feeling in your soul

And in your stomach

You will take note of the time that has passed and begin to wonder which beginning you and myself have started today. 

Proud to be Towers - Dec 2023

 

#ProudtobeTowers

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia 

 

Though success is sometimes delayed it is never permanently unachievable 

Your dreams may be difficult but they are never unreachable 

For troubles we will always have to face 

To be able to brave the storm there must be a storm in the first place 

The right to have a education 

Give us a life with a foundation 

A foundation lets us brave the belly of the beast 

When the noise of life is quiet it doesn’t always mean peace 

School gives life motion 

To deal with society's norms and notions 

If you’re proud of who you are live your life in no doubt 

But if you’re proud and you go to Towers the world better watch out 



KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam 

School, oh school, a world of knowledge,

Where learning takes flight

From maths to science, and history too,

Every subject brings something new.

In classrooms filled with eager minds

Teachers guide and help us find

The joy of discovery and exploration

Friends are made within these walls,

Creating memories as the time crawls.

Together we laugh, we learn, we grow,

Chasing dreams, letting imaginations flow.

Though at times it may seem tough,

We push through, never giving up.

For in this place, we work and strive,

To shape our future and truly thrive.

To be the best version of yourself

To be the best you can be

Put your Towers uniform on with pride for the world to see.

 

KS5 Poet Laureate - Charlie 

Every day at 8:40 the school day starts,

Silently sitting waiting for our next instruction.

It's time to settle down and get ready to create some art,

And if you’re performing you could become part of the production. 

 

Everyone’s respectful and life here is very calm,

The teachers can be strict but that's only because they care.

If you want to talk, raise your arm,

And most importantly sit it up straight in your chair.

 

There are many reasons why I’m #proudtobetowers,

And here I've named a few.

Have a think in the next few hours,

Could this be you?



Thrive Poet Laureate - Evi 

 

Proud to be towers.

Am I proud? 

What does it mean to be so?

Some say:

‘To accomplish‘

‘To do well in something’ 

‘To be impressive’ 

‘TO KNOW YOU’RE GOOD.’

To me?

 

Being proud reminds me of…

everything i have been through 

Everything I have achieved, 

Everything this school has given me.

 

It reminds me of…

The family I have been a part of, 

How we are Something bigger than ourselves. 

and greater than we could have imagined.

 

Yeah. 

I’m proud. 

 

I’m proud. 

Proud of myself, 

Proud of others,

Proud of who we will become.

Proud to be Towers.

 

Winter

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia 

 

From the white snow I made a snowball 

as round as can be 

I thought I would keep it as a friend 

Keep it in my bed with me 

I made it some pyjamas 

And a soft pillow for its head 

Then last night it ran away 

But first it wet the bed 

 

Outside I found a icicle 

As pointed as a spear 

I put it to my eye 

So I could see things far and near 

I found it a home 

I put it in a glass near the sink 

I turned my back 

And it had left me a drink 

 

From the long day I was thirsty 

So I went over to the fridge 

And like a Christmas miracle 

I found my favourite drink 

It’s creamy and delicious 

And smooth like silk 

I’m so glad we have brown cows 

To give us  chocolate milk 

 

As the day drew to an end 

It’s time to put out mince pies 

Put my feet up 

Look at the stockings hanging by ties 

Watch a Christmas movie 

In the early evening sitting in the lounge  

6:30 is the best time 

Hands down 

 

Get the snacks out 

Savoury and sweet 

Stuff our faces 

Till we just want to sleep 

I want a bit if everything 

I make my way through the food bit by bit

But I should complain about this donut 

It’s got a hole in it 

 

Time to open presents 

A smile on everyone’s face 

Everyone has their gifts in piles 

People pushing to sit in their place 

Apparently there’s an organised way to do this 

I just want to see what I get 

But don’t worry if plan A doesn’t work 

There are 25 more letters in the alphabet 

 

After dinner we start to pack away 

Wash up the cup and plates 

Prepare ourselves 

To brave the large Christmas cake 

Wrapping up the trimmings to take to the fridge 

Tomorrow we will make a pie 

But you should always knock on the fridge

Just in case there’s a salad dressing inside 



KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam 

 

What's So Good About Winter?

 

Biting, freezing, numbing cold 

Dark skies and dead flies 

Short days and long nights

Red eyes and cold tears

Draw ever near

A new year

Sniffling noses and numb hands 

Squinting eyes and icy lands

Golden sun that won't arise

Melting snowmen with warm eyes

Warm blankets but cold hearts 

Lonely people worlds apart

“But Christmas?”

What about it?

Big trees with big lights

Loud mouths and petty fights

Shop windows filled with presents

Struggling parents who can't afford their rents

What's so good about winter?

Red noses with laughing friends

Warmth and joy that knows no end

Cosy clothes and fluffy socks

Christmas songs and grandfather clocks

Igloos and snow angels

Christmas stockings and Thanksgiving tables

Winter romances and freezing love

Falling into snow from a shove

What's so good about winter? 

You keep dodging the question

I know not what to tell you but only what to feel 

 

KS5 Poet Laureate - Charlie 

 

Winter Memories

 

As the air turns crisp and a carpet of white begins to lay,

I will remember.

As the streets fill with colourful lights and people sing deck the halls,

I will remember.

 

I will remember the nights we stayed up waiting for Father Christmas,

I will remember the cold nights drinking hot chocolate.

I will remember the fluffy pyjamas with odd socks,

I will remember the way you never tried to stop me believing. 

 

As the people sing Deck the Halls, I remember it doesn't feel like Christmas at all.

Last year, when you were here, we had so much fun.

But this year I'll sing driving home for Christmas that little louder,

And I'll remember the memories.

 

The memories that made these last 16 winters so excellent, so happy, so perfect

The memories that I will treasure forever

The memories that every year will come flooding back to me in waves of joy

The memories that will keep me going.

 

So amongst all the rocking around the Christmas tree

All the dreaming of a white Christmas, 

There will always be a golden angel dancing with us.

And every winter season it will come back,

Through the robin dancing on the fence.




Thrive Poet Laureate - Evi 

 

Listen. It’s peaceful; It's quiet. 

The white blanket of comfort, snow hugs the grass and benches, 

Muffling the sound of the owls 

singing to its young.

 

It's peaceful; it’s Quiet. 

Winter has arrived. 

at last but not at least. 

 Each person. Alone. In small storybooks of their own lives.

the kettle warms their cups, 

Each at different points in their own chapters.

 

The winter moon watched over everything 

like a mother and her offspring. 

Watching the snowflakes answer their worries,

She shines a light on her unspoken treasures.

Celebrating All their little victories and joys.  

Something she felt as if she created. 

She sits and watches. 

 

Quiet. 

Winter is a new beginning.

Bringing a cool warmth .

A new fashion to everything.

It's A time to fulfil each of those different fairy tales. 

The frost starts to settle and the people start to dream,

Saying goodnight to the moon. 

Listen. It’s peaceful; It's quiet. 

Remembrance Day 2023

pls and guests 2023 remembrance day.pdf

 

Theme of Reflection

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

The Year Gone By

The year is new, the future bright,

A world of wonder, a shining light.

The days ahead, a path unknown,

A journey to take, a seed to be sown.

 

The clock strikes twelve, the new year's born,

A chance to change, a time to transform.

The world awaits, a future to see,

A place to discover, a life to be.

 

The days go by, the months unfold,

A story to write, a tale to be told.

