Login
Copyright (c) 2014 by S Conditions of Use    Privacy Policy Return to Blogmeister
S -- Blogmeister

Sophie-




by S teacher: Helen R
Blog Entries
Stock cars 12/10/13
Festival day 12/10/13
Zoo poem 10/17/13
My new story chapter 1 08/08/13
Orphtopia chapter 1 06/20/13
colour poem 05/14/13
Bio poem 04/15/13
Orphtopia - Prologue 03/04/13
red/blue 02/23/12
sting ray 08/11/11
Show All
colour poem 07/06/11
the creation of Blob 07/05/11
Colour Poem 06/27/11
Colour Poem 2 06/14/11
my fish 06/02/11
dictionary 05/31/11
lions 05/31/11
spot 05/31/11
cute 05/16/11
spidar 05/13/11
hamster 05/12/11
zebra 03/30/11

Article posted December 11, 2013 at 10:32 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 334

Burning rubber and petrol fumes

Engulf the crisp rural air.



The constant chatter of the commentator

Barely heard over the rumble of the V8’s.



Excitement ripples through the crowd.



Dirt flies as metal hits the barrier and the ground vibrates



Each driver for his own

Who will win the title?

Article posted December 11, 2013 at 10:32 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 334



Article posted December 11, 2013 at 10:29 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 102

On Friday 6th we had a festival day, where we celebrated different festivals from around the world. Some of the festivals we celebrated are...The cherry blossom festival, Carnival of Venice, Uk Christmas, Harbin Ice and Snow festival, La Tomantina and The battle of the Oranges. I chose to study the battle of the oranges in Irvea, Italy and this is the history of how it came to be.

Back in the 12th century most royalty made up rules to suit what they wanted not what their people needed. in Irvea, Italy they had a duke who was indeed making up rules that were very self-centered. So a young woman chopped his head off. This is how the battle of the oranges came to be. The oranges symbolised the duke's head. The battle took place between soldiers in carts, the duke's foot soliders and the other people, the poor people who where treated unfairly. Now it is done to remember when the poor overcame oppression.

How to play? Basically sign up to get in a team and throw oranges at the other team.

Article posted December 11, 2013 at 10:29 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 102



Article posted October 18, 2013 at 12:28 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 112

Strolling around on blazing concrete.

Keepers feeding the rare and wild.

Bizare calls and loud roars.

The distinctive smell of carnivore dung,

polluting the air.

Article posted October 18, 2013 at 12:28 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 112



Article posted August 9, 2013 at 11:58 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 101

“What’s happening Nixie? I’m scared! Why are there wings coming out of my back?” Brax cried as he stretched out his shimmering black wings, which looked as though they belonged to a black eagle. He had a metre and a half long wing span.

“I don't know honey, but don't worry I will fix it,” I replied. I shouldn’t have lied but what else should I have done. I was only 14, he was only 3 and I'm not his mother. Suddenly Pipa ran through the doors at the back of the office with a big grin on her face. I wondered if she had noticed the two and a half metre long fawn wings she had, also attached to her back. You never know. “Nixie, Nixie, I have wings, I wonder if I can fly?” she exclaimed.

I presumed she had noticed them, “That’s nice honey, they are pretty,” I said. We were all sitting around the office - all five of us with our wings spread out, looking baffled. Brax was sitting on Vinnie's knee crying (poor kid), Justin and Max were sitting on the couch... the events of the day just starting to sink in and who did they all ask for answers? Me of course.

Article posted August 9, 2013 at 11:58 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 101



Article posted June 21, 2013 at 04:27 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 176

Chapter 1

Terry



The sun shone through the window, the bird song dominating the sound of flowing water as the river gushed past. The princess woke from her deep sleep. Sitting up, she wiped a strand of her ginger hair off her pale face as she flipped her feet out of the bed and slipped them into some old sandals she'd hand made from bark and tree fibres.



After a short confrontation with the bathroom, she opened an old wooden chest at the end of her bed and removed an orange dress with sequins on it. She slipped it over her undergarments (which were already on) and headed down a windy staircase to the 1st floor, where her father waited for her in the mornings.



The stairs creaked and cracked in protest as she took each step. She reached the bottom of the stairs where her father waited. He accompanied her to the dining room. He pulled out a chair made from pine wood polished with tree sap and she sat down with a thud,brushing the soft silk tablecloth. It was smooth as it brushed against her thighs to the sound of the chef frying tree shoots (and the smell was enough to send you into a hunger frenzy).

Article posted June 21, 2013 at 04:27 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 176



Article posted May 15, 2013 at 12:14 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 100

Sometimes I am purple, confused... but proud of it. Sometimes I am black, solid and lost because of it. Sometimes I am blue, floating in the sky... sad as I have no friends. Sometimes I am orange, bubbling in the centre of a volcano. Sometimes I am brown, glunky like old oil in a deep-fryer. Sometimes I am yellow, like a puppies first deposit. Sometimes I am green, like the relaxed gunge in a nasal canal.

Article posted May 15, 2013 at 12:14 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 100



Article posted April 16, 2013 at 01:43 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 98

I am awesome, cool and kind

I am the second daughter of a second daughter

I am one of two

I am like a volcano because I have many different chambers

I am caring, truthful and respectful

I love cars

I loathe Snakes

I value books… the words stretch on forever

I live on a 6 acre block

Article posted April 16, 2013 at 01:43 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 98



Article posted March 5, 2013 at 10:47 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 106

Prologue



        It was a cold day on Orphtopia, but not a good one.   A civil war had been started by the Froness clan.   Their aim was to kill the Pegasus, as the mysterious purple and black striped, transparent-winged creatures had been in Tucker Forest again, eating the Orphs only source of food, but the queen was against it; she refused to let the Froness clan wipe out the Pegasus and it was her job to stop it.


She did what she was taught to do, she took a walk to the creek to clear her head. When she arrived she sat on the edge of the bank. What could she do to keep her island peaceful? As she thought, her blue eyes glanced across the water. All she could see was her own reflection, her face pale yellow, sad that her island had betrayed her. She wiped a piece of her curly green hair behind her ear.


 She was lost in her dazed thinking when it happened. She was hit across the back of the head with a pipe! She blacked out and plunged in to the creek...


 

Article posted March 5, 2013 at 10:47 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 106



Article posted February 24, 2012 at 10:39 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 94

red 



warm blood



solid colour poppies



hot fire ice sky



bold sad ocean



cold water



blue

Article posted February 24, 2012 at 10:39 AM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 94



Article posted August 12, 2011 at 12:09 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 109

You can enter the tex


t of your blog here!

Article posted August 12, 2011 at 12:09 PM GMT+13 • comment • Reads 109



Previous Entries All Entries       All Titles
Login
Copyright (c) 2014 by S Conditions of Use    Privacy Policy Return to Blogmeister