It was noted that with my last piece, I was talking about pirates again. "...shades of grey from horizon to our feet" was admired; originally I had "...from horizon to horizon", but that was boring resulting in this happy improvisation.
Ours was the marsh country. We would haunt the wetlands at low tide, splashing from mound to mound. We told stories of pirates, smugglers and escaped convicts, conveniently forgetting that the river had silted up and the prison hulks scrapped years before we were born.
On days when the sun failed to make an appearance there were shades of grey from horizon to our feet.
The Bell poem from my children's piece, rewritten mostly as a sonnet:
Ring this golden bell, or maybe you won’tThe famous pie comes from someone mishearing me saying Famous Five. Semicolons are a continuing point of contention in class. In fact this poem references more things about the class than things in the story it's part of. Self-referentialism - just say no kids!
My metal heart finds it so hard to care
I will teach you things, or perhaps I won’t
Such unknown mysteries if you’ll just dare
The reason that adults cause confusion
Location of great treasure; when boys lie
Correct usage of the semicolon
The recipe to bake a famous pie
Secrets thought long buried in the graveyard
Things grown ups won't discuss in front of you
Wishes your heart keeps tightly under guard
Facts that are fiction and fiction that's true
All of this, or less, or more
Ring or not. The choice is yours.
And my favourite line by another member of the class: "I'll have your teeth for a necklace"