It's Wednesday which means I'm visiting Cara over at Ooh ... Books! for FREEVERSE.
But before getting on the metro, where I'll be reading some more poetry, I'm going to pop in and say hello to a blogger buddy of mine. You may have seen her name on the comment pages but for those of you who haven't met her yet, I'd like to introduce you to ALICE IN WONDERLAND who writes some amazing poetry, accompanied by some wonderful graphics. Go pay her a visit, I'm sure she'd be pleased to meet you all. (Just let her know you came from Pen And Paper so I can claim my fee. Haha)
Anyway, onto the metro and this weeks poems from another two talented Geordie bairns.
St. James's Park;
The fat men are crying
And the toon flags are burning
The black cats are happy
Happier than ever
The coaches are leaving
With police escorting
No one has more blues
Then Newcastle fans.
- Ellis, age 10.
Ode to the Angel.
In '94 Gurmley did reveal
a city lacked that 'completed' feel
sans a sculpture of colossal size
that was custom built to grab your eyes.
I speak of what stands at Low Fell,
a symbol, leaving us compelled,
ascending from the screening trees
to stay one legged in the breeze.
It bears a steel skin
dipped in molasses,
where wings are crinkled cut
for welcoming the masses.
Silently signifies the soul of the North East
and declares to every driver-by
"Though faceless, I perceive."
- Varun, age 16.
'Ode to the Angel' is, of course, a tribute to the ANGEL OF THE NORTH which, like Marmite, people seem to either love or hate. Overlooking the A1 motorway at Gateshead, the rather androgynous looking sculpture weighs in at 208 tonnes, and at 20 metres tall is higher than a five storey building. Please take a look at the pictures and let me know what you think.