The following poems written by the children of Class 2 at Henleaze Primary School (Mrs Mumford’s class Year Six class) The poems were all written in response to the following poem by the American poet William Carlos Williams:

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold Sue introduced the poem during a workshop at the school (for Threshold Prize) and as the children had been focusing on climate change as a topic in school she encouraged the children to write “Poems of apology to the earth”.

I’m really sorry

Dear Mr R. Forest,

I’m so very sorry I

bought my new book this weekend.

It was a very good book though,what you might

call a page turner.

I finished it in 2 hours 23 mins.

I’m really sorry I caused more deforestation

and cut down one of your friends.

Lily Cooper

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Regret

 

Dear Mr. Polarbear

I am extremely sorry for the foolish behaviour, of myself and mankind.

This morning I stumbled out of bed,

I rapidly sprinted around the house!

You see Mr. Polarbear I did not mean you any harm,

but as I arrived, late for school,

I realised what I had done!

 

I am so sorry and I will never forget the feeling of when I forgot to turn out the lights!

Yours Sincerely,

James Hawker

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I’m sorry Earth.

 

Sorry Earth.

I’ve been so bad

Learning how to drive with dad.

It’s just so fun!

I can’t resist.

I should’ve given you some interest

Sorry Earth.

 

Osian

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I’m Sorry

 

I’m sorry that

the other day

I put some paper

in the bin

instead of in the recycling

 

So I’m asking you to forgive

me World for my

recklessness and waste

it won’t happen again

Promise, pinky promise,

Promise with all my heart

 

By Hannah

 

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Forgive me

 

This is just to say

I’m sorry for driving

to school today.

 

It’s just that I

was in a hurry to

get to school.

 

Please forgive me

my Mum decided to

I tried to change her mind.

 

She refused to cycle

and forced me into

the car.

 

Tom Crawford

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Dear Mother Nature,

 

I am so sorry,

for that handful of litter,

but it wasn’t my fault!

I was abducted,

by a ferocious green man,

and you see,

There was nothing I could do,

He turned me upside down,

It drifted out of my pocket,

into the drain!

 

By Xar

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I’m sorry

I’m very sorry

that I left

the light on

in my bedroom

 

This was all

a big mistake

I regret my actions

this will never

happen again

please forgive me

Jack Smith

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I  am sorry

Dear light

I am very sorry

That I left you on when I went

out I am wasting electricity.

 

It is like I am throwing it

away like your nothing.

 

Because of this I am

killing polar bears

and other animals.

 

I am very sorry

please forgive me.

Thomas

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Why did I do that?

Dear Animals,

I’m extremely sorry,

so sorry for poaching

and killing your home.

 

I should have checked

if it was sustainable,

maybe if I’d read the label.

 

I’ve encouraged them to

destroy your habitat

and I don’t think it

will stop at that.

 

Why oh why am I

so stupid

why oh why did I do that.

Matthew Peacock

 

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A foolish toss!

Hey Earth,

I threw a recycleable piece

of paper in the normal bin.

I was playing a game of paper

toss. I was aiming for the recycling bin and missed

and I didn’t get it out.

Please forgive me, it

was selfish and irresponsible and is

destroying our forests and

every thing

in it

I

promise

I

will

never

do it

again.

Talhah

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Why did I do this

I am so sorry

I left my light on

When I went to have my tea

When I had done this

I turned it off as soon as I realised

I know you are not happy not happy at all

This will not happen ever again

By Loli Baird

 

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I am sorry

Dear Animals,

This is a little letter to say

how sorry we are for cutting

down your forests.

 

I’m sorry I am useless at drawing

but my teacher makes me do it again and again.

Even though I tell it ruins you. I do I do.

It wastes paper and is picking you off

like ducks at a fair.

 

Pleeeeeeease forgive me.

By Henry

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Collaborative poem from the children of Class 3, Henleaze Primary School (Mr Burge’s Class)

Our planet

has blazing suns crashing

exquisite multicoloured grass

diamond tootsie roses,

clowns eating quavers,

sky aliens, flying cows,

flaming weather beaten mango asteroids,

happy pink ninjas,

a funky platypus laughing flamboyantly,

sagging miniscule realms,

knife twisting gorillas,

a cold vindictive hand.

 

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Stolen Thoughts

Can you picture?
Someone fighting for their life.

Can you hear?
The screams pounding in my ears.

Can you taste?
The bitterness of tears from pain you can’t express.

Can you feel?
Loneliness that you can’t explain.

Have you ever?
Walked alone for miles.

Shouldn’t you?
Think before you speak.

Couldn’t you?
Give back what you took.

Whether that be,
Innocence.
Love.
Or even purity.

No.
Because even now, you still don’t think.

© Samantha Schumer, age 14

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A Short Story From Isabella French

Life is so boring. There’s nothing to do. Wait!, hang on a minute, what’s that noise? It is so loud and I

suddenly feel icy old. A Tornado? No, it can’t be.

It’s just a …………………. yes, it is a Tornado!

Panic! Where am I? I was at home in England, playing in my garden, everything is bright, am I in

the white shirt on the washing line? Or tangled in the toilet paper perhaps? No. It’s the, ….. the

Tornado sucking me up, whirling me around like a washing machine!

I suddenly saw my Dad looking as small as an ant “Dad, Dad!” I called. I managed to look over the

Tornado. “Mum! Mu-, wow! I’m in America!” I looked over the side again and saw (full story here)

© Isabella French, age 7
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A Short Story From Shaylee Rosnes

They tell me I was left on their doorstep when I was a baby, but I don’t believe them. I mean

I know I was adopted because I look nothing like my parents, but left on their doorstep I doubt it.

Although to be quite honest I’m not sure what to believe anymore. My parents never talk about my

real mom. (They were kind enough to tell me that my real father died of cancer right after my mom got

pregnant with me.) So since they never talk about her I’m hoping to at least get her name out of them so

I can go find her myself….(full story here)

© Shaylee Rosnes, age 16