The world evolves, a cycle of change,

A world to explore, a life to arrange.

 

The year is 2023, a chance to begin,

A world to live, a life to win.

The future awaits, a path to take,

A world to discover, a life to make.

 

The clock ticks on, the hours go by,

A life to live, a world to try.

The days go by, the weeks unfold,

A story to write, a tale to be told.

 

Time is fleeting, a moment to seize,

A world to explore, a life to please.

The clock ticks on, the years go by,

A world to embrace, a life to try.

 

The past is gone, the future unknown,

A life to live, a world to own.

The present is here, a moment to take,

A world to discover, a life to make.

 

Tick-tock goes the clock,

A sound of time, a rhythm to unlock.

The seconds pass, the minutes fly,

A life to live, a world to try.

 

The crown is placed upon his head,

A symbol of power, a life well led.

The people cheer, the trumpets sound,

A new King for the throne is crowned.

 

His robes are rich, his sceptre bright,

A ruler strong, a shining knight.

He takes his place upon the throne,

A king to rule, a kingdom to own.

 

The realm is his, the power great,

A duty to serve, a noble fate.

He leads his people with a just hand,

A king to follow, a true command.

 

The coronation is a moment grand,

A new era was born, a mighty stand.

The king has come, the kingdom thrives,

A new chapter begins, a life he strives.

 

Thrive Poet Laureates - ‘Dove’

1.

sometimes i look at the images of my younger self

the little girl who ran through the woods

with giggles and smiles and songs in her lungs

Do I wish I could return to her? yes but more than anything i wish she could meet me

i wish i could blow dandelions with her

help her make bridges across the creek

give her the safe space that she so badly needs

i want to squeeze her tight, tell her everything will be okay

that life will get harder but it won't always be that way

i'd give her a pile of our favourite books,

a stack of journals too

id beg her to pick up the paint brush

do all the things that set her soul on fire

never let anyone discourage you from what will help you get through

i wish that i could give her some of her innocence back

give her time to not be a soldier she'll have plenty of years to be the glue of the family, i know now that her and i are older

i'd wrap my arms around her wish her good luck,

show her she can make it out.

2.

If you were asked to hold a glass of water knowing nothing more than at some point it would be recollected. 

Every so often a small amount would drain from the glass as an attempt to lessen the weight and burden from your hand.

As time would go on it would eventually set in that holding this glass was your new reality.

Filled with feelings of frustration, 

unfairness and isolation that you are the one stuck with the task. 

Yet still you hold the glass. 

But the glass overtime begins to become heavier, and heavier.

until you're almost certain it will soon slip from your hand altogether.

it doesn't. 

Instead you notice the weight began to lighten. 

Not all at once but slowly, 

without even realizing, 

your hand has adapted. 

New gripping techniques and new found strengths begin to lessen the weight.

And then finally one day you will look over and although your hand remains molded in the outline... 

the glass is gone. 

But even despite its absence some days you still remember that glass. The glass recollected, but your hand forever changed

3.

When I look back at my reflection of this year I could go two ways 

Like the Mirror may shatter 

Or shine 

The time I have done in school 

The perseverance of going into class 

The things you hate the most 

Shine 

The reports 

The time 

Who am I? 

I could never answer the question 

The Mirror doesn't match up 

Like the reflection doesn’t work 

What is going on?

I like who I am. 

The shows and dance 

The exams and school 

Are now a little less stress 

I like the reflection. 

I like the Mirror. 

I like the reflection…..

World Ocean Day

 

King Charles III Coronation

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

The King bedecked in a robe of purple and blue 

His shiny gold chalice swaying in the abbey 

A crown rest firmly upon his head 

As he holds the sceptre proud and true 

Ready to serve the nation 

Lift everyone’s spirits 

The red velvet carpet leads up to the canopy over his throne 

The soldiers march up and down 

Everything stops, the trumpets blare out 

The King is coronated 

Long live the King 

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

First of four 

heir to the throne

King Charles the III

First son of queen Elizabeth

Training for the day he would be crowned King 

Watching and learning from 70 years of reign

Ample knowledge pounded into him to become a befitting monarch 

A modern take on a monarch

His precedents fought wars

while he will combat climate

A rule given so late can only rule so long

The people pray for a rule of quality and peace

The crown will pass in the spring morning of May. 

International Women's Day 2023

KS3 Poet Laureate: Lilia Stone

The Girl

The meadow softly blew by a summer breeze 

Thoughts of her utter strength stampeded through my mind 

The summer sky reflecting her beauty 

As we blew the dandelions with wishes of justice 

And the buttercups light up our faces revealing her potential 

Her kindness permeates the fresh air 

As the memories warm our  souls

The sun settles to set 

Uncovering her potential in life 

The shadows covering her in the darkness 

Wiped clean to show the womanhood concealed within her 

We watched as the weeds grew over the plants 

Until emerging stronger from the ground a rose held captive by the plants around it 

Finally pushed its way up 

The braveness bounced upon our faces

The pure beauty of that moment will be remembered for evermore 

When i met the girl with a rose in her hand

National Unplugged Day 2023 

National Unplugging Day

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

Unplug

Encapsulated in a sea of grief 

The light never stops shining 

An artificial mask 

For the darkness uncovered in reality 

We hide away amongst its branches 

Longing for life free from its grasp

 

Beckoned by a fatal ping 

Held captive by the endless flashes of light 

And the repetitive melody of its song 

They can never die 

Yet with the power of one touch 

The trance is broken 

The world comes into focus 

The awe of endless capability consumed our mind 

 

Millions of pixels merge into one infinite clear image 

An image of pure vibrancy 

A comfort to our being 

Serene silence slices through the chaos

Tranquillity replaces the stress

An interminable spiral of screens 

Wiped clean to see whats right in front of our eyes 

 

Calm 



KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

Set it Down

set it down

leave it at home

step outside

feel the sun

let your heart fill with the wonders of life 

put the phone down 

 

set it down 

delete that nasty message

remove the hate comment

set the phone down

 

set it down

send a letter instead of a text

draw a heart instead of sending the emoji

give them a hug

put the phone down


KS5 Poet Laureate - Caelyn Walshe

Faith in You

Those eyes of yours are tired, aren’t they? 

I can see the bloodshot veins

And the straining

Of many unslept hours. 

Those airways of yours are swollen, aren’t they? 

I can hear the dry croaking 

Of your throat without clean air

From dusk till morning. 

Those lips of yours are painful, aren’t they? 

I can see the cracks and

Sprains and splats 

Of red with flags of meagre skin. 

 

Hands so heavy from the metal they hold. 

You never did like the open air. 

Now your bones are fragile 

And your mind is the size of a pip

Floating in an empty river of bile. 

 

The eyes of another became all you cared for in that little chest of yours. 

The angel in your heart became trapped beneath the glass screen 

As you held them up for auction in front of an abattoir of strangers

With your mouth stitched together from the stampings

It has taken. 

The light cannot breathe with nothing but glass and light. 

Your angel will fry against the pressures of a plastic world. 

 

Seen is the triumph but not the path there. 

Tell me, where 

Would you see a broken heart and an empty pocket as a millionaire has a screaming fit. 

No, you would not. 

This electronic idol has become our gospel. 

Praise her on your knees with your wrists bound by fiction 

And watch the world burning into ash

Through the pleasure of your idle depiction despite

The truth just before your bedroom window. 

