Meet Tom and his friends

I am carrying on with my series about Tom.  In this post you will get to find out about Tom and some of the characters who will appear in later stories.

 

Alex

 

Alex is a tall, lean, dark skinned boy. He has dark brown close cropped hair. His deepest secret is that he goes to ballet class but he tells his friends he is playing rugby. In his spare time his favourite thing to do is ride his bike, he plays out in the park down the road a lot.   

 

Ben

 

Is a short, freckly, rounded child with dark eyes and hair. He always has at least one of his shirt buttons undone, he also has his shirt untucked, he wears a cheeky smirk and is always cracking jokes. It is unusual for Ben to be seen not in front of his computer or telly when he is not eating, sleeping or reluctantly in school.

 

Tom

 

Tom is a skinny and very pale boy. He is not quite as short as Ben but is nowhere near as tall as Alex. He is blond and sporty, he likes running but he prefers long distance running to sprinting. He suffers very badly from Sun Burn and used to suffer from Eczema. He has over one hundred different napkins in his napkin collection!

 

Introducing Tom

This is going to be the first blog of a series of stories about a boy named Tom and his horrible head teacher.

 

“He had forests growing out of his nose,” that was Tom’s first impression of his new head teacher.  He also noticed that Mr. Sloathington was as wide as a door, smelled distinctly of full-fat cola and his neck was exactly the same width as his quadruple chin.  This was Tom’s first day at Oakmere Primary School; it was also the first day for the head, Mr. Sloathington.  The previous head had a heart attack and dropped dead on Boxing Day, leading to Mr. Sloathington’s immediate assignment.

 

This was the first day of school after the Christmas holidays: Tom was extremely excited to get off to a good start to his new school and make a good impression on the teacher.  Miss Grumble (the Year 6 teacher) looked somewhat difficult to impress.  She was as thin as a lamp post and her mouth was like a beak, always pulled into a disapproving frown. 

 

Tom was so eager to start working on his story in English that when he tried to snatch his pen up from the table he accidentally flicked it away from him and hit Miss Grumble in the face.  The enraged teacher ordered Tom to go and see the new head at break time.

 

Back in Mr. Sloathington’s office, Tom was looking up into the scariest, hairiest nostrils he had ever seen while Mr. Sloathington bellowed angrily at him.  The most disgusting bad breath smell filled Tom’s nostrils, but the sight of the hair and the stench in the air meant that the words being bellowed did not mean a thing to him.  He had not got off to the start he had hoped to.

 

Hammerhead Corvette

This is a story based on Disney’s Rogue One, I really enjoy watching Rogue One so I decided to write a story about it. My story is about the Hammerhead Corvette that pushes one Star Destroyer into the other in the battle at the end of the film.

As we came out of hyper space we joined a battle we would never forget. Almost at once orders came through from Admiral Radis ‘Drive at full power into the Star Destroyer dead ahead, knock it into the next star destroyer , may the force be with you.’

Full speed we careered into the first star destroyer. Boring into its side we forced it into the second Star Destroyer’ completely removing the bridge. The second Enemy Destroyer achieved our goal by obliterating the shield gate. As the shield came down the crew of Rogue One were able to transmit the death star plans.

 

African Wild Dog

This is a poem that I have written about one of my favourite animals, African wild dogs.

 

The African Wild Dog

 

 

 

The African wild dog,

 

Trotting as a pack.

 

Defending the young,

 

Not leaving the sick at the back.

 

 

 

The African wild dog,

 

Has a new pup.

 

When they play fight,

 

They jump back up.

 

 

 

The African wild dog,

 

Hunting with each other.

 

Sharing the work out,

 

Between sister and brother.

 

Letter to Sirius from Dumbledore

This is a follow-on from my previous post.  Here Dumbledore replies to Sirius’ letter.

Dear Sirius,
I have read your letter and thought about it very carefully. I have come to the conclusion that you cannot send Harry the details of where you are currently in hiding. But, only where you think it is safe for the two of you to meet.
The reasoning behind this, is that if the letter was to be checked (which is extremely unlikely to happen but it does sometimes) you could be found. You can after all tell Harry everything when he visits you (which I am sure he will). Don’t put anything about where you currently take refuge.
I would quite like to discuss Harry, he has been chosen for the tri wizard tournament. I want to bring this up because he is magically bound to complete all three tasks, so no matter how much you plead with me he has to do it.
The next Hogsmead visit is in exactly two weeks today.
Hope all is well,
Albus.

