Yesterday afternoon I went to a special poetry group with children from other classes in the school. We had to write a poem about Summer to enter into a competition. To warm up we screwed up a bit of paper and we made up a descriptive poem about what the ball might be – below is my version that I wrote in bed last night.
A small snail shell as black as can be crawled across the floor,
A cold iceberg floated across the snowy arctic,
A red cricket ball was thrown from a powerful bowler,
A canon ball shot from a cannon at extremely high speed,
A juicy red apple that has fallen from the tree onto the dewy wet grass,
A big fluffy cloud floating across the blue sky,
The world is moving as slow as a slug,
A yellow tennis ball is flying across the court at Wimbledon,
A small baby sheep lying in the lush green grass.