Layfield Primary School, 16 June 2014 Theme: The secret life of objects. Today I showed the children a picture of Hector wearing his fine helmet and read them Michael Longley’s beautiful poem called ‘The Helmet’ I showed them pictures of First World War One British helmets and helped them write poems as if they themselves were helmets. I like what they’ve done and hope readers do too. ‘I’m protecting you, you’re safe,’ I repeat George, ‘I’m protecting you’ But I’m afraid too - afraid of being forgotten. I cannot help being scared, I try to tell them where the enemy is hiding They don’t listen I want the war to stop I ask George one thing - one thing that only he can do I beg finish the war (IS) I remember David shooting bravely, but he was shot dead I comfort George – manage to stay put on him The muddy wet trench rusts me Nightly, George prays to go home (JH) George is my soldier he is ready for brutal war his face does not say it all but he feels safer when I’m here I must protect him even though I hate the trenches His friend is dead – I have said too much War is not ending! (HT) I sit there on his head making him shiver When it’s cold and wet that’s when I turn rusty He cries himself to sleep I catch his warm tears of truthfulness He tries to act mean when really he’s very kind (AP) My fear is being broken as Frank is really careless He feels brave when I’m here Every night he puts me on - starts to cry George was my best friend but he died now I lie in the mud and I know his secret I do not like to lie (LU) Designed in 1915 I am made of steel My owner is a German soldier his name is John I hate the trenches I have a fear of bullets Sometimes I get holes in my I don’t like the war I used to belong to John’s best friend now I catch Tom’s tears as he cries He wakes each morning with wet eyes red and swollen from sobbing (RG) I’m on a head infested with lice this head belongs to Fred my sharp edges scratch his face Although Fred keeps me with him I’m afraid of approaching bombs Fred may look bold, but he’s not They think it will be finished by Christmas I know it won’t - the war isn’t going to end soon (LH) In the trenches in France rusting away on top of Peter’s head I’m hoping I won’t get shot at Peter takes me off, I hit the cold, muddy ground. I catch his thoughts as he says them out loud I lock them up so they can’t be found Every night he whispers to me then cries himself to sleep thinking of his wife hoping that today won’t be like yesterday (SE) John’s salty tears dropped on me when he wore me for the first time I want to protect John - protect his head for four years straight I can tell he wants to go home but he’s not going to give up on the war (JG) Terrified of gun shells bouncing off me… My owner shivering fear making me slip from his head Dented and rusty falling into the sloppy mud sinking… sinking waiting to be revealed (HS) As John puts me on I feel brave We go to a long day of war I can’t handle all the bullets John puts me down and feels my dents I feel petrified of the war John doesn’t show it but he’s scared - he’s so scared he doesn’t wake up Now I feel so lonely (OL) The head I balance on bears a happy face With death at my disposal I feel cold I still remember George but I’m with Fred now - his death is also close (SJR) I sit on my soldier’s head never knowing if he will die But I’m still determined made as I am of sturdy iron. I’m very tight on my soldier’s head but I make him feel safer Though I do my job with pride taking part in war is hard (RH) I hear him breathe with a steady, slow beat as bullets whistle past, giving us cold feet I hear him muttering, betray, betray, betray as the water drips on me, rusting He feels secure and very protected as I think of my greatest, hated fear I sometimes feel it plunge through metal heat makes me very frightened Shot through with bullets Someone picked me up – put me on I remember John collapsing - I can’t get it out of my head (SMK) We’re rusty and ready for battle me and my pal called James I do the protecting, James does the fighting Maybe together, we can win this war (OH) Every day he picks me up I make him feel safe again I hear him talk to himself as we trundle through muddy trenches My metal rubs against his skin my rough leather strap tough against his chin Every day I go to war dreading that I might be shot or dropped on the floor I know that one day I’ll be melted down maybe made into bins and pans or anything else worth selling (SJ) People say that the war will end by Christmas but I know we still have four more years to go If I end up in a museum I hope everyone will know - that they will never forget I want to keep my owner safe Every time he’s in battle I’m there to protect him We will both fall into the mud (LS)
Posted on: Mon, 16 Jun 2014 21:51:46 +0000
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