Would you look to the air as you tasted the end of us all,

Or stare at the image of imitation

On your mobile whilst she steals your time and imagination.

 

Grey hairs will strike with your skin less like rubber. 

Your eyes will wither and your lungs will stutter. 

Life can fly like a butterfly 

Those strangers will leave you as is usual with life. 

The idol will hold you and keep your head pressed

Against the window of the life you once could have had. 

Your child took their steps but you watched through a screen. 

Your outdoor wedding day may come but you snapped and sent the green. 

Your lover may die for you yet all you see is the ring. 

When the appraisal of others is sober.

When the barrels of strangers are clear. 

You will raise your head to your bedroom window

And this vibrant world you will hear. 

Valentine's Day

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

What happened?

What happened?

Where along the line did I lose the person I loved?

I didn’t know something so beautiful could rot away 

To reveal such a wreckage of a person

You ruined me

Tore my tender heart in two

Incarcerated my love

But,

To lose you would hurt more than to love you

What a double edged sword.

 

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone 

Love

We are brought to believe that love is an emotion we feel 

But to really experience true love, you must be shown that it is real 

 

Love is held in the heart but you can't hold it in your hand 

And it only takes someone to use their actions for you to truly understand 

 

Love is shown through caring for each other, when their smile becomes your everything 

Love doesn't discriminate, love is an uncontrollable thing 

 

The love between people is tight and strong

Love can make you feel at home, love can make you belong 

 

Love doesn't have to come in big gestures sometimes the small things are enough 

Just being there for someone can show them your love 

 

Love is an important part of life, it makes up the rest of our emotion

Love is the base of our feelings it creates our personality and devotions 

 

Love doesn't cost anything and is easy to show 

So go and make someone's heart glow.

 

Children's Mental Health Week - February 2023

pls children s mental health week 6th 12th february.pdf

Cost of living crisis poem - December 2022

The Poet Laureates have written poetry reflecting on the cost of living crisis that we are all living through. They have gone down very different paths with this theme. Lilia has written about hope, Pam has written an angry but realistic poem and Caelyn has written a particularly powerful poem which explores worry through an extended metaphor of parenthood. 

 

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

Hope

It's like a shadow, always with you 

It's as beautiful as a butterfly 

It's like a flower blooming in the spring 

It’s as eternal as love 

 

It's the one fresh apple that falls from the tree when growth seemed impossible 

It’s when the sun shines down when the sky was full of clouds

It’s the the one candle that always flickers on even in the darkest of times

It’s the the constant light at the end of the long, dark tunnel 

 

It glides elegantly into actions, words and choices 

It paints a smile on people’s faces 

It tiptoes softly to our hearts

It comforts us in times of doubt and darkness

 

It’s the peace in the war 

It's the life in death 

It's the good in evil 

It's the family in outsiders 

 

It is the thing that inspires us to carry on.

It never gives up on us, so do not give up on it. 

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai

Cost of Living Crisis - Cry Out

Seldom trips out.

If you're hungry, sleep it off.

Slowly crumbling society.

Inching slowly towards homelessness.

Rent can’t be paid.

Christmas might not even happen. 

“Go round Nana’s while I sort out bills”.

Nooks and cranny choked with mould.

Inventing reasons to keep the heating off.

Very stressful.

Intelligence doesn't pay for gas.

“Lower the lights and lower the bills”.

Food banks keep my stomach full.

Oh the misery.

Treats are a rare occurrence. 

Soup for tea again.

Overpriced carrots for God's sake

Can’t cook. No gas.

 

KS5 Poet Laureate - Caelyn Walshe

Spitting Image

Restless. Another restless night has passed. 

Success of an hours rest seems far from grip as the screaming

Of the child suckling from your hip

Bursts in your ears, surrounding your once peaceful 

Nocturne with a massacre of beaten down backs.

Tears well in your eyes as you watch the life behind you pass miles

Over rivers, the telephone rings with friends and their wishes

However the dials don’t call more than once. 

 

Again. Again. Again

The child calls for your hold in roars like gruesome hunger 

Whilst you lay on your back in a pool of your spoiled covers 

And dread the next day as it comes without an hour fit for slumber. 

Again, it happened again. 

 

Another hourglass bled clean of it’s sand as you clutch the 

Baby in both your hands. Another day has passed. 

Another day further from the life before this. 

Another day closer to the replenished hourglass. 

 

Wiping the streams from their fragile face,

They ignite a smile, finally, a fate diverse from shuddering screaming. 

You look at the child once more. 

Now a babe you can hold no more. 

Their starlit eyes and tilted tooth smile had never struck you this deeply before,

But now you look down to the child who took your nights away

And jolt in horror to find your eyes are now the same way. 

 

Again. Again. Again.

Another year has passed… already?

It seemed like last night you were burning my sleep, ruining my days and burdening my week. 

As I flick your collar outwards, the way I did before. 

I stare into your starlit eyes, the same eyes that cried before. 

I wish I had gripped those days before they scurried so soon,

You were once my little baby, cuddled up inside my arms. 

The screaming seems a small price to pay

To watch my baby drift peacefully into slumber within my arms. 

Now you’re all grown up. Now the world must face you. 

Those nights I spent sad for my past were worth the sleepless nights with you. 

Now you’re all grown up. I can barely fit you in my arms for one last hug. 

Those nights are now my jewellery. I wish i could say i loved everyday,

However we both know that wasn’t true. But to see you here, 

Tall, strapping and strong, I promise to you that I would never change 

Any of the darkness. Even if it was to hold you one last time. 

Reflection

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

Term 1,

I take my first steps through the school gates,

To see all the teachers each with a smile on their face.

New friends to make round every turn,

Knowledge waiting in classrooms ready to be learned.

 

Term 2,

Getting to grips with the way of the school,

Remembering all the new rules.

First assessment week with Christmas in sight,

People working hard, ready to write.



Term 3,

It feels like we’ve been here forever,

Sitting in our chairs happier than ever.

Everything has now settled down,

We know the school site - in and around.

 

Term 4,

Over half way with Easter at the end,

Pushing through the term, laughing with our friends.

Learning lots of new things,

As the first flowers show spreading signs of spring.

 

Term 5,

Revision, revision, revision- end of year test.

Everyone is working hard trying their best.

Preparing for term 6 when they start,

English, Maths, Drama and Art.

 

Term 6,

Nearing the end coming to the summer holidays,

Last few weeks counting down the days.

Awards evening people congratulated,

The end of school everyone elated.

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Lois Knight

When you look at yourself in a mirror

What do you see?

Do you see you,

or a stranger looking back at you?

When you look at yourself in the mirror

Do you feel strong or weak?

When you look at yourself in the mirror

are you yourself, and do you love you?

When you look at yourself in the mirror

Who are you? Why are you here?

Yet the answer is near,

You’re strong and powerful,

Brave and kind,

Loving and most importantly,

Uniquely you.

So please love yourself,

And step away from that mirror.

 

KS5 Poet Laureate - Caelyn Walshe

BMI

Seventeen years staring at a photoshop 

Canvas plastered into the mirror of the women online I've seen. 

Gapped thighs, tight waists, small nose, flat stomach and smooth skin,

Even though the images on television and the stories on social media 

We're nothing more than a circus of face paint and digital scrubbing. 

The standard was set. One that we have all, both women and men, falling far from clean. 

