Get Writing NZ!

We participated in School Kit's 'Get Writing,'

Our writing was all about using figurative language to paint a picture in the reader's mind. We came up with descriptive similes and metaphors to describe our class and ourselves!  We based our poetry on the Iain Sharp poem.

We wrote to Oteha Valley School in the North Island and they wrote to us.

Here is a picture of their postcard writing put together. 
Underneath the photograph are some of our metaphor poems!

Clara is the tangerine sunrise, spreading over a slice of bread.

Clara is Luna Lovegood, stroking a thestral with honour.

Clara is a paintbrush, paint and canvas; creating a river flowing into a quick tempered ocean.

Whenever my partly cloudy eyes venture into water, I see my reflection, I shed a tear that shatters the beast. I hope this isn't Clara.

Clara is a warrior, not letting her feelings spill out like a glass of water on a wooden table.

Clara is a sloth, lolling around in the not wanted sunshine.

Look there and here! A trail of blooming flowers erupts through the doors. I turn around and stare at it in awe, hoping one day to be that person.

Arjuna is small black parcel filled with deadly poisons.
Arjuna is a spy sneaking through the night.
Arjuna is a ship lost at sea.
Whenever I peep in mirrors Arjuna growls back at me. It's terrifying.
Arjuna is a prison guard watching over the prisoners.
Arjuna is 15 letters bashed out of the English alphabet.
Look there and there, books of different names fly from door to door. I catch them with joy.
They might be Arjuna. 

Hannah is an otter in the gentle sea, searching for kelp.
Hannah is wild ivy, climbing wherever it pleases.
Hannah is words, waiting to be experimented.
Whenever my dark eyes examine mirrors, Hannah slides in to greet me. It's reflection.
Hannah is a tree, standing tall even in the stormiest weather. 
Hannah is a netball, achieving higher places and going further than others.
Look there and here!
Pages flying out of every book shelf.
I run in desperation to grasp the ideas.
I cling on, being swallowed into its mist.

Brodie is a tiny little falcon peeping around the wise sky with open eyes ready to dive.
Brodie is a small office and he cowers below towering skyscrapers.
Brodie is a sock, more unique than the others and always persevering.
Brodie is a banana glued to the bunch helping up green bananas.
Brodie is a blasting Lamborghini zooming past other cars not waiting for the green light shooting out fireworks from the tailpipe, forming the word 'savage.'
Brodie is an oak branch stretching from leaf to leaf venturing for the top.
I peep in the mirror. Brodie looks back at me. It's joyful.
Brodie is a light bulb full of bright ideas twisting around swimmingly in my socket for fun.
Brodie is a waving flag crashing against the wind, gaining ultimate power in the sky.
Look there and there. Footballs rocketing into the goal.
They might be Brodie.