Where I call home

Under the plum tree 

Sniper lies 

in the shadows 

Eyes riveted 

On me.

On the couch,

My family and I

Watch the pictures

On top of the deck

 the BBQ chicken smell

 drifts up my nose.

Around the neighbourhood

 random cars drive in a out of the street 

the smoke from the car makes it hard to see

Everything is a blur 

This is my home Christchurch. 

Birthday party poem

The trees outside are slow dancers that 

Sway left and right in the cold breeze,

A mist of loneliness fills the room.  

Their eyes are riveted on the cake,

With no emotion 

Lifeless. 

Candles wait to be blown out,

but will it ever happen?

The cake stays and waits to be eaten.

Why do they look so sad? 

Has someone passed away and it's their birthday? 

Why are there 3 candles?

My reflection 

I am learning to make my metaphors work. I am going well I just have started writing and using some of my bright sparks words. 

Next steps my next steps are to finish my describe map and move on to writing on my iPad. 

Artist:Harry Linley Richardson