I recently started going to the Creative Writing Club at the school I work at. I have started writing again but I thought I needed more inspiration if I was going to keep it up. Not to mention, I want to make myself known in the English department. My aspiration is to work my way up from TA to library assistant or similar, hence why I also did Year 9 Books and Beyond, a reading challenge. I also don't want to let my Creative Writing degree go to waste.
I'm not the only TA at CWC but most of the other attendees are Year 9 or below, a big change from University where I felt like a toddler doodling with crayons while everyone wrote masterpieces. This week, as it was so sunny, we went outside to the grass bank to write about summer.
Our task was to split our page into boxes and write about the five senses in an imaginative way.
Here are some of my lines:
Sight
The sun winks off car windscreens, like light off ocean waves.
Students are scattered across the field amongst sprinklings of daises and clovers.
Touch
Sound
Children's playful cheers are carried across the valley on the wind, so carefree after the captivity of school.
Smell
The air is warm and thick, bristling with ozone, bringing with it the threat of an early storm.
Fresh cut grass infuses the air as hundreds of people decide, as if connected, to mow their scraggly lawns.
Taste
My mouth is parched and the sheer azure of the sky makes me crave the cool splash of water.
After we wrote our lines we went around and shared them, 'magpie-ing' from each other, which meant nabbing the best lines other people wrote. Lots of the students had some really unique lines; I could never have written like that at their age, so I was thoroughly impressed.
We returned to the classroom and used our lines to write a poem. I baulked at the idea as poetry really isn't my thing, but I gave it a go anyway.
From the sea
over the hills
across the moors
it ruffles the emerald leaves of trees
ripples the delicate glass of ponds
helps the young birds take their first flight
With it follows
cut grass
fresh fields
greasy burgers,
the scents of summer come early.
Warm and demanding
it forces them out of
coats
jumpers
and scarves.
It pulls at skirts
tugs at shirts.
Runs its fingers through hair,
gentle as a lover,
as constant as a mother.
The wind brings the change
yet, he himself, is constant.
Never ending,
never leaving.
I didn't think it was too bad. Next time we'll be writing them up neat to put them on display in the corridor. In conclusion, CWC was enjoyable and I'm looking forward to going again!
I'm not the only TA at CWC but most of the other attendees are Year 9 or below, a big change from University where I felt like a toddler doodling with crayons while everyone wrote masterpieces. This week, as it was so sunny, we went outside to the grass bank to write about summer.
Our task was to split our page into boxes and write about the five senses in an imaginative way.
Here are some of my lines:
Sight
The sun winks off car windscreens, like light off ocean waves.
Students are scattered across the field amongst sprinklings of daises and clovers.
Touch
The warm breeze brushes through my hair like a lovers caress.
Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, the damp of the waterlogged earth creeps through the fabric of my dress.
Sound
Children's playful cheers are carried across the valley on the wind, so carefree after the captivity of school.
Smell
The air is warm and thick, bristling with ozone, bringing with it the threat of an early storm.
Fresh cut grass infuses the air as hundreds of people decide, as if connected, to mow their scraggly lawns.
Taste
My mouth is parched and the sheer azure of the sky makes me crave the cool splash of water.
After we wrote our lines we went around and shared them, 'magpie-ing' from each other, which meant nabbing the best lines other people wrote. Lots of the students had some really unique lines; I could never have written like that at their age, so I was thoroughly impressed.
We returned to the classroom and used our lines to write a poem. I baulked at the idea as poetry really isn't my thing, but I gave it a go anyway.
From the sea
over the hills
across the moors
it ruffles the emerald leaves of trees
ripples the delicate glass of ponds
helps the young birds take their first flight
With it follows
cut grass
fresh fields
greasy burgers,
the scents of summer come early.
Warm and demanding
it forces them out of
coats
jumpers
and scarves.
It pulls at skirts
tugs at shirts.
Runs its fingers through hair,
gentle as a lover,
as constant as a mother.
The wind brings the change
yet, he himself, is constant.
Never ending,
never leaving.
I didn't think it was too bad. Next time we'll be writing them up neat to put them on display in the corridor. In conclusion, CWC was enjoyable and I'm looking forward to going again!
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