The students in Aycliffe Drive English Creativity Classes have written some Autumn poems by looking closely at all aspects of the conkers.
Its glossy inner shell is protected by the prickly packaged shielding,
As the shell divorces, it has a boot–polish shine
its shield torn apart.
It’s velvety, coconut blanket shelters the auburn treasure,
The shell sits on emerald leaves and is protected in luxury,
Glossy ,bronze conkers gleam as they sit in the sunshine,
The outer shell as prickly as a hedgehog,
Hot chocolate brown conker enveloped within,
The conker’s protection slowly withers,
As it sits alone on a blanket of leaves.
Waving in the whistling wind.
The glimmering hot chocolate brown bodies, gradually peeping secretly to the world,
The deep shine mirror with sun beaming down on its face,
Wanting to unlock and start a new life.
In the gleaming hot sun, resting on a rainbow of colours cushioned on a patchwork quilt.
Gradually, a brand new quilt on the unlocked treasure chest.
A snowy white blanket imprisoning the conker under the paint pallet of leaves, Protected from the cold, light breeze,
Conkers at home dozing off in the pillow cased shell,
Conkers concealed in the packaged winter warm wonderland,
Succulent chocolate slippered in their home,
Shielded conkers different shapes and sizes,
Sheltered enveloped trying to catch a glimpse of the new world with its deep shined eyes,
The shrivelled wizened hand grasping for life,
Auburn eyes, eclipsed sphere.
Gleaming pillowed balls revealed to the world,
The inner shell is light and milky to protect its little treasure,
The prickly lime green shell awakening peeping sleepily,
Taking its first glimpse of the world with its big blinking eye,
The leaves and twigs surround it looking on angrily,
Wondering why they can’t live in such luxury,
The ripe split shell looking, staring at everything around it,
The wrinkled withered face,
Grinning a toothless grin,
It’s coming toward the end of its life,
The rest of the conkers saddened, saddened, saddened,
But a new life will begin.
Feeling nothing, wearing soldiers’ hard helmet,
Revealing the toasted, smooth, round chocolate,
The spiky case finally unlocks,
An eye begins to peep to the world,
Surrounded by a cosy, creamy blanket,
Outer shells shrinking as the auburn conker is born,
Deep shine, mirror smooth conker starts the adventure in new world,
Roasted claws gouge their way through the golden leaves,
Glimmering sun suddenly appears shining down on the
Rolling down the hill the polish shine boot is forever lost in
The glossy, chocolate-brown conker looks around,
Peeking, nearly awake the conker sits in luxury,
As the prickly wrinkled shell cracks apart.
Cushioned in the soft creamy blanket,
The conker wakens,
So smooth it slips away from its bruised shell.
Lime green trees sway,
The conker drops suddenly,
The eyes blink taking quick peeps at their new surroundings,
Reluctant to leave their luxurious warmth,
The bronze glimmer reflecting in the sun,
Melting the chocolate treasure,
Softly leaves fall one by one
Onto the cradling fingers of the leaves
Out rolls the precious treasure