Year 6 have been studying a variety of poems about feelings and emotions. We have written a short anthology based on the sounds we could hear in the playground. We were not only thinking about the different sounds, but thinking about the feelings and emotions the sounds reminded us of. We wrote our poems in groups and used metaphors, personification and similes to help describe how the sounds made us feel. We hope you enjoy it as much as Miss Graham did!

The Sound of the Play Ground

In the haven of the peaceful playground,
The gentle wind carries an array of sounds…

An anthology of poems from Year 6

The wind enveloped me in its whistling way.
Footsteps were mice creeping up on me.
The grass crunched as people waded through the long stalks.
Trees swayed gently while bushes rustled,
And the air suffocated me in the smooth majestic sky.

The peaceful sounds enveloped me and soothed my ears,
As I strolled on to the yard.
The wind whistled calmly,
As it raced like a bullet through the elegant trees deeply agitating them.
The birds chirped tunefully,
As they glided elegantly through the air just skimming the leaves.
The relaxing silence was broken by the screeching of cars.
They were a raging storm, roaring down the road
With their clattering engines shouting loudly.

The mournful wind sighed amongst the shaky trees,
I heard distant humming like evil honey bees.
Blackbirds were cheeping, dogs were yapping and leaping around,
The playground was bursting with a variety of sounds!
The footsteps were mice squeaking round the flower pots,
The stones were clattered, darting like little live dots.
It was relaxing, it wasn’t loud,
The playground was bursting with a variety of sound.

The swaying grass rocked and rolled like an 80’s rock star.
The bees buzzed in the warm sunshine.
Drowned out footsteps stomped past my ear.
The tweeting birds were a beautiful symphony waiting for me to dance.

I lay still and peaceful on the grass, listening quietly.
Tranquil wind weaved through my fragile fingers.
Whispering trees swaying in the breeze were a choir of children.
Lush green leaves pirouetted like professional ballerinas.
I lay still and peaceful on the grass, listening quietly.

I sat still and calmly on the bench, listening silently.
High in the leaves feathery companions sing like a high pitched orchestra,
Church bells fade into the busy streets.
The gentle traffic is a comforting envelope.
I sat still and calmly on the bench, listening silently.