Oct 2008 - Morrison's Academy

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Page 30 The Morrisonian | 07/08 Secondary English S1 The Sea is a Wild Cat The sea is a wild cat, Beautiful and proud, Her white claws scraping up the sand And her sleek colourful body Twisting, turning In a current of its own. Green eyes sparkle, White teeth glisten. A small fishing boat, Sailing in the raging wind. Cunning is the wild cat, Waiting, body tense, Dark night, silent, Muscles ripple, then, Wham! A paw tosses the boat high, Sailors scream, mice shriek. White claws scratch black rock, The cat rolls about the shore, And then playfully returns, Toying and mocking the tiny boat, Paw to paw, paw to paw, A flick of a powerful tail, Then for the final kill, She pounces high, a beautiful arch, Down, down she falls, But the mouse is slick, Heading towards the harbour, Its safe mouse hole, Too narrow for the cat’s paw, She chases it, fury making her movements sharp. The storm is still raging with open hatred, But the boat has almost reached its haven. Then, a paw lashes, Boat crashes, Crew dead, The hunt is now over, The wild cat calm. She cleans her paws and raises her proud head, Her whiskers welcome in the dawn, “Look at me,” she whispers to the wind, “Look at me!” In the days to come, Wives and children will mourn, The destruction and deaths of last night, But the wild cat seems almost tame, And under the wispy clouds and faded moon She curls herself into a tight oval And sleeps the day through. Charlotte Pritchard S1
English S2 A Second Chance “Hey come back here!” Billy Jones was running as fast as he could through aisle 13 in the local supermarket with a bag full of food and drink. The manager was running after him but could not keep up with the much younger boy. Billy made it to the door and was out in a flash and along the road, still at top speed. The manager had given up trying to catch him saying that it was only a couple of bags of crisps and a few other things. Billy did not stop running until he reached his den where he stopped to examine his takings… Kirsten Jack S2 The Holiday Nightmare The plane lurched. George woke with a start, then relaxed back into his chair. His eyes took in his surroundings before closing again. Big, comfy seats were aligned in rows and a T.V. installed into the back of the chair in front of him. This was important as his long, skinny legs needed plenty of room. George Freeman was 16 years old and lived in Wells with his mother for most of the year but visited his father regularly. His parents were not divorced but they seldom saw each other except when George’s mother came down as well. Richard Freeman was a lawyer who had not only won many influential court cases in Johannesburg but in other parts of South Africa as well. Pauline Freeman, on the other hand, was a shopkeeper who earned a modest income. She had lived in England all her life until she had married Richard. They had both moved down to South Africa and lived a happy life until George came along. Wanting to raise her child in England, she had moved back up to Wells, leaving her husband behind. George himself was a large, tall boy but skinny. He was black with close cropped hair and bright, blue eyes. He worked in Well’s Cathedral as a tour guide and played squash regularly. He was proud to be part South African and was also a firm believer in God. The plane lurched again but this time, George slept on….. Lindsay Duncan S2 Secondary The Morrisonian | 07/08 Page 31 Paradise The July air was brushing against my face and there was a quiet stillness as birds were sleeping, their pinions as bright as gold. The summer breeze was lightly sweeping alongside the leaves of the trees of the unknown paradise; a mixture of yellows and greens, which cannot be distilled by mist, darkness or rain. The river was quietly moving through the rocks and stepping stones; the river like a blue thread, meandering through green cloth. This is paradise. However, among the emeralds and ambers, a grey giant stands ominously in the middle of the tranquil water. Trees and tulips are darkened by its shadow, shadowed by its darkness, sitting in its iniquitous wake. The huge pillar of rock and granite, knows not of the mutiny below, just of the destruction that it has caused and of the satisfaction it feels. If you look closer you can see this mutation of nature used to be something of beauty, prowess...awe: but man has dug into its core leaving an eternal scar on the natural splendor. This paradise has been marred by mankind. Alastair Hamilton S2
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Music
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Music Crieff during a Scottish tour
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Music Performance and Entertainment
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Music External Examinations and oth
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School Trips
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Debating - London no element of the
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Advanced Higher London Trip ‘The
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French Exchange/German exchange Adv
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WW1 Belgium Trip S2/S3 Tour of the
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WW1 Belgium Trip Silent Remembrance
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WW1 Belgium Trip In Flanders Fields
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Veil of Remembrance Cross-Curricula
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Former Pupils
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Former Pupils the Olympics are held
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Oct 2008 - Morrison's Academy

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