This is the 'Malvern Rap' written by some girls and boys in Year 6...
The Malvern Rap
Listen everybody, St Hugh’s is cool
And we know it’s a super duper school.
And Malvern in red is surely the best
Just look at us we’re better than the rest!
The roast potatoes are delicious and
The pork’s our favourite course
But the most delicious thing of all
Is the lovely chocolate sauce.
Ice cream, noodles, spaghetti, cherry pie,
Crumbles, custard, yoghurt, we make
It all fly.
Mr Nott is new, Mr Nott is cool.
We’re really pleased that he’s joined our school.
He’s tall and he’s funny
He loves shiney shoes
And he’s made St Hugh’s headline news!
Sam Harris, Chloe Edwards, Cecilia Codrington, Freya Granger, Megan McRobert
Below are poems written by the girls and boys currently in 'Sigma', the scholarship form:
BUILDINGS...
The Empire State Building
Tall,
Slender,
High and mighty,
This stately building full of beauty,
Scrapes the cloud filled sky.
Far below its Empire State,
Manhattan’s streets bustle.
Yellow taxis honk their horns
And noisy tourists stop and stare,
At the totem pole shape building,
Not unlike the ones that stood before
The birth of this now vibrant city.
Named by Indian ancestors as, Little Island,
Manhattan now sees this symbol of the people,
As its forefathers saw their totems.
This building built in depression and poverty,
Opened with confidence,
This building, a totem for our time.
Georgia Bishop
The Taj Mahal
The river Yamuna shimmers,
In the morning sun
The silver fish dance their silent dance
Under a ceiling of green
The weeds lean and bend,
Sway and twist in mourning,
Flowers wilt and bend
Towards the great Empress,
Grass droops in sadness
For their lost Queen.
Memories linger of when the gardens flourished,
The air was alive with humming insects.
The flowers spread their fragrant scent.
Peacocks strutted, fish leapt, animals wandered.
But now the tomb lies still.
And as the curves and the marble building,
Rise and soar above us
We can see the Emperor and Empress
And share their love.
Charlie Shingleton
The Gherkin
The skyscape square, angular, thrusting
And now in its midst something new
Shaped like a bullet top in a city which withstood the blitz
Stands the Gherkin elegant, proud
Scowling disapprovingly at the antiquated buildings
Arched and zany in its pride.
When the sun rises its vibrant colours appear
Reflections of sky, trees and steel
Glimmering in the sparkling sun
Tower Bridge in neo-gothic, sitting above the Thames,
Gapes at the mis-shapen intruder;
St. Paul’s Cathedral, with a spectacular dome,
Glares at this alien architecture;
London Tower, tall and slender,
Glowers at this territorial invader.
The gherkin just gazes back with a glint of contempt ion its eye.
The skyscape square, angular, thrusting
And now in its midst something new.
Claire Sykes
The Victoria Memorial Hall – West Bengal
Crimson silk
Ruby herb
Cherry spice
Scarlet scarf
Colours flying through the sky
Dancing in the sunlight.
In amongst a sea of colour
Standing tall, alone, proud
A shimmer of white
A glimpse of grandeur
Encircled by a ring of silver.
Brass cannons
Iron gates
Protect the majestic hall, where
The minarets soar, the dome is proud
Stone cold faces turn to the luminous lake.
In the cool of the evening the colours return
Crimson silk
Ruby herb
Cherry spice
Scarlet scarf
Colours flying through the night dancing in the moonlight.
Philippa Coull
The Glass Egg
A tangle of steel, a cloak of glass,
A pearl of modernity in a sea of the past,
An ammonite of steps curves up to afford,
A spectacular vista in perfect accord.
Glass petals clothe, steel creepers curl,
Round the dwarf-like fern yet to unfurl,
Though shrouded in darkness on the forest floor,
It ignites a light impossible to ignore.
Bones of steel, Body of glass,
The breathing building gulps and gasps,
Confident, prophetic, fresh and bold,
A building created, a story untold.
Emma Mackilligin
The Petronas Twin Towers
Like pencils, the towers write messages
In the sky,
Soaring above others,
In the heart of Malaysia.
Religion seeps throughout the towers,
Islamic patterns brought to life,
With marbles of many colours,
Creeping through the cracks.
And they stand spirited and noble,
In the dark of the night,
With their grand images reflecting,
Through the cobalt lagoon.
But still, they will not rest,
And let others tower of them,
They are a place of belief and worship,
Proud as the heart of Malaysia.
Abigail Hefferan
Angkor Wat
Hacking through ancient, decaying creepers,
A time worn stone abandoned by makers,
Emerges mystically and murmurs.
Secrets of silent hermits in cloisters,
Whispering chants of religious fervour
While chimes lament through halls of grandeur.
Fragrant incense burns a vivid tincture,
Emitting pungent smoke, wafting deeper,
Past statues of Vishnu veiled in splendour.
Brutality leaves a bloody fracture,
A violent tempest rendering ruptures
Extinguishing an era.
Calum Cockburn
The Sydney Opera House
Picture a world tired and worn,
Bombarded with sadness, sodden with fatigue.
A world where all hope is dim and faded
A world that is grey, dejected and drawn
Amongst this foggy existence there blooms
A bud of hope, a symbol of courage.
A pure petalled rose folded white in the harbour,
A sign of new life after fear and despair.
Blossom of confidence, iconic monument,
This fashioned bloom stands bold and proud.
A home of music, culture and art
House of opportunities, life and love.
Dora Taylor