 

Scrolling down the page, you can only see the

Photos and videos of heavily produced lies,

The hours of filming. The days of editing. The hours of makeup. The money on photoshop. 

I start each day with my bare feet cold on scales, looking past myself to see the numbers, not who I would be within. 

The scales would flicker both up and down. Each day i spend my mornings finding an outfit which masks my belly

I wish somebody had told me when i was younger that all bodies aren’t the same,

Flash girl models riding on beauty magazines

Were the product of cryogenic morphing through pixel syringes. 

Each day i walk two hours to school then two hours home to try to lose those extra pounds,

Each evening I spent counting my diet and chasing the calories away. 

 

Fifty-six pounds is what I have lost since feeling the consciousness of my natural body

Wrap around my patterns in waking and slumbering life. 

The change was great to those who noticed. 

However, my tummy still pushes against my fabrics,

My nose is still hooked and my eyes are still hung heavy in the purple

Enemies of my early attempts to lose such shape. 

Fifty-six pounds may have gone but as a seventeen year old girl, why am I ashamed of my body?

 

Old men in bodily corporations cashing in on body issues,

Cashing in on girls like me.

When we hold ourselves to such standards, who will we really be?

Little girls need to look at the doctors.

The astronauts, judges and queen

Disney did not let the princess be a girl like you or me

And barbie never wanted anything other than a diamond ring

From a golden guy who lives in Hollywood

So she could be his lovey dove slave.

Ken never ever loved barbie,

He loved the plastic desperate look.

 

So why can they control our dreams?

 

 What you don’t see behind the posts

Those wicked tricks and lighting hoaxes. 

Those girls online spend hours a time

Plumping and powdering their cheeks,

Their outfits cost more than the meals they endure

Living off mummy and daddy for rent. 

Tucking their tummies into their corsets or starving themselves until dry.

 

I never thought that I was much like Barbie. She was not a girl like me.

I’m seventeen studying science, not seventeen hours from surgery. 

Never really wanted Ken and he would never want a girl like me.

A girl who knows the difference between the body and the brain. 

Ken only ever loved Barbie for the blonde curls in her hair. Ken never really loved Barbie.

But we could never be Barbie. We’re far too human for that. 

 

You live naturally and as you wish to be. 

My body is mine to change or remain or seventeen years I have felt ugly wriggling in my own skin,

Only we can decide when we are happy. 

Your body is yours and yours only to frame. 

 

Because sweetheart, let me tell you. 

No two bodies look the same.

Remembrance Day 2022 

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

Respect the Mission

The sodden trenches soldiers had to stay in, 

With the uneven beds the men had to lay in. 

The endless overflow of mud, 

And stretchers stack up, stained with blood. 

These weren't living conditions,

When they were tired and hungry after their missions. 

 

The fields were stained with the horrors of war,

After years of hardly living we realise we want something more.

The grass colourless and barely growing, 

The only sign of life was soldiers groaning.

The deep footprints engraved in the mud, 

From the heavy boots that came down with a thud. 

 

The horrors you faced were unexplainable.

The fear that you faced was uncontrollable.

The comforts that were crossed, 

And all the lives that were lost. 

Are now all reflected ,

And each man is respected.

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Pam Ejemai 

Blood Red Poppies

Aching heroes

Trudging through the thick sludge of the battleground 

Eating tins and guns clatter alike

The metal of something so harmless

So innocent 

Clashing with a bang against the metal that makes a death 

a device

Heavy boots under the cover of nightfall

Slink past departed companions and artillery craters

In the deep muck that was once an enchanting field 

The poetry of pouring out their agony filled souls into literature 

A smattering of them procured recognition

Gas filled lungs, frothing at the mouth like rabid dogs

Drowning in a putrid viridescent sea

We look upon documentation of soldiers drunk with fatigue 

Frontmen limping back from war to the comfort of rum behind the barriers

If to be regarded highly is a privilege to be earned

Indefinitely, the resting souls of fallen heroes deserve the bulk.

 

KS5 Poet Laureate: Caelyn Walshe

You are home:

We remember the day you left,

Pride of a nation bundled in your chest and 

The weight of a thousand cheering souls hanging off your shoulders.

We remember the day you left, 

The ambitious fear of failure looming colder 

On your skin. 

 

We remember the day your letter arrived, 

The seal was soft and the smudged ink dried.

Our mother's face felt heavy in mourning heat, 

And our father’s eyes dreaded the nauseous defeat.

But no. You were strong, you were brave, 

You would revive our country; we were yours to save. 

 

We meet again. I stand above the sweating soil, icy water

Seeping into my shoes whilst my eyes are fixed on your cobblestone bed,

The blood on your blazer only drenching your flesh in 

Desire to defend what you love. To defend our country.

We remember.

We remember you. We salute you. We admire you.

Your fatal imprisonment sold us freedom. 

You are gone, but always present. 

You are safe.

You are home.

Original and Longer Version

We remember the day you left,

Pride of a nation bundled in your chest and 

The weight of a thousand cheering souls hanging off your shoulders.

We remember the day you left, 

The ambitious fear of failure looming colder 

On your skin. 

 

I remember straightening your uniform, feeling 

The splintering threads run through my fingertips.

Before i held your hand, my only thoughts were stealing 

You back from your intentions. From your fate. 

All you did was laugh and whine,

That pearly heart thundered and shined,

Your passion sung louder than any word.

Your resilience dug deeper than any silver piece.

 

The moment you left, I pulled the memories from my mind,

Seeing my little brother safe and young again,

Held in my arms no danger no fright, 

I thought I could defend you for all.

Your eyes let no single tear fall

You saw not a gruesome sight. 

 

We remember the day your letter arrived, 

The seal was soft and the smudged ink dried.

Our mother's face felt heavy in mourning heat, 

And our fathers eyes dreaded the nauseous defeat.

But no. You were strong, you were brave, 

You would revive our country; we were yours to save. 

 

You stood strong with lightning in your head,

Blazing ashes of scarlet and grey hurtled towards you,

Nightmares crawling on their hands and knees to

Your freezing person. 

But you stayed strong, your back to the open trench,

The frost only seemed to worsen. 

The stability of your courage remained firm and clenched.

Your thoughts of home cut through your heart 

As your eyes met ours in that crumpled picture mother gave you. 

Fear? Panic? Flight? Nothing more than the end of your lead barrel.

Fragility? Patience? Fatigue? You had all. You had a sterile 

Optimism. Rain thrashed against your frostbitten skin 

And failing thoughts began to creep in.

But you stood strong. Brother

 

We meet again. I stand above the sweating soil, icy water

Seeping into my shoes whilst my eyes are fixed on your cobblestone bed,

I use a new cloth to nurse your bruising 

Yet My fingers only trace the remanence of your inscription, of your presence.

The blood on your blazer only drenching your flesh in 

Desire to defend what you love. To defend our country.

We remember.

We remember you. We salute you. We admire you.

Your fatal imprisonment sold us freedom. 

You are gone, but always present. 

You are safe.

You are home.

Happy National Poetry Day - 6th October 2022

What a perfect day to announce that Pam Ejemai (Year 9) is taking the role as Deputy Poet Laureate. Pam will be stepping up to the role as Caelyn and Lois focus on their studies in this very important year for them both. Do not fear though! They will still be penning poetry, just not as frequently.  

I am sure you will all join me in congratulating Pam on this amazing role!

Here is her first poem:

 

Empathy

 What is empathy? 

Why is it necessary?

