Room 3 wrote poems about spotlight at camp.
Our W.A.L.T entertain our reader by recounting spotlight.
Our S.C. Use descriptive language, include metaphors and similes, use other language features. Here are some of our examples.
Above me trees cheering people on silently, silently because they don’t want to wake their other tired friends. The Man in the Moon with his flashlight yelling 1, 2, 3, torch on as the gentle breeze carries his voice as far and fast as it can. Unlike Emma nobody tagged him. People peeking prudently from their places while Emma searches the forest floor. I hear giggling thumping and leaves shuffling about. The stars like tour guides are showing us where to go. People diving into an Olympic swimming pool filled with leaves because they hadn’t reached a tree, Emma’s torch searching for us in the darkness.
Below me the trees have chosen children they want to reach Emma. They are tripping the others with their long twisty roots, and moving their arms so they are in your way. The leaves running around with the help of the west wind, running because your weight would break every bone in their body. Rocks try to stop us by appearing in our path. They are going out of their way to make us slip back down the steep slope. A bug crawling round as I reveal where it hides while trying to hide from Emma’s blinding torch that picks us out with the light it provides. I’m running faster than a cheetah, flying like the wind with each step I take towards Emma and victory at the top.
In front of me the towering pine. It’s bark digging into my skin like blunt needles. Its root as slippery as wet soap. The blade of light cuts through the forest searching like a hound dog for me. I notice that my classmates elbow is sticking out. I want to warn him but I would have to give myself away. The light comes round and Emma notices his elbow. The torch goes off. 1, 2, 3, Torch on. Nowhere to hide I jump onto the leaves. The crunchy dry leaves are rough against my chest. Twigs like soldiers swords poking and prodding me. Torch Off.
Behind Me dark shadows approaching up the hill as loudly as they dare. Trees getting used like shields protecting us against the light that looks for us and prevent us from tagging Emma. The ropes tripping others and causing them to get caught by eagle eyed Emma. 12 people are out will I be next? I hope not. Heart pounding boom, boom boom. Feet thudding thump, thump thump. I continue up the hill any second now torch off 1, 2, Tag.
Above me the pitch black sky tries to stay hidden while out comes the bright yellow blade like torch of the moon with A flash. The leaves on the trees above me play on the silent tongue of the breeze. The shimmering shine of the full moon gleams on the calm water. The luminous stars above me appear like little dots.
Below me leaves crackling like paper being scrunched up. Twigs slide down the uneven slippery ground. Cicada’s run for their lives, to protect themselves, from getting stepped on. Outcome the gnarled knuckles of the trees roots. The sticks on the ground scratch my legs as if they’re attacking me.
In front of me I see kids running to find a tree. I can see Emma’s eager eyes from five trees away .I see there tree where Emma’s standing and try to make a run for it. In front of me I see Emma, where victory eagerly awaits me.
Behind me I see rocks tumbling down the hill behind I see Adults and children waiting for the three se ends to end, for them to run. I hear children waiting nervously, getting ready to run any second now. As I pat Emma on the back I note that victory is now mine
The dark night sky is watching as we are playing. Emma’s flaming torch cuts through the tree. The orange moon sparkles into the corner of my eyes. I can hear faint giggles up ahead. The trees sway slowly in the calm breeze. I can see Mrs. Knofflock thumping into trees.
My feet crack on twigs. Big hairy bugs crawl on my shoes. Below me the roots try to trip us up. The leaves are slippery. My feet struggle to grip the ground as I hide behind a tree. The ground shakes like an earthquake.
In Front Of Me
Mrs. Knofflock is smacking Jackshen’s head against a tree. Tree bark is glaring at me. In front of me is the dark gloomy world. Emma is waiting with her torch. I see kids running like a cheetah trying to get to the next tree.
I can hear people running like they are running for their life. Kids whisper from tree to tree. I am almost there 1 2 3 TAG!!! YA!!! I tagged Emma.