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  Creative Writing: Our favourites

Forest fire

By Ellie C, 6-7, Belthorn, Lancs., UK

On Friday there was a flier
About a forest fire
And it started to spread
Through the forest and flames
Spreading everywhere
It rose higher and higher
And a house was full of flames
Fire engines came to the forest
They all ran away and everyone was scared
Because it puffed out of the forest
And into the city
People were in bed
They woke up and ran, ran, ran
Some people ran so far they
Stopped at a restaurant
And had something to eat
February 2011
More Fire Poems from Belthorn

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Bart and Eftar: a modern day fable

By Nando, 9, UK

Once upon a time there was a boy god named Eftar who had hair as dark as Coke Cola. He had a big heart and understood what others could not. His house was heaven and his family were all Gods.

One day the boy god Eftar was looking into the mortal world and saw a man rebuilding his home after a war. The man's name was Bart and he wanted to use solar panels to power his home. But the brothers who were helping him only laughed. "No! that is the craziest idea we have ever heard! We will use regular fossil fuel like gas or oil and coal to keep us warm!" said the brothers.

The boy god Eftar wanted to help Bart. That afternoon at six o'clock after the brothers finished making the gas tank repairs, Eftar sent an earthquake to the mortal world. The gas tank rolled all the way down the hill past a rock as it crashed and broke.

Eftar then sent a magical owl to warn Bart and the message read "tell your brothers that I, Eftar, will send an earthquake when they don't listen to your idea."

Bart shared the message with the brothers. They thought it was just silly stuff and put in another gas tank. Eftar sends another earthquake waking the brothers from slumber. They watch as the gas tank rolls all the way down the hill and spatters into a million pieces.

The next morning the brothers help Bart to put in the solar panels. The moral to this modern fable is: sometimes truth needs a powerful friend.
(July 2009)

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The Ice Spell

By Freya, 7, London, UK

I've got the power to chill your spine
I've got the the power to start an avalance
I've got the power to make a blizzard
Beware of my icicle dance.

I call the snowflakes to dance along
I call the frozen winds
The icicles make my music
I cast my spell on you!
(May 2009)

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Villains of the Shadows

By Kayley, 12, Crowborough, East Sussex, UK

I wish I could live beside the sea,
Feel the wind in my dark hair,
Taste the salt on my lips,
Live life without a care.

I wish I could fly through the skies,
Grasp the world in my hands,
Wait until something went wrong,
So I could fix it once again.

I wish I could be perfect,
I wish my hair would stay straight,
I wish I could stalk around in high heels,
But I don't want to be a fake.

I wish I could just want to be me,
Be a nobody and live beside the sea,
I'd watch the sun set against the sea floor,
I'd never regret anything anymore.
(April 2009)

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By James, 8, Leeds, West Yorkshire, UK

Deep in the jungle by the windy trees,
There sat a monkey picking at his fleas,
There near the river by the muddy rock,
There slithered a snake spying a croc,
A gazelle running with frantic paws,
Trying to escape from lion's jaw,
Vultures circle, the air is still,
Looking down on a cheetah's kill,
Rhinos running with thunderous feet,
Across the land in the African heat.
(February 2009)

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Tornado Wind

By Jack, 9, Worcester England

The tornado has such a whistling sound,
Ripping through the town.
The tornado has such a strong grip,
Tearing buildings down!

The tornado is strong and almighty,
A very deadly storm.
A killing twirling tower,
And freezing, not even warm!

Streets left battered,
Torn up straight through.
Tornado desaster,
In the centre of Peru!
(November 2008)

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Raging Wind

By William, 8 , Worcester, UK

The boat rocked whilst strong wind,
Wailed through the night.
The cabin froze through the midnight wind,
Whilsst people were blown over,
From the raging wind.

The window shattered,
From the force of the powerful wind.
The wind whooshed through the
windy sea,
In the midnight waves.
(November 2008)

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Going Strong

By Siobhan, 11, Glasgow, Scotland

My name is Raya Paws, and I am 12 years old, here is the story that helped save my mum. Here is a picture of my mum before the tragedy that occurred. Actually, this was the day before she got the scan. She always had messy hair and painted her lips with crimson paint and dressed uniquely, but she was still very pretty.

She was a good mum in many ways, she worked at home, painting, welcoming me home from school, encouraging me to write. But I was still a bit angry sometimes, she was very messy and has not bothered to go out finding a dad for me, I loved her though.

