Clara's fairy box

I will put in my box             

A rainbow with eight colours in it

A sip of the Atlantic Ocean

The first tears of a baby

I will put in my box             

The first snowy day of winter

The smell of a fresh yellow rose

The smell of new sea

I will put in my box             

Sand trickling through my hand

The last bit of the Titanic

A statue of luck

I will put in my box             

All the rubies in the galaxy

My pony’s tail

The end of the world!

My box is made of…

The smoothest ice

When opened it turns to polar bear furs.

My Dragon

By Clara

My dragon is a water dragon

She is made of scales

She is Poseidon’s girl.

Every night we go into the sea

To say goodnight to the dolphins.

Her wings are huge,

Her tail in the water changes colour.

In her eyes water is reflected

Her breath is hot and when she breaths

I hear the sea

She eats corals

Her name is Mina.

haiku

It tickles my hand

It’s like a small ladybird.

Go back to your tree.

Rozenn

Red spotty firebug,

You look like a ladybird,

You have lovely spots.

Claudia

Sleepy praying priest,

Wish good luck to the firebug:

Fly baby firebug!

Jacques

It smells like cherry,

Lavender feels soft like fur,

It has flowers on.

Amelia

On the lavender

There is one last small flower

Which is dying now.

Alicia

Olive tree, cold, freeze,

Rosemary, maple tree burns,

Lavender curls up.

Pablo

Bushes that smell nice:

Lavender and Rosemary;

Not those spiky balls.

Tobias

Old olive tree curled,

Enjoying the gentle breeze, 

Sprouting fresh olives.

Mimi

 Light sings through the trees.

Leaves fall with a crunch of bugs.

The bugs are pretty crazy.

Penelope

When the red leaves fall,

The red firebugs fall as well,

And caterpillars.

Cristina

When the leaves fall down

They turn red and yellow up down

There are also fruit.

Maia

The maple is big,

Leaves have only six sides.

See, a spiky ball!

Fernando

Green spikes everywhere,

Maple tree hung with stink bombs:

I gave one to Jacques.

Gustavo

Red maple tree leaf,

Falling on the short green grass,

I take you back home.

Clara

The outline is white.

It looks like it is cracking:

A baby bird’s egg.

Ryan

Clara's pebble poems

Clara wrote two poems at home about two pebbles, one from Sweden, one from France:

 My first pebble

You have two holes

You are black and white

I found you in the sea

You look like a shark’s tooth

One of your holes is big

One of your holes is little

You have two pointy edges

You have a deep hole

You are solid

You smell of seaweed.

My little pebble

There is one side where you are smooth

You are so little that I can not find you on the beach

You look a bit like the face of a dog or a cat

The first time that I saw you you were so dirty

You don’t have a missing half

You are always cold

You have some designs

You are pointy on the back

You look a bit like a small triangle

You smell like you have been in a garden.

Clara