A little cat...

A little cat sat silently, watching the waves roll by.

She stretched her stiff limbs, and walked towards the glistening sea.

The water didn’t frighten her, as she was quite used to it.

The sand was heating up in the mid-July sun.

Her bright blue eyes blinked, as she watched seagulls squawking and fighting in the sky.

Feet pounding against the sand, she sped off, leaving a trail behind her.

She stopped running, and breathed deeply.

Ears twitching, she looked around.

Some kids were approaching her.

She fled over sand dunes, hot and glistening.

Through the long grass, that irritated her fur.

She ran along to the gravel path that connected to the car park; where cars were starting to pack into.

She jumped onto a stump of wood, and sat still.

She stayed there for a few hours before walking back to the beach.

The sun was setting, and the sun glowed pinkie-orange.

A little cat sat quietly, watching the waves roll by.

She stretched her stiff limbs, and walked towards the glistening sea.

The Country

I love the smell of fresh country air
The paddocks the cows and the gumboots I wear
The stench the smell I don’t mind the sensational smell of the country wine
The sound of rivers and streams near by
The sound of oinks coming from the pig sty
Juice runs down my chin from my home grown fruit
As my uncle drives by in his old rugged Ute
I like the mud oozing through my toes
As I rest on the hill for my afternoon doze
So as I say I love the country so natural and beautiful, in every way

By Tayla Wells & Sarah Mason

The MIS library blog

To all the literacy extention students interested in what the library is up to and new books/reviews:

The Morrinsville Intermediate library blog is now up and running, to visit this blog click on the screen picture. Please check out this site and stay tuned for more on the library blog and it's progress!

Rycher

There’s something fluffy,
On the end of my bed.
Its small white feet,
Are freakishly weird.
It purrs and meows,
A very cute sound.
And when it hides,
It can’t be found.
What can it be?
No-one will say.
Then I found out,
The very next day.
It couldn’t,
It wouldn’t;
But yes it was true,
It was Rycher,
With eyes of the deepest green and blue.

POHUTAKAWA CAVE

“Are we there yet? “ I ask mum in my most irritating voice.
She rolls her eyes and says, “Five minutes nearly.”
I sigh and go back to my book.
Hi, my name’s Debra but I definitely prefer to be called Debbie. I love animals and absolutely adore my awesome pet snake, Viper. I’m going on holiday to a place called Kawhia, which sounds pretty boring-snoring to me, the only exciting part is there’s heaps of pohutakawa, and everyone knows pohutakawa is great to climb, which I love.
As the car pulls up to an ancient blue Bach, I gaze out the window to the gorgeous green trees with bright red flowers sticking out of the massive, mossy thick branches. This is what I’ve been looking forward to for ages, POHUTAKAWA! I jump out the car and rush up to the dusty track, leading down to the black sand beaches of Kawhia. I creep down the path, as slowly as possible, making this mysterious journey last as long as I can. Questions whirr around inside my head, like angry bees in a cardboard box. “Where does this path lead to? What am I doing here? When will this freaky path end?” I wonder to myself.
I creep around the corner and my questions are solved. This freaky path leads to a brilliant black sand beach, and as I gaze around, my eyes set on an odd looking cave. It wasn’t huge but it looked unbelievably long. A pinprick of light glows at the end of the tunnel, making a weird tingle go up my spine. Suddenly a massive bird darts out of the entrance; it swoops so low over my head that I could feel the breeze blow my hair back. It darts up to a branch high in the tangle of pohutakawa. I sprint back up the path in shock, flying two steps at a time to the safety of the old blue Bach. Yikes!
The next day I wake up, jump out of bed, get changed and grab a torch faster than you can say “pohutakawa cubby”. I rush down the path fast as lightning and stop at the entrance of my new cave. I sneak in hoping with all my might that that pesky bird has gone; I creep into the darkness to have a look and flick on my torch. As I shine it around, my curiosity takes over me and I can’t help but carry on.
Each time I step, dust puffs up around me. I make my way to the speck of light in the corner, dreading what’s going to happen next. “Ouch! “I yell, and then clamp my hand to my mouth. Something sharp had poked me in my back; I turn around to see a thick pohutakawa root, hanging down from the dusty root infested ceiling, obviously the culprit of my attack. I can scent that earthy smell, mixing in with the salty fragrance of the sea outside. Noisy crickets play their early morning music, drowning out the sound of waves lapping the shore outside. As I grab a pohutakawa root to stable myself, I pull down on a huge clump of dirt which suddenly tumbles down from above making me squirm as it falls into my hair and clothes. I shake it out and keep on going. I’m almost there! I step out of the eerie darkness; bright sunlight slaps me in the face.
I peek back into the tangle of roots, leaves and branches. I stumble up the dusty track, still half in my dream. As I reach the Bach I gaze back up at the web of pohutakawa, it slowly waves back at me in the breeze, and in my mind I thank it for my adventure. I can’t wait to return to my incredible pohutakawa cave!
By Holly Williams

What is a poem?

What is a poem?
I once asked.
Somebody told me that they start with a blast.
“Hmm...How weird, I cannot say,
For that to be the actual way.”
My best friend Paula says,
“Of course THAT isn’t the way!
A poem has to be very nice,
With flowers, and a little spice.
I believed her once,
I believed her twice.
But now I know that it wasn’t right.
Then finally, my dear teacher said...
“Books away, we’ll do reading instead!”

Back arched; a flame against the night sky that flickers and dances but never goes out.

Eyes like emeralds that glint in the dark, leaving behind trails of light.

This is the norm in that shadowy world of gloomy alleyways, she rules it all with claws

unsheathed.

A flash of copper as it pounces; one quick swipe in the murky night sky and she has caught her next meal.

Beware of this nocturnal being, craftily disguised.

Purring, pleading for a pat, It might just be your favourite...

CAT!