I left for school after I took this photo, I thought everything was alright. When I came back I was expecting all smiles, but it was dreary and grey. Mum was crying and crying and crying, hair as messy as ever. I rushed over to her and gave her a hug, 'What's wrong, mum?'

She pushed me away, after I calmed her down she eventually said, 'Hunee, I'll always love you, but you see, life is not perfect. I went to the doctors and they found a lump under my arm and it looks bad, real bad....It's cancer!' she started crying even more and even though I never cry, I found myself weeping.

That night I twisted and turned in my bed, I was so sweaty and pale and worried. When I drifted off the nightmares of death began, the grim reaper came to visit my mum, shaking his head he said, 'Yup, Patricia's better off dead. She has to die, her pain will end.'

I grabbed on to her but he shoved me to the ground and they disappeared and I couldn't stop crying.
When I woke up I cried too.

Mum slept all night and during the day, I sat cross legged at bottom of her bed, writing my story, I refused to go to school so I forged mums writing and wrote a letter from mum saying I was going on holiday and could you please excuse her and posted it to the school (it was the only way). Mum winced in her sleep, they were giving her this medicine and some of her hair was falling out.

Every so often I stood above mum and checked her breathing, just in case. Her beautiful hair all fell out in just a week. She said it would grow back after the therapy but until then she looked... different?

Mum got more active, she would sit up in bed, greeting me and waving me off to school. But when the therapy stopped after a long time she got ill. The people wanted to whisk me off to care, but mum insisted she'd hire a nanny for me. I hated other people looking after me because I was shy. But I went along with it.

The nanny hogged the TV AND the bathroom, so I read the paper for hours on end. I liked reading film and literature sections, and I came across something that made me very excited!

Are you a born writer? CAACC (Children and Adults Cancer Charity) are looking for young writers 7-15. Writing about you or a friend with cancer. Only 2 winners will be chosen and they will sell their book in hospitals and charity shops to raise money for CAACC! Submit your story in to the address below.

I was so excited! I looked for a new exercise jotter. (I had to go back to school but I never payed attention and nicked some jotters that I could write it)I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. I decided to show Mum but I had to creep up the stairs and paused for several minutes because the new Nanny forbid me to see Mum.

I read my story out to Mum, she laughed at bits but near the end she closed her eyes and tears slowly poured down.

'Mum, What's wrong, are you in pain?!?!' I stopped reading and comforted her.

She smiled, 'I'm crying because of the story, it touched my heart, you're a born writer and you will win the contest.'

We snuggled up together in the small bed, until I drifted off, Mum's arm around me. I submitted the story and they replied back saying thank you for the manuscript, check in the newspaper to see if I won or not.

A week after I got the letter I skimmed through the paper and there was my name!

Prudence Gillen and Raya Paws have won the CAACC book award and it will be published and sold and the money made will go to CAACC!

I didn't just gasp in amazement, I jumped up and down and cheered! I realized I had probably woke mum, but that was OK. I needed to tell her!

'MUM, look, I WON! WHOOP! THE MONEY MADE WILL GO TO YOU.' I bounced up and down on Mum's bed and she beamed with happiness.

'Let's read it then.'

She gave me a big hug when she finished reading. Her thick lovely hair is nearly back. The doctors and the nurses say that she has a good chance of surviving. My book and Prudence's made $300000!!!!

Maybe, when I'm older, I'll become a writer and donate half my earn to all charities around the world, maybe even more of it. When I write my first ever best selling book I'll obviously dedicate it to the best person in the world, whose going strong even after breast cancer...My Mum, Patricia Paws!
(September 2008)

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My Stationery Has A Mind Of It's Own

By Samuel, 11, Gillingham, Kent, UK

My pencil is always walking on my paper,
Even though it doesn't have any feet,
It always leaves a different mark,
As it strolls along my sheet.

My pencil draws on my workbooks,
Because I have let it free,
But my teacher tells me off when she sees it,
And I say, 'But miss, it isn't me!'

But when I go to art class,
The art teacher Mrs Tall,
She says that I have a real gift,
But she doesn't know that it's not me at all!

There never seems much point,
In letting my felt tips out,
Because every time that I do,
They always seem to laze about.