Empathy is putting yourself in another’s shoes,

Not because one has to but because one should.

Regardless of the circumstances

Empathy is a pathway to Knowledge

A way to unmask another's emotional damage.

But to harbour this skill, 

People who are not fit to maintain mental stability

Will suffer.

Those people dig their own graves

Shovelling others’ emotions behind to wallow in a void of selfishness.

This antagonistic deed will form a domain in the executor’s mindset,

And shatter the shielded attitude of the emphasiser.

One must not neglect their inner emotions,

Although this conflicts with the main message..

One’s well being is still significant 

And of utmost importance.

One mustn't stray from the roots of which empathy has sprouted

Waging from how to balance one's chakra is detrimental to 

The positive aura of one's morals.

So I shall ask you this again: 

What is Empathy?

Poems for Queen Elizabeth II

 KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

As a nation, we grieve for our Queen,

From her presence to her influence

And all of her colourful outfits in between.

 

For she was the colour in the sometimes darkness

Shining bright, offering light

Giving us hope and lessons in enduring starkness.

 

From 1953 to 2022,

70 years of service

Dedicated to all and you.

 

A grandmother to all of us,

The link that bound the UK family together

Distracted only when her corgis wanted a fuss.

 

Her speeches were legendary, contained lessons to be learned

She always knew the right thing to say.

In times of trouble, the tables would be turned.

 

Her royal duties to the nation were wise and fair, 

We thought she would go on forever, but 

Now we see the crown pass to her heir.

 

A brilliant life, one we can remember.

Leaving behind a trail of colour

And in our hearts the flash of an ember.

 

In death, she brought us together arm in arm

With nothing more to utter than

As Paddington once said: ‘Thank you, Ma’am’. 


KS5 Poet Laureate - Caelyn Walshe

To be That of Great Endings:

Queen Elizabeth, farewell. 

As a nation, we bid you farewell. 

The country of ours all held in such, the same way

Without our dear mother’s touch. 

The end of your era has staggered our nation to our knees. 

Both young and old, new and former, will remember you. 

Queen Elizabeth. As the lady who served us truly. 

 

You spoke with love.

Your heart in your throat as you spoke to us as a nation.

How you, dearest Elizabeth, devoted your life, no matter how short

Nor long, to ours. Our time and our nation. 

The pledge you made remains strong after all your decades. 

Sincerely, we promise it will remain long after the end. 

 

You may never predicted yourself as Queen when you, 

Darling Elizabeth, was just a small girl. However, 

You would lead our country to greatness,

And many more than that. 

We cannot imagine the fear you felt whilst stepping in sequence under golden cloth, carrying the world of our nation on your shoulders through the abbey on the third of June.1953 .

Whilst many who witnessed your coronation are no longer here to praise your efforts. 

We, the children of your nation, will never forget you, Queen Elizabeth. 

 

If you could’ve seen the world as we mourn

You today.

You could have never predicted how far our country would go. 

To mourn your company in the hearts of our homes. 

The streets were flooded with the nation's cries. 

The winds were heavy with the mourners whines. 

Lady of Our Nation, your hug to us in willow did feel as warm as they once did. 

You may be gone, but you are no less than a mother’s, cosy cuddle. 

 

May you rest well above. You’ve earned it well.

A valiant ruler. A true server. A dedicated wife. A honey-hearted mother.

The family behind you have cried beyond years to know you are gone. 

They shed, for you, so many tears.

Warm hands of your memory did stroke their cheeks

And rid them of their scarlet weeps. 

We all watched as your humble bed swept through the London streets.

We heard the mother’s cry and the father’s weep. 

Dear Lady of Ours, we miss you so. 

Rest well, our darling, you’re home sweet home. 

 

THE INTERNATIONAL YEAR OF GLASS - 2022

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

Tiny sand grains,

Which are silica crystals and rock remains.

Bunch together shoulder to shoulder,

Minute by minute getting older and older.

 

The process begins, with the sand at the start,

The heat gets added, the first part.

Slowly it gradually rises in heat,

Then the making of glass is almost complete.

 

As the liquid cools down,

It turns into glass, clear all around.

It can be moulded until it's hard,

Until it's dropped; it smashes into shards.

 

Smooth, reflective, clear and more,

Light bounces off onto the floor.

The sand from rocks eroded away,

Now glimmers brightly in the light of day.

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Lois Knight

The Year of Glass

Reflects the past and all that shines right through,

Whether that’s a goal, achievement or 

Something you found

There's a story of me and of you.

 

A story doesn't have to be told to be heard,

Nor seen in the spotlight of the moment,

But a reflection in the eyes, 

or transparency of a soul.

The year is your own component.

 

KS5 Poet Laureate - Kyle Walshe

River of a Glass Goddess

 

I know you hear my voice,

Through iron choice may be so

But my voice, to you, I know you know

Do you still watch the flowers pass?

From bloom to lush

To Perish and Dust

How about the streaming tide

 

Of my open heart you took refuge inside?

Do you see the colours of a falling man

Along the lone valley of this soul?

Your tongue as a breeze

Whilst these tender words

Ease from your chest like a cherub bird

In clearest grey.

Flying, flying, further away. 

 

The field becomes no more than the plague

I miss you, don’t leave me this way!

Now, poultry of skin crawls out the moss

With hungered beasts. Turning and tossing

In my bed, I hear your voice once more

Don’t make a sound, just lock the door.

HAPPY EARTH DAY! - 2022

Every year, Earth Day is celebrated as a reminder to protect the environment, restore damaged ecosystems and live a more sustainable life. The event was first celebrated in 1970, making this year the 52nd anniversary of annual celebrations.

The Poet Laureates have created poetry in celebration of this day and they have pretty powerful messages behind them. 

Enjoy!

 

KS3 Poet Laureate - Lilia Stone

When you look out Your window and you see the Luscious green grass 

And the flowers in the distance and the trees swaying in the wind 

Do you want to take that away? 

 

When the cars driving by are releasing harmful gases 

And plastic is scurrying around on the floor 

Is it worth it?

 

When switches can be made 

Petrol diesel to electric

Plastic in the bin

Solar instead of oil 

What is there to miss? 

 

All play your part 

Make a switch 

Or even just put your rubbish in the bin 

We all need to pull together to help our planet 

We got it into this mess 

We can get out of it. 

 

KS4 Poet Laureate - Lois Knight

We all desire a world that works

Where the suffering, hunger and hurt all disappear,

We’re seeing the changes to our earth,

Faster than ever,

It’s here now and if we don’t act 

It’ll be damaged forever.

 

We celebrate this day because

The earth is our home,

So blue and green,

Let's do our part and keep this world clean.

This Earth is full of life and passion,

Imagine what will happen if we don't take action.

 

We only get one chance,

And our earth is as fragile as glass,

So be the inspiration and save our planet,

That's all I ask.

  

KS5 Poet Laureate - Kyle Walshe 

Sincerely, Artemis:

To the people who may read this.

You walk upon my greatest masterpiece,

Without care of the shrine in which your feet may grace. 

You throw your filth and dirty waste around my blessing

Without thank but keep face 

As you scowl and mock my creation, 

This treasure I gave to you so fondly. 

 

The ground you tear your toes into is far greater than the screen

You bleach your eyes with, 

The world is much more than a new trend or so called dancer.

Glance outside the walls that keep you,

See what I have made specially for you. 

