Poetry Page - Woodhouse Middle School

Working with Teaching Staff Please note that Poetry appears in no particular order on this page, but is directly linked to its button below.

REMEMBER All the men who died in the war, All the men who died for us all. All the women who made the bombs, People who are heroes, these are the ones. All the names on the wall, Reminds you of how, Our lives come about to be, What they are now. How families suffered a loss, And how people helped each other. We will REMEMBER THEM, TODAY, TOMMORROW, FOREVER. By Beth Eardley year 8
BURMA RAILWAY I am hungry I But not for rice I was surrounded by rats and mice. Was forced and tortured to slave All to build the railway. Worked night and day, To build this dreaded railway. Having to cut down trees Why the temperature was 100 degrees With the noises of the jungle. By Jordan Kirkham year 8
BURMA RAILWAY Living skeletons working all day, Hundred degrees or more, They’re hungry, Very hungry, All they eat is rice, On Burma railway. By Kirstin Rae year 8
UNTITLED Going through the tunnel To get to heaven For the people who served For our freedom. Inside Iraq To Germany a long time ago People have died To keep the evil below. All the years All the locations All the people All for the same thing. Keep it cool Keep it calm And you will Get out of this war. By Billy Mierzwa year 8
PEOPLE LOST They’re hungry, Living skeletons as they work, The jungle noises lurk, 6,000 men cannot escape, Working in weather 100degrees a day, They do not even get any pay, For working 24 hours a day, To build the Burmese railway, All they eat is rice, That has been contaminated by mice. By Ryan Condliffe year 8
UNTITLED My name is on the wall, The bear is a great big haul, With the names of heroes carved inside, Now their souls shall never die. In the “Sands” garden all the babies sleep, Whilst their mothers stand up and weep. By Callum Lomax year 8
THEY WANT TO GO HOME They’re hungry, They’re hostages, They want to go home. They want different food, They’re not in a good mood, They want to go home. Working in weather you can’t imagine. Scrounging for rats, Instead of rice, They want to go home. By George Johnson year 8
UNTITLED As I crawled through the lush green tunnel I thought of the people who had done the same As they hid from the enemies As they closed in on them. By the gentle waterfall As the water trickles down the slippery rocks Just like when the Gun would be going off And all the men would be taking cover By Liam Barnett year 8
THE NAMES The Names, The Names The death and the fame What will we be doing amidst this tour It isn’t just death or war. The tunnels, the trenches They’re all there But they are for what we care All for what they did in the lonely trenches. Pay your respect And hope it won’t happen to you What do you expect? And when they remember, they’ll know who. By Tom Mc Keegan year8
UNTITLED All the walls covered in names, They all died trying, not playing games, Each and every plaque has an important meaning. And on the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month, A beam of light will shine through the gap. By Jessica Morgan year 8
NEONATURAL DEATH Pebbles and stones, Heartache and sadness, “Millie Grace” And “Garath Paul” Little fingers, Tiny toes, Large blue tear, Baby in the eye, Stones and pebbles, Sadness and heartache, Names and numbers, But still only children. By Emily Johnson year 8
UNTITLED The polar bear stands Ready for war The citadel of names Proud and tall Shining bright white on exactly The 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month The soldiers who died Live on in the gold writing The wooden eagle Awaiting at the door. By Robert Knapper year 8
UNTITLED My good friend Tommy, We had good times at home, Warm and happy. Now my good friend Tommy, Gone away, he’ll be back soon, I don’t have a doubt, That I’ll see him again. For queen and country, Or just so brave, They weren’t planning an early grave. Families lost, deny the news, Some praying that they got it all wrong, Some saying “it will all end soon”. The names fill the lines as big as they can be. The list is still going, But hopefully not for ever and eternity. By Alex Dempsey year 8
UNTITLED In a field full of poppies, Where the soldiers lay, Their life ended there, But the fight had not gone away. For each person left unknown, Another stone falls together, Remembering each and every one, Today tomorrow, forever. By Toni Holland year 8
UNTITLED In the memorial fields, The memories lie, Of good friends, family and neighbours, They are lost but never forgotten. Upon the hill the stone circle lies, With the names of all the people who have lost their lives, For queen and country, We will remember them, Today, Tommorow, Forever. The never ending memory of those who lost their lives, The sun will always shine on the righteous at the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month. By Rebecca Thompson year 8
UNTITLED The memories of all that served, Are in all the small places, Through the trees, Carved into stone, Leaving no spaces. The memories are guarded By a giant polar bear, And eagles spread around the place, To watch them with their glares. By Jessica Wilshaw year 8
