“Why I Hate Beetroot“ by Karyn Dijkstra

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Why I Hate Beetroot

Beetroot’s colour hurts my eyes

That garish red I just despise

When forced to breach my reluctant lips

My stomach churns and burps and dips

It slithers and slides in a manner most foul

My body shudders – it reaches my bowel

A vegetable most surely cursed-

I have to stop, I fear the worst.

“They think that we’re too old” By Rhonda Cotsell

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They think that we’re too old
To dance or play or run
That we only moan and grumble
Or daydream in the sun

But us oldies have a secret
A thing that we don’t tell
The little child inside us
Is still alive and well

And when we get the chance
Away from prying eyes
We sneak away unnoticed
To find wings we can use to fly

So if your scooter’s muddy
Or your bike is is no longer nearby
Look around for a nearby oldie
With stardust in their eyes.

Rhonda Cotsell 

“Mrs McDilly’s Bed“ by James Aitchison

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Mrs McDilly’s Bed

Mrs McDilly looked under her bed

And discovered some terrible things.

A very old potty,

A dead mouse that was spotty,

And a box that was full of brass rings.

Mrs McDilly crawled under her bed

And there, in the big swirls of dust,

She had more adventures

And located her dentures

Hiding under an old piece of crust.


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When I reach the end of an enjoyable story

It’s like saying goodbye to a cherished old friend

The tapestry woven of the hero and villain

Has me enthralled right to the end

An accomplished author will draw you right in

So  you follow the exploits with fast beating heart

As you turn the pages you wonder anew

Will the villain become the hero,

Or will he remain true to the part

You know in your heart of hearts

That the hero will vanquish his foe

But for a few heart stopping moments

It isn’t always so

In these days of global unrest

It helps to escape for a while

It doesn’t help to always hear

Doom and gloom on the breakfast file

“Anton’s Microscopes” by Celia Berrell

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Anton’s Microscopes  

Anton van Leeuwenhoek (1632-1723)

A Dutchman named Anton

was someone you’d count on

to tell you precisely

the things he could see.

A microscope maker

and shopkeeping draper

discovering life that’s

as small as can be.

He magnified beasts that

he scraped from his teeth

and watched as they swam

like some creatures in seas.

Learning there’s animals

formed from just single-cells.

Seeing that even a

flea can have fleas!

Finding bacteria

in our interior.

Sending this news

across the sea.

Anton astounded us.

What he had found in us

started the science


What is Wind? By Charlize Fairbairn ( Year 7 )

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What is Wind?


It can be a summer breeze,

Or blow up pollen that makes me sneeze.

In the Winter it’s a gale,

That brings lots of rain and sometimes hail.


It can be a dangerous thing,

It can even cry out and sing!

I can knock over trees and destroy powerlines,

Even chime in with the birds at times.


Seems to go on forever,

When will it end, I say never!

Sometimes it’s only just a draught,

But nevertheless, still there, and will always last.

Written by Charlize Fairbairn, 12, year 7

“Hey dude, look at my hair!” by James Aitchison

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Hey dude, look at my hair!

How’s that for hair

Pointing up in the air?

It feels real svelte

Out here on the veldt!

I look so cool

Hyenas drool.

While zebras stare

At my rocker hair.

No silly old lion

Has hair like mine!

Don’t I look starry

When I’m on safari?

Africa gapes

At my hairy shapes,

They look so high-tech,

Who needs a long neck?