I have never tried my ink pen,
For I know it will make a mess,
But perhaps I will try that now,
I know it's going to be the best!
(September 2008)

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By Mehvish, 12, Greater Manchester, UK

Look over your shoulder,
I'll always be there,
A silent helping hand,
A helping hand that cares.

And when you feel lonely,
When your world's feeling blue,
Look over your shoulder,
I'm there to catch you.

I store all your tears,
And wipe away the sadness,
This world's breaking up,
This depression madness.

But I'll be your angel,
The twinkle in your eye,
I'll be the arms that hold you,
When it gets too much, you cry.

And when your heart is breaking,
I'll be the super glue,
I'll be the angel on your shoulder,
The one that sticks by you.
(September 2008)

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By Sarrah, 15, Townsville, QLD, Australia

I think about it everyday,
The dreadful day we went away,
Moved across the land so far,
Six days we travelled in our dark green car.
I never wanted to move all the way here,
But to my father's happiness, my heart was near,
He longed to be near his family's side,
So I didn't complain and tried not to cry.
Still sometimes I wish we had never left.
Sometimes I wish I had made a fuss,
Maybe then we wouldn't have come this distance,
Away from friends, so many who loved us.
But as long as my father's happy here,
I just keep my old home in my heart so dear.

(August 2008)

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The Sound Collector

By Carolina, 7, Marbella, Malaga, Spain

A man walked up this morning.
Dressed all in green and red.
Put every sound into a bag
And carried them away.

The screaming of the children,
The splashing of the waves,
The flopping of the seagulls
And the people swimming away.

The singing of the mermaids,
The crashing of the sea
And the calling of my parents
both searching for me.

A man walked up this morning,
Without a word to say,
He walked up on his own
And never came again.
(July 2008)

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The Little Goblin From Far Away

By Lucy, 9, Gourock, Scotland

A long time ago, far, far away in a town called Jellyboo, lived a little goblin called Noshington Well. Noshington was only about 15cm and had a little bald head. On top, sat a green, pointed hat with a yellow band around the middle of it. He also wore a green waistcoat with a yellow belt tied around it. He also wore little green trousers which hardly fitted him. Jellyboo had lots of houses, which were made of jelly. There were a few cottages but only certain goblins lived in. Noshington was one of them. His cottage had a little green and black thatched roof with a door the size of your thumb. Even Noshington the Goblin had to duck to get inside! It had one window and a tiny chimmney. In Jellyboo you could live for as long as you wanted! Noshington was 285 years old!

One day, Noshinton remembered that he had to go to the antique shop to buy his mother a birthday present. She would be 884 on Saturday so he was going to buy her a gift.

Noshington opened up his piggy bank with a delighted smile on his face.

'Mother will love what i am going to buy her!' Noshington said.

He found £736.78 in his piggy bank, which obviously would be enough. Off he went. He walked politely down the street. About ten minutes later he had arrived at the Antique shop. The sign on the door said 'OPEN' so Noshington strode inside. At the desk stood an old goblin, just a few centimetres taller than Noshington. He had a name tag on and it read,'Mr Biggs, Assistant Manager.' Noshington looked around. There was nothing that his mother would want. Glasses, ornaments, televisions, a wishing chair, some jewellery.

'Wait a minute!' thought Noshington, 'A wishing chair. That sounds like fun. It looks nice and has a very interesting name.'

Mr. Biggs came over and said, 'Exuse me, do you need any help there? If you do I will be here.'

'Erm, how much is that wishing chair?' asked Noshington.

'The wishing chair is £697.50' replied Mr. Biggs, pointing to the label.

Noshington had enough money to buy it so he told Mr. Biggs that he would like to buy it.

Noshington woke up! It was Saturday! The big day. His mother's birthday! Noshington's mum lived in Ice Cream Valley which was 2 hours away from Jellybo. Noshington had an idea. He would sit on the magic wishing chair and wish for him and the magic wishing chair to be in Ice Cream Valley! I wish, I wish, I wish I was in Ice Cream Valley! There was a slight rumble and then as Noshington closed his eyes, he began to spin around. Noshington opened his eyes. Right enough, the chair worked. He was in Ice Cream Valley. But it was not like the last time. King Eldet was shouting through a megaphone to the whole of Ice Cream Valley. Everyone was staring at him.

'Can I have your attention please. Dragon Bones, the very wicked dragon as we all know, has stolen my crown. Anyone brave enough to get it back will be rewarded with one of my crowns with real jewels on it,' he bellowed.

