Sunday, 26 April 2015

Owls class poem


The mist is a lonely ghost,
Translucent and cold,
It floats around and hugs you
With its long, wet arms
While kissing you on your face.
It's so quiet as it creeps around
Causing an eerie atmosphere,
When you try to escape, it hits your face
Making your cheeks bright red.
It never stops following,
Never stops staring,
Just stands there waiting.
It surrounds you; makes you feel alone.

By dawn it slowly fades away,
The sun bursts its way through
The ghosts thick white body.
It disappears until it feels the need to haunt again.



The hurricane is a falcon
Chestnut brown,
He swoops down towards his helpless prey,
It screeches as he goes.
Crashing shrilly like a cliff falling down
His razor sharp wings slice through
The auburn bricks
The building will have no hope.

But maybe in March or May
He will calm down
And come back another day.
Do you think he will?


1 comment:

  1. SG= cool words used. overall nice poem


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