The magical mystery milk ....

No it's not a song by The Beatles. 1/2K did a fabulous science experiment this week and then we turned it into a poem. We hope you like it!

 

Mysterious, Marvellous, Magical Milk

By 1/2K

On each table was a little bowl of milk,

As if Mr Cat was having a birthday party.

While we watched and waited, Lauren drip -dropped in the food dye to make colourful smodges.

(“Mr Cat will be excited,” we thought!)

Then we took our detergent-y toothpick and we speared it into the milky white pond.

We didn’t stir it but something marvellous happened….

A whirlpool appeared,

Fireworks, swirls, an 18 pointed star.

A green porcupine in a rainbow rainpool.

A colourful pizza at the end of the rainbow.

Then it was a beautiful, spiral lollypop.

There was a peacock’s feather shining with pink and orange and green.

Or maybe it was a haunted twisted tree.

A sea-horse, a dragon, a leafy sea dragon!

It was like a magical potion in a fortune teller’s bowl.

We dipped again…

Yellow appeared slowly from the depths of the milk,

It swirled around as if a witch was stirring her cauldron.

We saw a multi-coloured bird that disappeared into a greyish, blue-ish fog.

In one afternoon, our bowls of milk had become bright explosions of mysterious colours.

It was a science lesson but it was also magic.

Next time we have to follow that bird….

Poppy day

Today is Remembrance Day. We read a story called “In Flanders Field” and learnt about why we wear poppies for Remembrance Day. Then we each looked at a poppy in a vase and did a botanical drawing of it, like scientists. We drew beautiful poppies and wrote beautiful poems to go with them. Lauren war [wore] her poppy skirt and brooch. 

Another interesting fact, today is the eleventh of the eleventh of the two thousand and eleven How many elevens? There are three elevens.
(written by Romy and Gareth)

Here are some of the poems we wrote:
 
Poppies look pretty.
Their stem is furry.
Its bud is like an elf hat.
I feel sorry, blue, happy.
And sad, because many soldiers died.
Poppies in Flanders Fields.
By Mia

As you hear the bombs fire, the poppies droop.
As they droop the ashes fall like rain that hasn’t fallen in years.
People drop down to feel the sadness through the past years.
In the end one man will stand.
By Sunita

In the memory of a dead soldier, poppies lie.
I feel sad and happy at the same time.
They sometimes grow in the wild.
They grow in unexpected places as well.
Poppies in Flanders Fields.
By Gareth

Like a soul in heaven
In a land of devils,
Where a man lied dead,
In a field of poppies,
On Christmas day.
By Daniel

The violent fields,
The men's red blood,

The red poppies like rubies.
By Clarrie

Poppies in Flanders Field’s
Red, scarlet, crimson.
Delicate petals.
I feel sad, my great grandpa dead.
Violent war, poppies in Flanders Fields
By Romy
 

In this violent land,
A man lying dead.
And a poppy, waiting.
By Josh