MEMORIAL No one spoke a word, A sleeping born baby lay In the middle of the memorial On a table of stone. It looked so alone, It took my breath away, As stones were laid down, Beside the memorial way. As we walked through the memorials, A cloud of silence went over our heads, As we read the people who died for us, It tore our hearts away. “Thank you” should not be told to them, As they deserve more, They fought for our freedom, And many many more. Words cannot describe how we thank you. By Emma Morris year 8
THE CHILD A child lying on the ground, Mother and father nowhere to be found, Who was there for this poor child? Who probably hasn’t seen a face for quite a while. This child is dead, With no death-bed, No one there to mourn, To keep this child safe was sworn. By Aaron Barlow year 8
ALL THESE DEATHS All these deaths, Some at the war, Will we hear of any more? All these deaths, Now babies die, For no reason why. All these deaths, Even more die each day, But why do people die in such a strange way? All these deaths, How awful for the relations, This was no time for celebrations. All these deaths, We cannot round it all up, As long as we are prepared for the worst, And do not get hit by a bombshell, Remember Freedom is not Free. By Isaac Mountford year 8
THE TENT Oh boy this tent is great, It’s got enough space for 38, At it’s snazzy tables, We could write ten fables, Which I myself could create, On any random date, The floor is lined with cables, As we mark books with labels, The only thing I really hate, Is when people turn up late. By James Dawswell year 8
UNTITLED In the middle of a field, Where the dead are remembered, And where poppies are laid down, The deafening silence hangs around. The fields of trees, With plaques to commemorate, The babies, the men, the women, the dogs, All who died, have a tear next to their name. Their boards and statues and rocks, But why so many? And why they died? And the answer I give is this, They gave their life for ours in the Great War. By Jordshah Rowley year 8
MEMORIAL POEM Walking through the memorial fields, Touching the marble and stone, How there are so many flowers, Sculptures, trees and benches, So many memories for the elderly, But for us, a new experience today. Emotions flow through “Sands” garden, As pebbles with names show clearly, The sorrow that has been so, The many names carved on a wall, Thousands and thousands unknown. We give thanks to those who died, For our freedom forever more, And let them rest in peace, And we shall never forget them, Today, tomorrow, evermore. By Amber Wildsmith year 8
THE WAR There were battles all around, Many people hid underground. Many guns were fired, Many soldiers were tired. Soldiers fell dead in the fields, If only they had had shields. They sacrificed their lives for us, So we should respect them. By Chris Shore year 8
UNTITLED The sound of the pebble as it joins all the others, The others that remember the people who died, Each on tells a story of what happened to them, Whether through war or illness, They are all joined as friends. I ask the question…….. Why this one? I answer……. Because it was small, smooth and meant something to me. Small things such as pebbles, Come together as one, Something a part of everyone…… WE WILL REMEMBER THEM, TODAY, TOMMOROW, FOREVER. By Charlotte Garner year 8
UNTITLED As I walk through the gate, All I see is pebbles with the dismay of fate, The pebbles have names and the date, I stop to think….. Why did they take the bait? One stone said Kate, It was right next to the gate, There was a baby in the centre without a mate. By Oriana Rathbone year 8
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A SOLDIER Ice cold winds across my face, Gunshots fired around me, Voices screamed sounds of death. Soldiers fall one by one, They all cried out to be saved, Bodies scattered, a vision of red. For queen and country, For the glory of God, For those willing to lay down their lives. I was one of the lucky ones, But for all of those who have passed, May they not have died in vain. We will remember, remember, remember, For now, the future…… AND FOREVER. By Amy Bould year 8
WHISPERING WALLS The whispering walls of names Those who served and died for us To let us walk free in the streets To live free in our homes Still today we hear them. By Matthew Carter year 8
FREE? Worked to death, Starved to death, They stood the pain and paid a very high price, Captured and tortured to the bitter end, They fought for our country, Laid down their life for ours, Thank you is not the words to express our feelings, We owe you our life, and grateful we are, Were so many lives needed? There is always a price to pay, As freedom is not free….. By Deanna Salt year 8
UNTITLED Their blood was spilled on foreign land, As they trooped across the blood-drenched sand. The muzzle flash of enemy guns, Killing brothers, uncles, husbands, sons. Their corpses littered no-mans land, The horror of battle was seen first-hand. And for the sacrifice they gave, What they got those heroes, brave. A square of memorial wall 3 inches by 2, To have their name carved, to be stared at by you. As they lie in a grave, now on the other side, Still into battle we send soldiers to ride. To watch them die now on different soil, Because the leaders argue who owns the oil. Why are they called leaders, those who sit behind the line? Those who send men off to die just to say “now that’s mine!” By Chris Ryles year 8

