South Petherwin Primary School Winners
Having announced the winners of our Causley Trust Children’s Poetry Competition several weeks ago, we are now thrilled to begin sharing the winning poems with you. Inundated with talent from these young budding poets, the words they have created are inspiring and a tribute to the enduring legacy of Launceston’s beloved Charles Causley. Having already shared the brilliant winning entries from St Stephen’s Primary School (Year 4), we are now happy to share the equally brilliant winners of South Petherwin Primary School (Year 5).
Who is that child in the car
Who is that child who drives alone?
Who is that child who drives unknown
Who is that child
That doesn’t come home?
Who is that black and white, that shadow that sits in the back
And what is that thing in the front
That looks like the ying yang?
Who is that child that has no form
Who is that child
That you see at night?
Who is that child that dies and comes back
But the real name of the child is
The last one you’ll see.
Beware of my prickly spikes
If you want I’ll take to your likes
I shuffle around the ground,
My nose is black and round.
I’ll eat any food,
Though I’ll never be rude,
I’ll curl up in a prickly ball
And I will definitely look pretty cool.
I start to roll around
My spines on the ground
Down, down the hill I go
Until I reach a house, so.
A man comes out
And will, no doubt…
He writes a poem about me.
He’s very nice but who is he?
He gives me some meat,
And taps to the beat,
I swam in the river nearby
The water was cold but why?
I shuffled into the hedge
While water washed up a ledge
The poet climbed into bed
How I love my new home where I get fed.
One day he went to war
Shutting and locking his door,
I’ve missed him quite a lot
All there was left was a tiny pot.
Three years’ time he came back home
Wearing white shaving foam,
He cuts up meat with a knife,
For once again we have a happy life.
All day I watch and stare around
From this mouldy brick mound
Nine o’clock strikes and my friends all look
At the statue of the golden book.
We will the clock on to strike midnight,
To let the moon shine it’s light,
On statues great and small,
Around the big, bare deserted mall.
When midnight strikes I spread my wings,
And then fly away to a place with good things,
1,2,3,4 o’clock strikes, but still not one statue has returned,
All those lonely years we have learned,
We can fly back or stay away,
When in the brightest day,
For all the young silly people care
We could stay down away in our lair
But still the people get meaner,
We just get leaner
We can’t wait for the day we shall be boxed away.
Away from Eagle House,
Away from the Eagle House and the brick eating mouse
Away, away I wish it were today!
Yours Truly, Stone Eagle
Causley Commendation Prize
Why do we have to read and write and walk and talk?
Why oh why I wonder I wonder.
Why do we have to fly?
And why do we have to grow wings?
Who do we have to ride unicorns?
And why do we have to breathe fire and turn things to ice?
Why do we have to see ghosts and turn into bats?
Why do we have to live on clouds?
And play on the moon and light up the stars?
Why do we go to school not on land but up on mars?
And why do we have dragons as pets and fly around in jets.
Why do we have to learn to control the weather?
Why do we have to walk through doors?
And climb up walls and jump from roof to roof?
Please tell me why
As why is the poems name