Letter to Dumbledore from Sirius

This is fan fiction from the world of Harry Potter by the wonderful J K Rowling.  I wrote this because I was absolutely thrilled by the books.  This letter fits into the period when Sirius is hiding in the mountains during the Triwizard Tournament.

 

Dear Dumbledore,
I have been living, cooped up in this tiny cave, which is stinky, dirty and not at all a nice place to live for some time now. This letter is for many reasons but most of all two questions, they are for the same reason; the first question is, when is the next trip to Hogsmead due to take place?
I know you might be quite shocked at my question, but I will explain it perfectly well, I am asking permission to send Harry a letter containing the details to where I am in hiding so he and his friends Ron and Hermione can visit me?
I and Buckbeak have been getting on very well and I haven’t even had to stretch the packages of food that you have been sending me. This is because I have been letting Buckbeak have night time flies and he usually comes back with multiple dead animals from forests near-by. Buckbeak looks so free and wild when flying something that I shall never feel, and it’s all down to that traitor Pettigrew who got me locked up in that God forsaken place of Azkaban.
I remember the days when I, James, Lupin and Peter would go out laughing, joking playing and pranking, the world seemed that it was good [mind my manners] apart from that grumpy and moody Sniveluss of a Slitherin.
If you are all right with me doing so please send a letter A.S.A.P.
Your forever faithful friend,
Sirius.

Last Night I Saw The City …

This is a piece of school work that is inspired by Andrew Fusek Peter’s poem “Last Night I Saw The City Breathing.

Last night I saw the city waking,

In Central Park at the crack of dawn,

The daisies began to yawn.

 

Last night I saw the city breathing,

Car engines respire,

Same as the church choir.

 

Last night I saw the city laughing,

Windows giggled so they cracked,

On a bus that was packed.

 

Last night I saw the city dancing,

The trees jived,

As the swimmer dived.

 

Last night I saw the city crying,

A whistle wailed,

And then inhaled.

 

Last night I saw the city sleeping,

Offices blinked into a nap,

While a drowsy man tried to stare at a map.

music

Music
I play the clarinet which is a long black instrument with silver keys. I have a weekly clarinet lesson, right now I’m playing the Israeli national anthem, Hatikvah. I am also playing a tune called Riding on a Donkey, this Friday coming I’m going to a music summer school where we learn tunes and at the end of the day we play a concert to our parents.

My favourite music artist is Ed Sheeran I have his album Divide, it has loads of wonderful music on it. Some of the most moving songs on the CD are Supermarket flowers, which is about Ed Sheeran’s mum dying, the other moving song is a waltz called Perfect. There are also faster songs, some of my particular favourites are Galway Girl and Castle on the Hill.

The Last Tree

This poem is about orang-utans and how they are endangered.

The Last Tree.

The man of the forest swinging through the treetops,
Branch to branch, high above the ground.
All of a sudden he hears distant thunder,
The roar of engines and clanking machines.

The man of the forest looking for food,
Tucking in to wonderful fruit.
His world, his food getting smaller and smaller,
Finding food is harder each day.

The man of the forest sleeping in the canopy,
Making a nest from the leaves and the twigs.
His home and his bed are all in the forest,
Where will he sleep when the last tree is gone?

Ivory Looks Best On Me

 

This is a poem about elephants, I wrote this to help stop elephants’ lives being taken just for their tusks.

Ivory looks best on me.

 

 

 

Don’t take my tusks from me,

 

For Ivory looks best on me.

 

Don’t kill me for an ornament,

 

Because I deserve better treatment.

 

 

 

My grazing spreads the seeds,

 

I can do good deeds.

 

Farmers should not fear me,

 

Because we can live together peacefully.

 

 

 

 

 

In thirty years’ time,

 

Will I exist?

 

What have I done,

 

To be condemned to this?

 

 

 

We remember the things you do,

 

But we are gentle and will forgive you.

 

Don’t take my tusks from me,

 

For Ivory looks best on me.