5. ANZAC Poems - Yr 6

LIFE IN THE TRENCHES

 

As part of their learning about World War 1, the Yr 6 class had a 'Trench' experience last Thursday.   They stayed in their 'Trenches' for an hour with only a piece of paper to write a letter home and an ANZAC biscuit for food.  They had sound effects of exploding bombs and guns firing.  Here are a few of their poems they wrote.

 

                                                                                     Faith, trust and bravery

My dad had all of these
He left a year ago today
I haven't seen him since
His voice still echoes in my mind
Like a lost soul roaming and haunting the streets
        Now he lies in a field where poppies symbolise death
    And dance in the breeze
                                  And where crosses are used as markers
                                Where my loved one now lies
                                                                                                                Cushla Bridges

Poppies dancing as I'm under the ground 

My sister crying cause I'm not around 

My Mum's hugging her really tight 

As they both gaze into the night 

The wind is like a wolfs call 

To the soldiers one and all 

                                                                         Zeth Rollan


 Now days at Flanders Field

Blood red poppies dance in the peaceful wind 

As if they were guardians protecting the crosses

Poppy by poppy they stand straight and tall 
Just like soldiers once did

The air smells of springtime

Like walking into a waterfall of poppies

                                                                                   Peta Katoa



In Flanders Fields our soldiers die,

Poppies grew from where they lie

We have crosses for the ones we love.

With a sign, sent a dove

The Nurses helped when soldiers were in pain

It was muddy when it rained

We will not regret the ones who fought

We will keep them in thought

                                            Corbin Fraser

 

The cold wraps around my body         

Bombs fly overhead

Rifles fire from miles around

Lifeless bodies lie in the dirt 

Their souls head up to heaven

                                                                            William Moore



LEST WE FORGET