Long before your time, i spent hours among brush and oil

Making the land you see before you the unique paradise

You so gruesomely ignore it.

It is selfish to ignore such beauty.

Beauty I made for you. 

 

Trees and leaves of all the colours

Birds are tweeting, twotting and cooing

Cows are scrambling, trampling and mooing

The grass is greener outside the television screen

The flowers are hand painted, not by the photoshop or foolery,

By me. 

The dogs are barking and tossing with sticks still swinging from their lips.

The bees are buzzing and battered in their hard labours works, pollen dripping from their fuzz tips

This heaven you refuse, is here to stay. 

Heaven is here. Heaven is here. 

Look outside, feel the glory of what I have spent so long to do. 

Make this world a serendipitous home.

Just for you. 

 

Sincerely, Artemis 

Black History Month 2021

    

 

No More Separation by Lilia - KS3 Poet Laureate 

Martin Luther King JR,

Was there in the American civil war.

Fighting for the rights of those,

Who weren’t so quite adored.

 

Harriet Tubman,

Enslaved and escaped. 

Now conductor of the railroad,

Suddenly, her future was reshaped.

 

Rosa Parks,

Didn’t give up her seat on the bus.

When by law she should have,

In that moment she changed everything for us.

 

Jackie Robinson,

Stepped up to the baseball pitch.

The only black man there,

But that day something switched.

 

Langston Hughes,

A writer of the Harlem renaissance,

And a changer of the world.

Everyone together with no more separation.

 

 

Equality by Lois - KS4 Poet Laureate

Equality is a word I haven’t heard much lately,

What did I hear?

Discrimination.

 

Acceptance is something we all need;

Whether we know it or not.

But we continue to make judgments on people.

Whether we say it aloud,

Keep it inside,

Or show it on our faces.

 

But the question is why do we continue to do it?

Demean, tear-down, humiliate.

Is it down to race,

 The colour of our skin?

 

Think of the word Equality.

What does it mean to you?

To me,

Equality means acceptance, justice and love.

These words can be our reality.

We could all be equal.

But who says we can’t,

Who defines what the standard is and

Who said the colour of our skin defines us?

Who said?

 

We are all human beings

With beating hearts, strong bones and minds of our own.

It doesn’t matter what our race is,

What our gender is,

Or where we are from.

 

What matters is what we make of ourselves.

Equality begins with you.

 

 

 

Mrs. Dawn by Kyle - KS5 Poet Laureate 

 

We stare through your window with shivering lips,

Steaming your glass as we watch your finest art be staged. 

You gently ice each tasty treat, 

Knowing, and ready for our drooling teeth.

 

Your humble bakes turn our child’s heart’s sweet,

You may be clogging our veins with sugar.

But who cares? when every taste neither match nor rhyme

The batch of another each passing time. 

 

Your shop so perfect, our cradle’s paradise,

One only you can let us enter. 

Everyday we look forward to tasting your treats 

And waiting for the next flavoursome surprise. 

 

Mrs. Dawn, what would happen if all your treats. 

All your cookies, cakes and tart-baked sweets

Followed the same order?

Same folded notes from the same dusty folder.

How would your treats taste then?

 

If every morning you watch through the glass

No chirpy child eager to pass

Your doors and see your new precious art,

Heavens with thousands of flavours to try

All waiting inside for us hungry to buy

Since all those thousands of famous treats

Were no more than two or three. 

What then would happen to Mrs. Dawn?

 

If all the beauties in your shop,

Are all the same, the shelves on top

Of your counter now without a spectrum of flavours. 

Where do we go to view your once art?
Where do we spend the fruits of our labours? 

 

Each of your tastes more unique than the last.

If everyone of your pretty treasures were the same

No zip of compassion, no squeeze of devotion, no dust of admiration.

No diverse canvas for our taste buds to play.

Would your humble shop be considered home, Mrs. Dawn?

 Remembrance Day 2021

Respect the Mission by Lilia

The sodden trenches soldiers had to stay in, 

With the uneven beds the men had to lay in. 

The endless overflow of mud, 

And stretchers stack up, stained with blood. 

These weren't living conditions,

When they were tired and hungry after their missions. 

 

The fields were stained with the horrors of war,

After years of hardly living we realise we want something more.

The grass colourless and barely growing, 

The only sign of life was soldiers groaning.

The deep footprints engraved in the mud, 

From the heavy boots that came down with a thud. 

 

The horrors you faced were unexplainable.

The fear that you faced was uncontrollable.

The comforts that were crossed, 

And all the lives that were lost. 

Are now all reflected ,

And each man is respected.

 

Remembrance Day by Lois K

I do not know your name,

Nor for which battle you died.

I do not know your home,

Nor the tears that were cried.

 

I do not know where you rest,

Nor the promises broken.

I do not know your uniform

And your fears lay unspoken.

 

But, I know your spirit exists,

That your courage is admired,

 And your sacrifice is honoured

By each soul that's inspired.

 

And I offer you from my heart

Thank you, to guardians unknown

For offering yourselves for us all

That we may keep freedom...

Our home

 

 

You are Home by Kyle (KS5 Poet Laureate)

We remember the day you left,

Pride of a nation bundled in your chest and 

The weight of a thousand cheering souls hanging off your shoulders.

We remember the day you left, 

The ambitious fear of failure looming colder 

On your skin. 

We remember the day your letter arrived, 

The seal was soft and the smudged ink dried.

Our mother's face felt heavy in mourning heat, 

And our father’s eyes dreaded the nauseous defeat.

But no. You were strong, you were brave, 

You would revive our country; we were yours to save. 

 

We meet again. I stand above the sweating soil, icy water

Seeping into my shoes whilst my eyes are fixed on your cobblestone bed,

The blood on your blazer only drenching your flesh in 

Desire to defend what you love. To defend our country.

We remember.

We remember you. We salute you. We admire you.

Your fatal imprisonment sold us freedom. 

You are gone, but always present. 

You are safe.

You are home.

World Kindness Day 2021

Kindness is Sweeter by Lilia (KS3 Poet Laureate)

A hi-five, a hug, a hello 

Can make the biggest difference 

When someone’s feeling low

When they’re sad, lonely or having a bad day 

Just go over to them and ask 

“Are you okay?”

 

Kindness doesn't just have to be given to someone in the dumps

Everyone will need a bit of it 

Whether you’re sad happy or in a grump 

Kindness can be given to everyone 

 

Everytime you are kind,

You will feel good. 

No matter where you are, there will always be kindness to find,

However, sometimes you're the one feeling sad .

So allow someone else, 

To stop you from feeling bad.

 

So, now all I can say,

Is when you see someone who would like some kindness, 

Don't be shy to go walk their way,

And do something to make them feel better. 

Try to do to this often and it will make you feel good as well, 

And when more people are happy it makes life that much sweeter.





The Moth at My Window by Kyle W (KS5 Poet Laureate)

The wind will blow and the rain will patter,

The ash will fall and the glass will shatter

To the touch of their furry wing on the bruised beaten window. 

 

Words still burning amongst the sky, 

Your eyes may fall blank and shoulders heavy,

Beyond the horizon only stand ghouls with white powdered eyes. 

Staring. Staring. Like the beast you keep hearing.

“Come down below and you will see

For what I plan a fate to you, from me.”

 

It will try to sink your halo.

Cage your dreams and force your song to scream. 

But No one can ever take your dreams. 

And While those teeth drip fine in shame

Tender with ignorance at the mention of its name. 