REMEMBER

All the men who died in the war,

All the men who died for us all.

All the women who made the bombs,

People who are heroes, these are the ones.

All the names on the wall,

Reminds you of how,

Our lives come about to be,

What they are now.

How families suffered a loss,

And how people helped each other.

We will REMEMBER THEM, TODAY,

TOMMORROW, FOREVER.

By Beth Eardley year 8

BURMA RAILWAY

I am hungry I

But not for rice

I was surrounded by rats and mice.

Was forced and tortured to slave

All to build the railway.

Worked night and day,

To build this dreaded railway.

Having to cut down trees

Why the temperature was 100 degrees

With the noises of the jungle.

By Jordan Kirkham year 8

BURMA RAILWAY

Living skeletons working all day,

Hundred degrees or more,

They’re hungry,

Very hungry,

All they eat is rice,

On Burma railway.

By Kirstin Rae year 8

UNTITLED

Going through the tunnel

To get to heaven

For the people who served

For our freedom.

Inside Iraq

To Germany a long time ago

People have died

To keep the evil below.

All the years

All the locations

All the people

All for the same thing.

Keep it cool

Keep it calm

And you will

Get out of this war.

By Billy Mierzwa year 8

PEOPLE LOST

They’re hungry,

Living skeletons as they work,

The jungle noises lurk,

6,000 men cannot escape,

Working in weather 100degrees a day,

They do not even get any pay,

For working 24 hours a day,

To build the Burmese railway,

All they eat is rice,

That has been contaminated by mice.

By Ryan Condliffe year 8

UNTITLED

My name is on the wall,

The bear is a great big haul,

With the names of heroes carved inside,

Now their souls shall never die.

In the “Sands” garden all the babies sleep,

Whilst their mothers stand up and weep.

By Callum Lomax year 8

THEY WANT TO GO HOME

They’re hungry,

They’re hostages,

They want to go home.

They want different food,

They’re not in a good mood,

They want to go home.

Working in weather you can’t imagine.

Scrounging for rats,

Instead of rice,

They want to go home.

By George Johnson year 8

UNTITLED

As I crawled through the lush green tunnel

I thought of the people who had done the same

As they hid from the enemies

As they closed in on them.

By the gentle waterfall

As the water trickles down the slippery rocks

Just like when the Gun would be going off

And all the men would be taking cover

By Liam Barnett year 8

THE NAMES

The Names, The Names

The death and the fame

What will we be doing amidst this tour

It isn’t just death or war.

The tunnels, the trenches

They’re all there

But they are for what we care

All for what they did in the lonely trenches.

Pay your respect

And hope it won’t happen to you

What do you expect?

And when they remember, they’ll know who.

By Tom Mc Keegan year8

UNTITLED

All the walls covered in names,

They all died trying, not playing games,

Each and every plaque has an important meaning.

And on the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month,

A beam of light will shine through the gap.

By Jessica Morgan year 8

NEONATURAL DEATH

Pebbles and stones,

Heartache and sadness,

“Millie Grace”

And “Garath Paul”

Little fingers,

Tiny toes,

Large blue tear,

Baby in the eye,

Stones and pebbles,

Sadness and heartache,

Names and numbers,

But still only children.

By Emily Johnson year 8

UNTITLED

The polar bear stands

Ready for war

The citadel of names

Proud and tall

Shining bright white on exactly

The 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month

The soldiers who died

Live on in the gold writing

The wooden eagle

Awaiting at the door.

By Robert Knapper year 8

UNTITLED

My good friend Tommy,

We had good times at home,

Warm and happy.

Now my good friend Tommy,

Gone away, he’ll be back soon,

I don’t have a doubt,

That I’ll see him again.

For queen and country,

Or just so brave,

They weren’t planning an early grave.

Families lost, deny the news,

Some praying that they got it all wrong,

Some saying “it will all end soon”.

The names fill the lines as big as they can be.

The list is still going,

But hopefully not for ever and eternity.

By Alex Dempsey year 8

UNTITLED

In a field full of poppies,

Where the soldiers lay,

Their life ended there,

But the fight had not gone away.

For each person left unknown,

Another stone falls together,

Remembering each and every one,

Today tomorrow, forever.

By Toni Holland year 8

UNTITLED

In the memorial fields,

The memories lie,

Of good friends, family and neighbours,

They are lost but never forgotten.

Upon the hill the stone circle lies,

With the names of all the people who have lost their lives,

For queen and country,

We will remember them,

Today, Tommorow, Forever.

The never ending memory of those who lost their lives,

The sun will always shine on the righteous at the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month.

By Rebecca Thompson year 8

UNTITLED

The memories of all that served,

Are in all the small places,

Through the trees,

Carved into stone,

Leaving no spaces.

The memories are guarded

By a giant polar bear,

And eagles spread around the place,

To watch them with their glares.

By Jessica Wilshaw year 8

MEMORIAL

No one spoke a word,

A sleeping born baby lay

In the middle of the memorial

On a table of stone.

It looked so alone,

It took my breath away,

As stones were laid down,

Beside the memorial way.

As we walked through the memorials,

A cloud of silence went over our heads,

As we read the people who died for us,

It tore our hearts away.