Noshington could wish for Dragon Bones to bring the crown back! So he did.

'I wish, I wish, I wish that Dragon Bones will bring the crown back!' and at that very second, Dragon bones flew in to the town, blowing fire everywhere!

Noshington watched as Dragon Bones took the crown up to King Eldet and apologised to him for stealing it. EVERYONE cheered and danced and sung to celebrate because the crown was back. Noshington decided to make another wish.

'I wish, I wish, I wish mother likes the present!' Noshington stood still and wished that his wish would come true.

Suddenly he heard a voice.

It said,'You have used your 3 wishes. Now I must be gone!'

It was the chair that was speaking! Mum's birthday present! What was he going to do? Noshington thought for a while then he came up with a solution for his problem. He would tell his mother. She would understand.

So Noshington explained what had happened but mum wasn't angry with him. She understood what had happened. Noshington decided to move in with his mum and they all lived happily ever after in Ice Cream Valley.

P.S. Mum found a skateboard and that, she was happy about!!!
June 2008

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United Sunset

By Lena, 13, Ventura County, California, USA

Pastel blues and light pale pinks
Color the sky as the plane dips and sinks
Higher and higher as the buildings get smaller
Higher and higher stronger and taller

Wings spread wide with ease and grace
Masterfully flying at a quickening pace
Soar through the wind, slice through the air
Gliding so quietly without a care

Looming above the thickening clouds
Which cover the ground like an immense shroud
Up in the heavens looking down at the earth
There is no way to measure what this view is worth

Sherbet orange, crimson, and gold
Atop the horizon brave, bright, and bold
Appears at my window to say goodnight
And wish me good luck and a safe flight
May 2008

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Winter Personification

By Eloise, 10, Sawtry, UK

Rain stop crying,
You make the rest of the day miserable,
The wind is making the trees dance and wave,
The chimney tops are singing,
And the letter box is rattling,
You are so sad and unhappy,
Just go away and make the sun smile.
(February 2008)

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Chasing Dreams

By Ines, 13, Coimbra, Portugal

Are dreams meant to be real? Or are they just fake? And why do we dream? Do we dream of better situations we hoped they had occurred in our past life? Do we dream about anything too spectacular? Do we even just dream?

Dreams are mixtures, composed by different chemicals. No one can modify that mixture and if someone actually does that, well, then dreams won't be the same for a while.

I could tell you tales about passionate couples or bewitched witches who lived alone for 300 hundred years. As this is supposed to be not a regular story, but a made up story about dreams and how to catch them.

There aren't any precise tools or instruments.There aren't people specialized in catching dreams.In fact,everyone can catch a dream while they sleep,as that every time you go to bed,you dream.

There are this extremely awkward intruments called dream-catchers. You stick them to the wall and they "catch" dreams. Just something made up. Because even that you think you didn't dream of anything last night,you always dream. Sometimes you just don't remember what your dream was like.

I used to have dreams about witches and princesses. Now I dream of things of my own age: problems I'm dealing with, trips, friendship or even my school crush... When we're younger, dreams are even dreamier than on my age.

If after this story you feel bored, go to your bedroom and sleep a bit. Who knows what kind of dream you might have?(November 2007)

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The Flying Carpet

By Shikhar, 7, Liverpool, UK

One day my mum and dad had come back from the carpet shop. They had got me a carpet.
I sat on the carpet reading a book when the carpet started to move. It was a hot day so the window was open and the carpet went through it. It went higher higher into the sky. It went over the sea and landed on a island.
The island was very hot so I got some ice cream .Then I went looking for a shady spot when I tripped over something - it was half a treasure map. I picked it up and carried on looking for a shady spot. I sat under the shady spot and did my homework. When I had finished my homework I got up and went looking for the treasure.
When I found a sword on the floor I picked it up and then carried on walking. Not long after I had got the sword I found fifteen pirates. I got my sword and ran away as fast as I could. The pirates were really fat so they could not run fast and often bumped into each other. But I was not fat I was fast so I got away from the evil pirates.
Then I felt brave. I felt like I could kill all the pirates on my own. I went back to the pirates ready to kill them. I got my sword out and started fighting them. One of them tried to shoot a gun at me but I ducked in time. Then one of them got out a bow and arrow and tried to shoot it at me but he did it so quickly he did it the wrong way and killed himself.
Then one of the pirates got his sword out and started to fight me but I was to quick for him and I killed him. Then the magic carpet took me back home. (August 2007)

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Our Jabberwocky

By Year 5/6, 9-11, Stamford, Lincolnshire, UK

It was misty, and the slimy trees
Did sway and rustle in the wind:
All gloomy where the forest grows,
And the groaning rats were outraged.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Dodo bird, and shun
The furious Badger's patch!"

