ANZAC LETTER


Dear family

I am sitting in this cold damp trench as i write this letter to you I just wanted to tell you I'm missing you like mad and i cant wait to see you again

I have seen many soldiers fall to the muddy ground there were mushroom clouds of fire shooting  up from the ground and florescent flashes or fire burning in the Skye

I can hear the bullets being spat into the thick mud and the blood curdling cries of the wounded people shrieking in pain I can hear the mud squelching under my feet as I walk through the deep dark trench
there are enormous explosions erupting everywhere as the soldiers charge into the squelching mud.  I can hear the spluttering coughs coming from the other trenches.

I am angry i don't know why we are here what is the point of this dumb war i am regretting signing  up for this this is not what i expected there is no hope for this stupid war its really cold over here and you never get any sleep i am so exhausted and we never get enough food i feel really really home sick and I'm sad i cant be at home with you

yours sincerely
                     JIM

autumn

                                          AUTUMN                                           

Auburn leaves slowly glide down to the autumnal carpeted earth

Unharmed leaves battle their way through the brittle air on the wise ancient oak

The goblet gold leaves submerge the jade green grass

Unreachable cherry red leaves tease me they sit at the top of the historical oak tree

Mighty oak waves its long arms through the cold air 

Naked branches stand out in the open like fire burning on snow.



by lauren

Digital Mihi

Creating a digital mihi creating a connection. (vpld) from Catriona Pene

fun fair

I stroll through the excited cluster of people walking towards the 
vibrant lights on the zig-zaging roller coaster I pause at the end of  the line as a cold wintery breeze brushes past me. My sweet candy floss dissolves into a sweet syrup as soon as it hits my tongue it looks like a fluffy pink cloud on a stick. The carnival rides     tumble, twist and flip like a supple gymnast. The loud defining music surrounds me. as i hear the faint sound of some one saying its time to go and i realise how late it is.

WALT create emotion in our writing.

As the poppies grow wild, the men we care for risk their lives fighting for our freedom. Some, under the age of 16, thought it was a chance to see the world. Many didn’t even live that long but they fell with pride, side by side. We Will Remember Them