“Thank you” should not be told to them,

As they deserve more,

They fought for our freedom,

And many many more.

Words cannot describe how we thank you.

By Emma Morris year 8

THE CHILD

A child lying on the ground,

Mother and father nowhere to be found,

Who was there for this poor child?

Who probably hasn’t seen a face for quite a while.

This child is dead,

With no death-bed,

No one there to mourn,

To keep this child safe was sworn.

By Aaron Barlow year 8

ALL THESE DEATHS

All these deaths,

Some at the war,

Will we hear of any more?

All these deaths,

Now babies die,

For no reason why.

All these deaths,

Even more die each day,

But why do people die in such a strange way?

All these deaths,

How awful for the relations,

This was no time for celebrations.

All these deaths,

We cannot round it all up,

As long as we are prepared for the worst,

And do not get hit by a bombshell,

Remember Freedom is not Free.

By Isaac Mountford year 8

THE TENT

Oh boy this tent is great,

It’s got enough space for 38,

At it’s snazzy tables,

We could write ten fables,

Which I myself could create,

On any random date,

The floor is lined with cables,

As we mark books with labels,

The only thing I really hate,

Is when people turn up late.

By James Dawswell year 8

UNTITLED

In the middle of a field,

Where the dead are remembered,

And where poppies are laid down,

The deafening silence hangs around.

The fields of trees,

With plaques to commemorate,

The babies, the men, the women, the dogs,

All who died, have a tear next to their name.

Their boards and statues and rocks,

But why so many? And why they died?

And the answer I give is this,

They gave their life for ours in the Great War.

By Jordshah Rowley year 8

MEMORIAL POEM

Walking through the memorial fields,

Touching the marble and stone,

How there are so many flowers,

Sculptures, trees and benches,

So many memories for the elderly,

But for us, a new experience today.

Emotions flow through “Sands” garden,

As pebbles with names show clearly,

The sorrow that has been so,

The many names carved on a wall,

Thousands and thousands unknown.

We give thanks to those who died,

For our freedom forever more,

And let them rest in peace,

And we shall never forget them,

Today, tomorrow, evermore.

By Amber Wildsmith year 8

THE WAR

There were battles all around,

Many people hid underground.

Many guns were fired,

Many soldiers were tired.

Soldiers fell dead in the fields,

If only they had had shields.

They sacrificed their lives for us,

So we should respect them.

By Chris Shore year 8

UNTITLED

The sound of the pebble as it joins all the others,

The others that remember the people who died,

Each on tells a story of what happened to them,

Whether through war or illness,

They are all joined as friends.

I ask the question……..

Why this one?

I answer…….

Because it was small, smooth and meant something to me.

Small things such as pebbles,

Come together as one,

Something a part of everyone……

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM, TODAY, TOMMOROW,

FOREVER.

By Charlotte Garner year 8

UNTITLED

As I walk through the gate,

All I see is pebbles with the dismay of fate,

The pebbles have names and the date,

I stop to think…..

Why did they take the bait?

One stone said Kate,

It was right next to the gate,

There was a baby in the centre without a mate.

By Oriana Rathbone year 8

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A SOLDIER

Ice cold winds across my face,

Gunshots fired around me,

Voices screamed sounds of death.

Soldiers fall one by one,

They all cried out to be saved,

Bodies scattered, a vision of red.

For queen and country,

For the glory of God,

For those willing to lay down their lives.

I was one of the lucky ones,

But for all of those who have passed,

May they not have died in vain.

We will remember, remember, remember,

For now, the future……

AND FOREVER.

By Amy Bould year 8

WHISPERING WALLS

The whispering walls of names

Those who served and died for us

To let us walk free in the streets

To live free in our homes

Still today we hear them.

By Matthew Carter year 8

FREE?

Worked to death,

Starved to death,

They stood the pain and paid a very high price,

Captured and tortured to the bitter end,

They fought for our country,

Laid down their life for ours,

Thank you is not the words to express our feelings,

We owe you our life, and grateful we are,

Were so many lives needed?

There is always a price to pay,

As freedom is not free…..

By Deanna Salt year 8

UNTITLED

Their blood was spilled on foreign land,

As they trooped across the blood-drenched sand.

The muzzle flash of enemy guns,

Killing brothers, uncles, husbands, sons.

Their corpses littered no-mans land,

The horror of battle was seen first-hand.

And for the sacrifice they gave,

What they got those heroes, brave.

A square of memorial wall 3 inches by 2,

To have their name carved, to be stared at by you.

As they lie in a grave, now on the other side,

Still into battle we send soldiers to ride.

To watch them die now on different soil,

Because the leaders argue who owns the oil.

Why are they called leaders, those who sit behind the line?

Those who send men off to die just to say “now that’s mine!”

By Chris Ryles year 8