Secondary school runner up poems

 

Casteron Business and Enterprise College

 

Rutland has...

Amazing Sights,

Beautiful wildlife,

Colourful flowers,

Dazzling theatres,

Elaborate buildings,

Famous landmarks,

Glorious weather,

Historic castles,

Interesting hobbies,

Jolly folk,

Keen sportsmen,

Local talents,

Magnificent bike rides,

Narrow lanes,

Original houses,

Pretty scenes

Quiet areas,

Raving clubs,

Super restaurants,

Terrific sculptures,

Unbelievable views,

Victorious atmosphere,

Winning sport teams,

Extraordinary climates,

Yellow sun flowers,

Zooming birds

 

                Harriet Harvey

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Much in little, much in small,

But we will answer the activity call.

There is the biggest man made reservoir,

It's up the road, hop in your car,

There are the scary high ropes,

The really cool sailing boats,

All in the county of Rutland.

There is a lot of farming,

The wildlife is charming,

The fish, the birds, the sheep, the frogs,

The cows, the pigs, the cats, the dogs.

The horses trot gallantly,

Then they're shut away with a key,

Sometime during the tiring day

Flies a protected Osprey,

All in the county of Rutland.

 

Market towns, like Oakham or Uppingham,

Where there are shops galore,

Sport shops, book shops, food shops,

All there for a paying customer,

The markets every week.

Where an average Joe can make a fortune,

There are the villages,

Libraries, surgeries, post offices,

The sweet shop of nature

This poem has a lot in little,

Just like the county of Rutland

 

                George Tyler

 

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You wake up, cloudy skies,

Walking out into the rain,

The heavy drops hitting your head hard and cold,

The grass is muddy and wet,

But even in the circumstances,

Children are having fun,

Skidding on the slippery mud,

Getting soaked with rain,

But then the tiny cracks of sunlight burst through,

And the clouds clear,

So the rainbow will make an appearance,

The children will take off their wet and muddy raincoats,

And enjoy the sunny weather while it lasts,

They get out their bikes,

And cycle to Rutland water,

Going up and down hills,

Full speed ahead,

The wet floor making it humid in the tracks,

And smiling when the children get their ice creams,

Because that is what it's like in Rutland.

 

                April Dams 

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I rip the curtains apart,

A contended smile spreads across my face.

The sunlight shines on the glorious waters,

And graceful birds soar through the deep blue sky.

People can spend a lifetime, waiting for a moment like this.

 

A swarm of beautiful butterflies fly across my window, like a blessing.

The clouds thicken and then crack and split like a roar of cannonballs tumbling down a marble staircase.

The rain drips from rooftops; splashing down to the wet floor.

 

The flowers bloom and blossom into the gorgeous bright colours

The golden leaves sway in the summer breeze and fall delicately to the fresh green grass.

It's morning in Rutland; that you can never forget.

 

Lily Sykes

 

Uppingham Community College

 
The smallest county in the land,
Pretty and scenic, life here is grand.

Acres of fields and lush green grass,

Old stone villages through which to pass.

Rutland Water, the county's jewel,

For outdoor pursuits, utterly cool!

Uppingham and Oakham, centuries old,

Small market towns, our interest they hold.

There's no other place I'd rather be,

Than in wonderful Rutland, my family and me!
 
                Olivia Gerard
 

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Rutland, Rutland is the best

Rutland's better than all the rest

Rutland is the best county,

Even better than my chocolate bounty.

Seeing all the white sheep in the field,

Is better than watching Sheffield.

Rutland, Rutland is the best,

Because Rutlands better than the rest

 

                Bradley Holmes

 

 

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Rolling green valleys

In the small town of Rutland

Sheep graze peacefully

               

                Duncan Bennett

 

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Morning has broken, at Rutland Water,

Wildlife is woken, by the red sky,

Sheep busy eating, little lambs bleating,

Waterfowl greeting, as they fly by.

 

Fishermen standing, patiently waiting,

Cyclist will soon be, out in their hoards,

Sailing boats ready, all in their colours,

Windsurfers too, will be out on their boards.

 

People are waking, as dawn is breaking,

Starting to wander, as times goes on,

Taking in beauty, of their surroundings,

All of this happening, as Ospreys look on.

