Page 37 - Herioter 2020
P. 37

October

          inspiration


          The increasingly autumnal days of
          October encouraged creative writing in
          the Junior School, not least Hallowe’en
          and the opportunity of the midterm
          break for pupils to send postcards to
          their teachers. P7 pupils also created
          propaganda posters as part their study
          of World War II, while P6 examined the
          Victorians.






                                                                                                     Antonio McCathie (P3)
                                                                   Maya Abadan (P4)

                                               Carving a Pumpkin                     A Victorian

                                               When you carve your pumpkin, you fill it
                                               with light,                           Orphan
                                               And in the dark it’ll be a scary sight.
                                               When you carve your pumpkin with a    Standing in the dark shadows under
                                               sharp tool,                           the bridge, I could see a small figure.
                                               Will it be a ghost or will it be a ghoul?  As I walked towards it, I noticed it was
                                                                                     a young boy. It looked as if he was
                                               When you carve your pumpkin at        quivering. He was really shaking. His
                                               Hallowe’en,                           hands clutched to his knees, I could
                                               Will you leave it outside for it to be seen?  almost hear his heart pounding in the
                                               When you carve your pumpkin, it’ll be   cold foggy mist. I noticed that he had
                                               fun,                                  a large scar down the left side of his
                             Catriona Polson (P7)
                                               It only takes twenty minutes to be done.  face. I could see he was quite a freckly
                                               Daragh Lennon (P4)                    boy with jet black scruffy hair. His face
                                                                                     was as pale as paper and his shirt and
                                                                                     brown shorts were ripped and holey.
                                                                                     As I crept closer, I could see he had a
                                                                                     picture of someone clutched in his left
                                                                                     hand. I could tell it was a woman, his
                                                                                     mother maybe.
                                                                                     He started talking to me. ‘W – what
                                                                                     are you doing?’ I could tell his lip was
                                                                                     quivering.
                                                                                     I replied, ‘I was just out on my early
                                                                                     morning stroll.’
                                                                                     ‘Oh, but I’ve never seen you here
                                                                                     before,’ he answered.
                                                                                     ‘I must make my way home,’ I told him.
                                                                                     And with that I turned around, my oil
                                                                                     lamp in my left hand and headed back
                                                                                     to the Pig and Whistle.
                                                                                     Ceiba Colquhoun (P6)
                               Milly Scannell (P7)                  Lucy Beckett (P4)

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