Find the light that lies within 

Those wings of cotton come singing and swooping,

Wide eyes of ebony admiring your self-motive.

Your neglect towards such perceived creatures. 

A bittersweet plague deep in disguise

 

Just a bundle of fluff you may say, 

An abstract attempt to swoon both night and day.

But the moth knows not of night and day. 

Just tunes to the words what the beast does say. 

Their shields blanket your innocence as the beast still cries. 

 

Eyes open wide, Darkness and light brought together in one

Snuggled up close in the warmth of your chest.

Those delicate eyes bring broadened smiles and jovial festivity 

As that wondrous beauty stole a bounty from the beast. 

They fuzz and nuzzle in the hope you will see

 

That Love, Kindness, Empathy, 

Silence the beast and his lurking, hungered jealousy

 

One day it’ll see.

Spread your wings and fly away

Free like pages in the wind,

Your tale is yet to be told

Your song is yet to be sung

Your heart is yet to be spoken!

We’re the authors of our lives. 

Life is yours and yours to teach. 

Flourish through your chapters.

The story is yet to begin. Your window is soon to shatter.

The sun is soon to rise.

Rise above your hatred. 

With a blessed smile, your sacred wings are soon to fly.

Remembrance Day 2020

Remembrance Sunday by Kyle 

We remember the day you left,

Pride of a nation bundled in your chest and 

The weight of a thousand cheering souls hanging off your shoulders.

We remember the day you left, 

The ambitious fear of failure looming colder 

On your skin. 

 

I remember straightening your uniform, feeling 

The splintering threads run through my fingertips.

Before I held your hand, my only thoughts were stealing 

You back from your intentions. From your fate. 

All you did was laugh and whine,

That pearly heart thundered and shined,

Your passion sung louder than any word.

Your resilience dug deeper than any silver piece.

 

The moment you left, I pulled the memories from my mind,

Seeing my little brother safe and young again,

Held in my arms no danger no fright, 

I thought I could defend you for all.

Your eyes let no single tear fall

You saw not a gruesome sight. 

 

We remember the day your letter arrived, 

The seal was soft and the smudged ink dried.

Our mother's face felt heavy in mourning heat, 

And our father’s eyes dreaded the nauseous defeat.

But no. You were strong, you were brave, 

You would revive our country; we were yours to save. 

 

You stood strong with lightning in your head,

Blazing ashes of scarlet and grey hurtled towards you,

Nightmares crawling on their hands and knees to

Your freezing person. 

But you stayed strong, your back to the open trench,

The frost only seemed to worsen. 

The stability of your courage remained firm and clenched.

Your thoughts of home cut through your heart 

As your eyes met ours in that crumpled picture mother gave you. 

Fear? Panic? Flight? Nothing more than the end of your lead barrel.

Fragility? Patience? Fatigue? You had it all. You had a sterile 

Optimism. Rain thrashed against your frostbitten skin 

And failing thoughts began to creep in.

But you stood strong. Brother

 

We meet again. I stand above the sweating soil, icy water

Seeping into my shoes whilst my eyes are fixed on your cobblestone bed,

I use a new cloth to nurse your bruising 

Yet My fingers only trace the remnants of your inscription, of your presence.

The blood on your blazer only drenching your flesh in

Desire to defend what you love. To defend our country.

We remember.

We remember you. We salute you. We admire you.

Your fatal imprisonment sold us freedom. 

You are gone, but always present. 

You are safe.

You are home.

 

 

Remembrance Sunday by Lois

I do not know your name,

Nor for which battle you died.

I do not know your home,

Nor the tears that were cried.

 

I do not know where you rest,

Nor the promises broken.

I do not know your uniform

And your fears lay unspoken.

 

But, I know your spirit exists,

That your courage is admired,

 And your sacrifice is honoured

By each soul that's inspired.

 

And I offer you from my heart

Thank you, to guardians unknown

For offering yourselves for us all

That we may keep freedom...

Our home.

 

 

The Kaleidoscope by Kyle

The stitches still seemed fresh, 

The event still seemed vague, 

The bed still seemed cold and 

The recovery still seemed hollow. 

 

Casting my eyes out the open window, a hushing 

Breeze bandaged my skin,

Like a sombre blanket covering 

The past, soon my future, in the present back within.

 

Through the window bloomed charming caterwauling, 

Flourishing in silk woven amber

Laced to the swooning sleeves of a single sapling

And christened by chirping children, who lumber

 

Across each fragile philosophy,

Differences divide, no queen nor pawn.

The bishops lost his corny crown, now tumbling in joyous catastrophe

Every piece grins, right and wrong no longer torn.

 

And the knights chanting with all his friends 

of fiery colours he hopes never to end.

And The king cheers for celebration

Wishing this to be his coronation.

And the rook is launching flamboyant shrubs

Whistling in pride for gorgeous cherubs. 

 

Every soul merged to one, 

No less. No more. No rich. No poor.

Sparkling ambience sung alive and done. 

Creating harmony, creating an addictive paradise, a state of awe. 

 

As I stare out my hospital window, I feel no pain.

No stainless stitches, no hollow brain.

A smile wakes my heart and I no longer hear

The torturous pulse of my medical gear. 

 

So embrace this cosy season. Let it be said,

That today we live, and tomorrow we dread. 

 

 

 

Autumn by Lois  

Every leaf speaks to me, 

Fluttering from the autumn tree, 

I’m but an autumn leaf upon the ground

A repent of all summer’s past, 

The ember sun above me shines

To warm me on my bed of grass;

My golden skin, 

Now paper thin, 

Moves in rhythm with the wind, 

And though I have no place to call home, 

I still belong to where seasons roam, 

Be it summer, winter, spring or fall, 

Regardless of time of day, 

Oh how I dance amongst a sea of souls, 

Unafraid of change that comes my way, 

And though the years may differ each time around, 

I will forever be an autumn leaf upon the ground.  

 

 

 

Turing - 2021

Lois (KS3 Poet Laureate) 

 'It is the people no one can imagine anything of

who do the things no one can imagine.'

Turing was a genius and Turing was a hero

But if I'm neither one, it does not make me zero

Alan Turing's pardon comes 60 years too late

Our country showed him no love then, just hate

By branding him a criminal, they sealed his fate

So excuse me if I choose not to celebrate

 

No mercy for a World War Two peacekeeper

Computer pioneer and top-secret code breaker

All this overshadowed by his sexuality

In 1952 he was convicted for homosexuality 

 

Kyle (KS4 Poet Laureate)

To fit the Times:
To fit the times we roll the dice, 

We cuff our sleeves, folded collars on shirts

Entering the gates through the cleanest dirts 

Of a saturated education yet we scatter like mice. 

 

To fit the times, there is a change,

Not the cuffs on our sleeves, not the ivory 

Collars on our shirts. We have no added glory,

No added shame, just the change of a name

Not the bricks or building, the titled frame. 

 

To fit the times, we welcome Turing,

No change to the cuffs on our sleeves or

The collars on our shirts, the ties on our necks or the lessons we bore. 

The change of a name, no support in 

Our future aspirations, just tilted italics in lavish appreciation.

 

To fit the times, we still roll the dice,

We still cuff our sleeves, we still collar our shirts.

We still enter the gates with swarming swirling serpents in the dirt.

Snipping and snapping our ankles, and still we run like mice.

