Friday, 29 July 2016

Leaf Poem

My leaf poem


The chlorophyll slowly dies out, taking the green colour with it.
The stem curves out the side, like an umbrella handle.
The beige underside turns to brown as it gets closer to the edge.
The vein shoots straight up, from the bottom to the top.

Sometimes on a Saturday Morning

Sometimes on a Saturday morning

Sometimes on a Saturday morning Lucy and I will get up out of our warm comfy beds, and we make pancakes for breakfast. 

I would snatch the flour packet out of the pantry, while Lucy would grab the eggs, milk, and butter out of the fridge. Then we would get the salt and sugar from the bench. We would mix the dry ingredients into the mixing bowl, then add in the wet ingredients. We would fry up the mix until golden brown. I would go around the house and asked everytime what they wanted on their pancakes, and by this time Theo would by up and watching t.v. 

While we were waiting for the other pancakes to cook, we would put the cooked pancakes in the oven to keep them warm. When all the pancakes were made, we would call everyone to the table and we would dig into the scrumptious pancakes