He took his deadly sword in hand:
Long time the evil foe he sought --
So rested he by the sticky Gum tree,
Where he stood for awhile to think.

And, as in puzzled thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of death,
Came charging through the dense wood,
And demolished as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The deadly blade went whoosh and smash!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went staggering back.

"And, have you defeated the mighty Jabberwock?
Come to me, my courageous boy!
O glorious day! Wohoo! Wohay!'
He celebrated in his amazement.

`It was misty, and the slimy trees
Did sway and rustle in the wind:
All gloomy where the forest grows,
And the groaning rats were outraged.
(June 2007)

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More Than Words

By Patricia, 14, Pasig City, Philippines

'Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don't feel I should be doing something else.'-Gloria Steinem

Each and every one of us has our own definition of writing. Others may think that writing is an expression of emotions, while another may define it as a form of art. To me, writing is my voice. A voice when I am too shy or afraid to speak. It's like the blinds' ears. Instead of seeing, the blind hears. Honestly, I am a shy person and do not open up to people who aren't my close friends. Just like the blind, writing is my alternative for speaking.

For years, people have been using writing for battling against their enemies. A lot of Filipino heroes in the Philippines were known for their ability to use words as weapons. One of the most known writers that used his writing skills in the fight for our country's freedom is Dr. Jose Rizal, our national hero. Rizal was the founder of La Liga Filipina, which aimed for the defense against all violence and injustice of the Spaniards and the application of reforms. He wrote with pride and intellect and brought the Philippines a step closer to democracy.

Another example of a writer who used his writing skills in helping other people is Graciano Lopez Jaena - The Prince Of Filipino Orators. In 1874, Jaena wrote the satire, Fray Botod. In this literary work, he exposed the greed, laziness, cruelty and lust of friars. This infuriated the Spanish authorities in Iloilo and the friars. And some realized the inhumanity of what they were doing. Rizal and Jaena practiced their freedom of expression and used their talent in writing to fight against Spanish oppression.

That's what it's all about right? Using our God given talents for the good of humanity.

Why do I love writing? Well, aside from the fact that I get heard without actually opening my mouth, I think it's fun. I know it is strange and unusual because most teens my age think writing is boring and a waste of time. But to me, it's just like talking to a friend in a creative way. It lets my imagination run wild and sets loose the real me. Somehow, it's like the things I want to happen, (even though it's impossible) come true in another world - my sometimes black and white and most times colorful imagination.

When I think of writing, I don't believe that it is purely writing and transforming feelings into words but it is about believing in anything-from talking frogs to flying houses- and making the most impossible things seem real. It is about being optimistic when you know that the sky above you is
about to fall. It is seeing beauty in each and every one of the awful things in the universe. And it is about trying new things for the sake of learning, experiencing and having fun. Writing is about looking at things from a new angle and appreciating things around us. If you think that the most pathetic object in the world is not useful, well, it contributes to a writer's mind. It gives the writers something to write about. After all, that is a writer's job - transforming seemingly insignificant and mundane things into interesting and meaningful plots and events that complete a timeless work of art. (June 2007)

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The Real Gift

By Ria, 6.7, Santacruz, Mumbai, India

I am Rajita, and typing a story that Ria Shrivastava (6.7 yrs) has written yesterday.)

It was Karan's birthday and all his friends had come.
His sister had gifted him a money plant - but Karan didn't like it much, but he said that he liked it. His mom kept the plant in a glass bowl on the tableside.

All Karan's friends gifted him toy cars and other fancy things and he was so excited to have them.

After some days of playing all cars and other toys broke - Karan started to cry. But then his mom came and told him all your fancy toys have got broken but your money plant didn't break or die - it is still fresh and alive. So, your plant will be with you now.

Thank you so much, sister, Karan said to his sister Ria.

Everyone was happy.
(June 2007)

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©2003-2011 Kids on the Net and the authors        Last revised 09-Jul-2011
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