Poet Chrissie Gittins led a poetry workshop at Perrymount primary school, Lewisham in early November. Here are some of the poems written by children in year six.
 

Journey

I’m
surrounded
by mountains
towering over
the forest; I’m chilly,
stony and bitter,
scared that my neighbour 
will be cut down.
It’s getting blurry, the snow
is a blizzard. When it clears,
I hear crunching,
then rustling. Then I hear
the machine. It whirrs into action.
I’m terrified as I feel the chainsaw
cut into me.
I split, and tip back, mount the truck and
we drive to the port.
The night sky glitters with stars, the moon
shines on my bark.
I roll and rock in the North Sea,
the salt water
splashes my needles, the engine vibrates.
Far away I can see Immingham,
it gets closer and closer.
England! Daylight!
I’m rushed down the motorway to
my final destination – Trafalgar Square.
Five hundred white lights dress me, children
and families sing carols around me.
For the twelve days of Christmas I am appreciated, joyful.
Until, I’m chopped into pieces
for mulch.
I live on in the memory of visitors –a symbol of hope and gratitude.

by Year 6, Perrymount Primary School, written with Chrissie Gittins


Possible Presents

The moment the daisy’s petals open –
the start of the calm spring.

Delicious vanilla ice cream
giving me a warm welcome to the seaside.

Birds singing in the trees
entertaining the people in the garden.

Looking at the leaves falling from the trees, telling me
it’s time the squirrels stored nuts for Christmas dinner.

The baking cake making
my tummy rumble with hunger.

The snow falling from the cold sky
telling me it is Christmas and Santa is coming.

by Amy


Possible Presents

A chameleon blending in with the trees,
walking round some leaves.

A roast turkey, with dumplings,
smelt from miles away.

A shiny ball glittering in the sky –
the sun warming you like a velvet blanket.

A tropical palm tree blocking out the sun,
and a stream floating down the hill.

When you turn your pillow and it feels very cold –
it’s sometimes better than being boiling hot.

by Filip


Possible Presents

My granny coming closer, puckering up her lips,
ready to give me a big squidgy kiss.

A robin nesting in a tree at Christmas time
for all to see.

Strawberry flavour on my lips
and the taste of indulgent melting chocolate.

The oak tree in the park, older than my aunt,
staring at me with crinkled eyes as I play and hide.

Candles shining in the dark, reminding me of my old lost aunt,
holding me in her arms and calling me her lovely charm.

by Zoe