 

    

 

 

World Poetry Day - 2021

On Sunday 21st March it was World Poetry Day. For this, the Poet Laureates were given the freedom of topic to write their poetry. This is what they have produced:

KS3 Poet Laureate: Lois K

What if?

What if one little thing changes us?

Will we still be ourselves?

Will we know who we are then?

 

What if everything changes?

Will we be where we are now?

If everything changes, 

What will we do?

 

What if things change 

And we don’t know what to do?

Will I be okay?

 

What if?

 

Lies.

 

You can say,

All your lies

But what you don’t know,

Is that you put on a poor disguise. 

 

Your lies and promises are paper thin,

Easily broken like glass.

You think im easily deceived

But what you don’t know 

Is that you put on a poor disguise.

 

You can say all your lies

But you have no idea

I despise them.

 

You think I’m a dog,

A little kid,

Easily tricked,

By your sweet words.

 

When will you finally see

That I know your real intentions.

 

You can say

All your lies

But what you don’t know,

Is that you put on a poor disguise. 

When will you finally see?





KS4 Poet Laureate: Kyle 

Mar:

Breathe in, and out. 

In. out. In. out. In. out, 

The silence quakes, a shattering perception of relaxation,

Bludgeoning silence. Sour vexation.

The whaling of the lost, the pulverised desires.

 

The betrayal is around us.

Do not breathe in or out.

Don’t sin, don’t shout.

Less within, More without

 

Mercy, she slashed and she yielded

From the bleed of another crop of another harvest.

Sneezing out the cut-throat lies of admirable alternatives,

No sedative to alleviate the mass destruction.

From the concrete in our heads. No graceful paradigm. 

The smoke that licks at our lungs and cautiously poisons

Our morals and our reasons,

To keep on going. 


Relax, there's no need to be sombre

Replay the memories you wish to remember

Relapse the nightmares you wish to forget

Reload your winning smile, and shoot them dead.

 

The tongue of Vexation trickles down your spine, 

Take another deep breath and seize to target

Your solidarity,

The feeling of being lost is yet to Perish, 

So much is yet to decay inside it’s decor. 

Stare deep in the soul and cry out the moral

Turmoil. 

 

Take another deep breath.

Breathe. 

In and out.

Breathe in. Just breathe in.

Stay calm, you are braver than you believe.   

 

Breathe out.

 

Lockdown - 2021

Lois K - KS3 Poet Laureate 

Our Life Now

Our life was normal, just like every other day

Until coronavirus arrived, it had planned to stay

On 26th March the government finally took stock,

As lockdown was announced, at 8 o'clock,

Stay at home and isolate was their simple request,

And listen to guidelines as they know what’s best,

And get angry with those who still go out instead,

And Friday nights are spent indoors, on video calling apps,

We are all going crazy at the sound of dripping taps,

But the NHS staff continue, their work is so admired,

Working long shifts, saving lives, even those who had once retired

We should get out while we still can, enjoy our daily walk,

Call family often, with no reason, just to talk,

Some of us are falling out with siblings, Dads, and Mothers

 

Some of us like to shout about, finding ways to annoy each other

 

Although these times are really tough, we must stay positive and excited,

As in the distant future, we’ll all be reunited.

 

Kyle W - KS4 Poet Laureate 

Diamonds

The Mirror before you is clearer then potential brilliance
You get up from bed 

Hung high is resilience,

All that stares back is Pessimism and Lack of want draining your head. 

The mirror only stares back, tired eyes whispering further neglect, 

With the vanishing confidence, you fail to detect

How your misfortunes will become your currency. 

 

We are buried beneath this molten structure, burning

And twisting through educational pressures, through mental screams,

Through an understanding, yearning 

The answers. The heat holstering hard brandishes and whips, chipping away at our being. 

Yet throughout this seemingly stone coffin we sleep, 

Our smiling flesh dug up shimmering and clear. 

As clear as your potential brilliance. As clear as the future you are soon to meet. 

 

The end is near. Not when? Not now, but soon, we shall. 

And as the shadow will leave your eyes, 

Nothing but light will bathe you, now closer to the demise

Of this imprisonment,

Wings will slap the ash from your shoulders, straighten your collar and hold your head. 

It is over, the wicked restraints fall silent, now dead. 

Throughout the binding bereavement you have endured, your soul has changed,

Has compressed, has cleansed, has erupted in flares of flashing lights, your fear caved. 

The mirror may be clear, yet your reflection stares blinding into your challenges. 

For you have undergone this troublesome turmoil. 

Your battered fists could take on the world,

 

Quarantine diamonds, your compression of normality, 

Shall bring brevity

to your journey for success. This catastrophic mania we are placed

Shall be the blueprints to your grace.

Diamond stay shining, your worth is not known to you,

But the world values your existence and shall sacrifice many only for you,

You’ll take this time and churn it to dust, into nothing but tears of two.

Because Little Diamond, your destiny is glistening for you.

 

Christmas - 2020

 

Lois (KS3 Poet Laureate) 

Let Christmas

Coming up to Christmas time

Buying for the family is a hard time

Coronavirus has slowed us down

And our spirits buried in the ground

This time of year things should be resurrected

For Jesus Christ was born

 

Don't let Christmas be a time to be stressed

Don't let Christmas be a time to overspend

Don't let Christmas be a time of no rest

Don't let Christmas be a time to ignore good friends

 

Let Christmas be a joyous time

Let Christmas be a relaxing and happy holiday

Let Christmas be sharing in these times

Let Christmas be an amazing day





Kyle (KS4 Poet Laureate) 

I hope you still know that I love you:

Another year has passed, another year without you.

I continue to bribe my soul to go back for a final goodbye, 

A final hug by the homely fireplace, a final smile from your aging lips. 

A final dose of your wisdom, a final donation of your finest knowledge. 

I don’t want immoderate plasters, i don’t want silver chains, I don’t want lies 

Or childish make believe. 

I don’t want materialistic tricks under that phony shrub. There’s a single

Scribble on my list. The list I left by the dusty fireplace. 

 

Winter pounces on my cheeks as i drag my feet through fresh fallen flakes,

The coat you gave me still hanging at me shins, 

I smell the sweet perfume of burning fruit cakes 

From the neighbours you never liked, and think of all the fun we’d have,

The purest grins.

Each once lumbered branch now heavy in gentle

Woven silk, swept through copious servings of frost-bitten betrails.

No life. No wonder. Yet to the corner of my eye i see a little 

Feathered fool shivering at the edge of his branch with a pouted 

Red breast and black beady eyes fixated on the fool in the long coat. 

Your voice crosses my mind, your eyes in his. 

 

I feel your hand touch my shoulder, it was like you were still here. 

It was like you hadn’t been stolen. It was like you still had life.

He stares at me, I know you’re there. I know you’re here. 

I know you’re gone, But love can never die. 

The breeze seems to snatch my breath and my lips tremble with ache,

I called out for you, and the robin flourished in the boutique. 

I can't help but smile at tribute. I know you’re far from the snow fall.

But your love will never leave. 

I stare to the sky and I scream at the tips of my lungs, why were you stolen? Why weren’t you here? 

Another year has passed. Another year without you. Another year 

That I hope you still know that I love you. 

Another year where I watch your wings shiver through the window and 

Hold the purest grin. I know you’re there. And this Christmas, 

I left my list by the homely fireplace, in smudged ink spoke:

I hope you still know that I love you. 

Homework / Prep

Term Dates

Enrichment

Performing Arts

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