Writer’s Club is a place for students of all ages to be imaginative and make whole new worlds with the words they use. From stirring poetry to film scripts to epic novels, our passionate writers, whilst eating their lunch, share ideas and amaze us with their creativity. Students are given opportunities to enter their writing into national competitions and, most importantly, continue to feed their love for writing in an encouraging environment.
The Army Man
Dark, starry night
Bright, warm day
The army man lay in his bunker, all day
He lay still
Thinking of what things he left behind
His parents alone
Getting his letters
Day and night
122 counted by sight
The army man still lay there
He heard gunshots in the distant air
Poem by Oscar, Grade 4, 2014
I am in battle
Bullets go flying past
My friend and I jump out of the trench
The ground is wet and muddy
I hold my lucky charm tight
We run forward
Dodging shrapnel and he fallen
“Rest in peace,” I said to myself
As I ran at the enemy
“I hope I don’t…”said my friend
“What?” I yelled
He wasn’t running with me
He was on the ground
I stood over him
He didn’t move
I didn’t care if bullets flew past
Shrapnel hit my leg
I didn’t care
My friend had gone
I knew what he has become
He became one of the fallen
Poem by Georgia, Grade 4, 2014
A swoop and dive through brown leaved bush,
Great gums so tall surround me,
The weakening breeze gives a slight push,
On fiery sands of ruby.
Excerpt from’ A Swoop and Dive’ by Rose Evans, Grade 5, 2012.
Where in a school, besides the limitless bounds of student imagination displayed in Writer’s Club, would you find garden gnomes at war using organic weaponry, evil penguins attacking peaceful atolls, or the mystery of the spoilt angry girl?
Every Tuesday our avid writers, whilst eating their lunch, thrill us with their literary prowess and inform us of such happenings as the perilous journey of a boy trying to find his lost parents, or the entertaining flight of the bumblebee, or the harrowing tale of the surfer girl who loses her confidence after a car accident.
Historical fiction, poetry, fantasy, realistic fiction, horror…any genre is tackled with simply one overarching theme- the pure love of writing.
It is ten o’clock in the morning and I am walking towards Tower Green; towards my death. I climb the scaffold steps and, heart pulsing, tie a black kerchief around my eyes then kneel at the block. But when I reach for it, I feel nothing but thin air. I grope wildly, before crying, “What shall I do? Where is it?” Someone eventually comes to my aid, guiding my hands to the block. I stretch out my arms and prepare for death. The axe rests on my neck, before being raised into the air. It falls swiftly. I am the Nine Days Queen.
Excerpt from ‘Nine Days Queen’ by Paloma Carroll-Ryan, Grade 6, 2011.