Seedpod City: We are observers of our world!

This term we've been observers. We've gone out, explored, jotted down ideas and looked at our environment. We've been noticing and recording what we actually see. We used our observations to write poetry. The language features we have been including in our writing to 'paint a picture in the reader's mind' have been activating nouns; a powerful tool to make writing more descriptive and similes - without going too over the top! We decided to use only 1 or 2 at the maximum. Read some of our amazing writing below!

Pods retaliate against the wind as they try to grasp their young.
Muscular thorns protect their growing seeds from screeching birds.
Leaves roar like hungry lions in the wind.
Thin twigs struggle to hold their young pods as storms kick against their roots.
Pods screech as the wind breaks their connections with the stem.
Brodie

Scaly brown stem sprouting green leaves like a limping tortise on the move.

Spiky balls swinging violently, shielding the little seedlings.

Wavy leaves, feathery soft, brush your face as the wind takes off.

Tiny little seeds squeal with glee as their first prongs begin to break out of their shell.

Leaves huddle together to gain warmth and shelter the stem from rain.

Thomas

Seeds dance to the sound of the whistling wind twirling and frolicking as they go.

Beautiful seeds cluster together on a stem like a seed pearl bracelet gripping tightly to my arm.

Seedlings like little snowballs tumbling to the ground.

Seeds live on a glimpse of light, just enough to grow.

Erin

A seedpod whips around in sudden wind like a medieval flail.

Soft feathery seeds burst out of their spiky shells fluttering lightly onto the ground to join their feathery friends.

Leaves shut out the air with their curly hair like bars cage prisoners.

Spikes stand their ground as roots sit heavily in their class chair.

Stems dressed in their favourite old, patched clothes.

Elijah

Orange jewels roll out of seedpods and get lost in the soil.

The fragile stems collapse over the lily pod's weight.

The seedpods steal pearls and hide them inside their glorious rooms.

Leaves mimic dying autumn grass.

Charlotte

Lily pods drooping down like crystal chandeliers hanging off a ceiling.
Orange seeds playing on a white sheet.
A lily seed pod splits open like pop corn kernels bursting out.
A white velvet coat wrapped around an orange pearl necklace.
McKenzie

Lily pod is a pickle waiting to be eaten by the seasons.

Branches gasp in the thunderous stormy wind.

Autumn leaves twirl and whirl like a ballerina in her grand performance.

Silver scales cover the seeds to act as an incubator.

Isabel

Seed cages like a woman's powder brush dusting her dull cheeks.

Layers of long white fluff poofing over grouchy, crisp leaves.

A long prickly leaf standing guard protecting his princess form the dangers of the wild.

Smells of warm gooey honey straight from a beehive.

Delicate seeds force their way to the top, ready to catch the whistling train of wind.

Maia

The wind charges off on its journey to destroy seed pods.

Storms embrace then embezzle the twigs' leaf money.

Twigs shiver as the wind shakes them like the gods walking the earth.

Seed pods salute the cold as it uppercuts each one up into the thin air.

Leaves on the twigs drop down as if they are tears crying for help.

Armand

Weeping branches like dry roses begging for water.

Seed pods execute the seeds out of the tree to swoop to the cold ground.

Seeds learning to glide like young lady birds.

The seeds depart as if a blasting passenger jet landing onto the ground.

Mitchell

Leaves plaited like a girl's black hair.

Leaves stretching to escape the stem.

The wind blows gently at the seed pods.

Seeds looking down as if they want to escape out of their shell.

Genevieve

Harakeke seedpods like a raucous flock of starlings perching on the fence, gossiping about the days events.
Seeds squeal as they plummet to the ground, departing to seek an adventure.
The seedpod smells of a summer beach where the salt has blown into its clutching fingers.
Harakeke seedlings yawn like morning glories greedily, ready to swallow the generous sun's rays as a ravenous shadow, hungrily devouring the light. 
Ashwini