 

                Ellie Joyce

 

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The farmer heaves and hoes through his land

Moving too and thro with a sore hand

Working to get his harvest in

And caring to ensure none go in the bin

Milking cows, shearing sheep

Making a giant woollen heap

Defending his land from the crows

And now back to the heaves and the hoes

 

                Jack Jenkins

 

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As the shadow prowls

He sees the blue bells sprout

And as the trout leap from the heart of the lake

He hears the rustle of a grass snake

 

As the shadow lurks

By the waters edge

He sees the Osprey dive

For fish so alive

 

As the shadow stalks

His pray of rabbit

Through the field of corn

New life is born

 

As the shadow creeps

The fields at night

He sees the barn owl fly

And the farm house cat leaps

For the field mice he so clearly seeks

 

What is the shadow you may ponder

The shadow of course is the myth of the Panther

 

                Guy Griffiths

 

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All is calm in a small quiet Rutland snuggled up to the huge flowing hills. Happily perched in the valley, like a small bird curled into a bramble bush. Protected but aware, small but with a beautifully and bold song, standing out from the rest. A small burst of light over the clouds, galloping faster and faster desperately trying to peep over its dark prison to give its warming light. Finally it summons enough energy to rise out of the murky depths, into its clear blue swimming pool simmering, shining, floating alone. A Golden Wonderland is revealed, like a golden patch work sewn by the sun. Weaving with his grassy green thread he links the land together. The yellow, green and golden fields shake off the annoying dew and bask in the sun's heat. Villages scattered on the land like sprinkles on a cake. The tree's stretch their knobbly old backs, there green bushy hair dried in the wind, playing and passing their reedy tune, sweeping across the fields. A flicker of red through the golden corn, the fox returns from his feast, satisfied and full, keeping all senses on full alert to flee at the sign of the hunt. High above the Osprey glides, saying to himself there is no place on Earth he would rather be.

 

                Harry Clarke

 

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There is green by the lake

And gold in the sky,

Where the water reflects

And the Osprey fly

 

By the railway track

Where the trains go by

There are people sight seeing

To watch the Osprey fly

 

The flowers are swaying

In the powerful wind

The rain is spraying

On the people's chins

 

The foxes are running

As the people shoot

The owls are flying

And when they hear the bang they hoot

 

A good thing about Rutland

A good thing to me

Is that this little county

Is an amazing place to be!

 

                Lydia Thompson-O'Connor

 

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The rich red land glowing in the sunlight

The little country lanes winding round and round

The rims of sunlight shining down on the railway making 12 arched shadows

The pretty red roses climbing up the cottage walls

As I walk along the pathway, the blue bells dance around my feet

Cotton candy clouds floating high up in the sky

The sun setting on the reservoir,

A perfect end to my day in Rutland

 

                Sarah Walker

 

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Clip-clop of the horses hooves on the road

Walking down a steep hill, spotting

The red coasts standing out in the distance

The warm taste of sausage rolls and cake, melting in the mouths

The last few words of the master

The horn is blown and off we set

Galloping through the forest

Crack, Snap of the branches breaking

 

                Georgia Brown and friend

 

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As the riders prepared the horses the FOX sneakily prances across the fields with his tails between his legs whilst listening to the howl of the hounds.

 

They blew the horn and set off with the hounds, paws pitter pattering across the wet ground and the thud of the horses feet shaking through underneath them

 

The fox scrambles under the hedge and the hound follows after, snarling and growling at the fox as the horses proudly leap over the hedge

 

The hounds gain on the fox with excitement, in the fences the fox is exhausted, tired and cold. He gives up, the hounds got him!

 

                Harry Boon

 

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Rutland Water is a place of wonder

It's a place where you can walk around and ponder,

But usually people are mesmerised

By the beauty that will catch your eyes.

Laying on the lush fields where there isn't a crowd

You can see the apologue of the clouds,

Understand their simple ways

And you will be engrossed for days upon days.

But as the golden sun begins to fall

The birds will have their last call,

Fish grab their evening meal

Rutland suddenly becomes surreal.

The night creeps up on the land

Everything is far from bland,

Moonlight grass waltz to the rhythm of the night

Gentle shadows sway in the moonlight.

Bunny rabbits come out to play

The white owl can see its prey,

Rabbits run in fear

The white owl sheds a tear.

As the dawn breaks

A new day awakes,

The Osprey soars over the meadowland

And cries! This is Rutland!

 

                Poppy Culbert