The circus show

The lights flash,

As the acrobats jump,

They soar across the tent,

But one starts to descent!

His rope has snapped,

Oh no, what to do?

But another rope comes,

It was all part of the act.

Now a clown enters too,

And steals the show,

With his bright red nose,

And that colourful dress,

And a great, wide grin,

at haunts you in the night.

 

He starts to juggle,

1, 2, 3,

Now 4,

Then 5,

I’m not sure how he does it,

Entirely.

It is almost the end,

The clown dances off,

The Acrobats leap,

And the animals are doffed.

The ringmaster steps up,

And thanks us all,

It is time to go,

But I want to see, another show!

The Spooky Mansion

The wind whistles through the trees as light begins to fade. Then we see it through the trees. It was all Pat’s idea to visit what we thought was an old deserted house: an idea we would live to regret. As we approach, we spy a broken window in the lower story of the house. We ease ourselves through the opening and find that we are in a large hallway with an ornate staircase. Large sheets cover the furniture and cobwebs span across every gap. A dusty portrait of a man hangs over the fireplace. There is an eerie silence and a chill runs down my spine. Pat goes over to the portrait and looks up at it with curiosity. It feels like the man in the picture is staring at us. I call Pat to look at this. He comes up to me and asks what has happened. I point up. Pat gasps in awe. A long winding staircase looks down on our tiny figures. I take another look at the man’s picture. It looks like the eyes have moved. I try to hide my fear. The red carpet is musty as we walk on it, dust flying up. We finally reach the first floor. There seem to be another 100 floors above us. I look at a blank wall in front of me. Pat and I are confused. What is happening? Is this a trick? Hundreds of questions go through my head at once. Suddenly my eyes fall on a scary looking gargoyle. I examine it carefully. It seeps to beckon me forward. I see a spherical hole in its gum. Pat exclaims! I whizz around. He has found what looks like a series of marbles, and also a riddle. I look the piece of old crumpled paper. Though the writing is neat, IT IS WRITTEN IN BLOOD!  It states:

‘If thou dare solve this riddle,

Then thou will get out as quick as a fiddle.

But this is what ye means to say,

This house is no child’s play.

Pick a marble at thou own risk,

Thou might get into a twist.

Choose the one with gleaming lines,

If not, then pay the price.

With the gargoyle, it should look right,

If not, then thou is up for a fright!’

We both gulp. Pat and I both know how high the consequences can get. We both search for the right one, being cautious that we don’t trip and knock the wrong marble off its stand. Which one can it be? I see a marble with black gleaming lines, near the wall. It also matches the shape and colour of the hole in the gargoyle’s gum. I flex my fingers, deciding whether or not to pick the marble up. Part of me tells me not to, but my curiosity takes over. I pick it up. Suddenly I start to fall into a room. I shout for help but the floor has already reformed. Will I ever get out…?

Aadi Gupta

Poem on himself.....

His uncle’s eyes,

His mother’s smile,

His grandpa’s mouth,

His father’s style.

His cousin’s hair,

His brother’s dreams,

His grandma’s chin,

So it seems…

Unlucky little guy,

He has a reason to cry.

He’s not very unique,

Not even a peek!

                                              By Aadi Gupta

Moving House

BANG!! The modal car smashed into the wall and cracked in two.                                                                                               

“It’s not fair!” screamed Tom.                                                              

Tom hated moving house. Moving house did NOT go with Tom. Especially moving to a new school. Everybody treated him as a toy when he was new to Saint Bernard’s. Now he had to go to old Q.E. which was probably going to be even worse. Tom had so many friends and it was hard to make such loyal ones, but he had to move to Burnham, where he was going to live in a house about ten times smaller than his current one.       

                                                                 

Tom’s mind floated back:                

Tom walks through the large doors of Saint Bernard’s. There is a large noise of laughter in the background. Tom walks forward cautiously. He gets shoved around, as if unnoticed. A big group of boys appear and everyone - but me - scatter away quickly. I do not notice them and, still in awe, walk forward. I hear the distant sound of whispering. Suddenly I see a big hand approach my face. Thanks to my quick reflexes I dodged it. The boys laugh. My eyes widen and I am baffled. What are they laughing at? I should be laughing. One of the boys picks my bag and throws all the contents on the floor. There is an ‘oooo’ coming from my future fellow mates. Luckily for me the bell rings, but there is still more to come…                                                                

Tom shook the thought out of his mind. He had to somehow convince his parents that leaving was a really bad idea, but how?                                                                                             

“Tom?” called mum, “It’s time for dinner.”                     

Tom stormed downstairs. He sat at the table, not talking to anyone. His annoying brother (James) loved moving and even worse, love to make Tom angry. And he knew just what to say at this moment to stir the environment up.                                              

 “Tom. You’re quiet today.”                                                                                 

Tom didn’t answer.James continued. “Aren’t you excited about moving? Even more friends! It’s going to be so much fun.”      

                                               

That was it. Tom said something resembling to zip your mouth, but that weren’t his exact words since if I wrote them, your parents would probably throw away this book and not let you read it till your 13-15 years old. Anyhow, after that no one said a word. Tom ate his dinner quietly and then, without saying goodnight, went to bed.

Tom couldn’t sleep that night. He had to think up a way of convincing his parents to not move to Burnham. Tom suddenly jumped out of bed and turned his lamp on. He put a new piece of paper on his desk and started writing speeches to convince his parents. It took him until about 1:00, but he was pretty impressed with his results. He still had to think when to deliver the speech and which one. He only had five days left. Tom went back to sleep, only waking up at 13:00. Tom didn’t sleep well and it was obvious by the colour of the skin under his eyes. He got dressed and walked downstairs to find everybody was waiting for him.                             

“Where were you? We were all so worried,” mum said.                               Luckily, James wasn’t there. On Saturday’s he had tuition from 12:00 to 17:00. That was a relief. Tom had breakfast hungrily as it was so late.

That day all Tom did was wonder about how on earth he was going to convince his parents not to move. He tried looking through the speeches he wrote but they looked like scribbles, probably because he wrote during the middle of the night.  Tom tried really hard to make new ones but his mind kept on going blank. All he could do now was: 1. Pray, 2. Pray, 3. Pray and 4. Hope. What could Tom do? It was useless to try anything now. Tom tried forgetting it for the next few days, but it troubled him too much, so he didn’t.

Four troubling days later:                                                                           

It was moving day and Tom was really lethargic. What could he do now? All his efforts had gone in vain. Tom and his family hauled the luggage into the car as they got ready for the long journey to London. Tom nearly started crying but he was determined not to or James would never stop taunting him. The car spluttered into life. They were nearly half way there when their state agent left a voice message.  

                                                                                                      

It was, “Hello. I’m calling to inform you that there is a minor problem in your house. This problem will prevent you from moving in for at least another five months. The problem is that there is a roof leakage. If this leakage becomes major then the surveyors will have no choice but to wreck the house. Sorry for the short notice and the inconvenience it may have caused. Jill.”                                                                                                 

Tom let out a silent ‘yessss’. But inside he knew that this would only keep his family from moving for less than one year, but at least he could relax till then. But would that prevent his family from looking for another house…???

                                                                             Aadi Gupta