Write on Norfolk: Winners of the age eight to 10 category
PUBLISHED: 06:45 03 October 2016
Copyright: Archant 2016
Here are the three prize winners in the age eight to 10 category of the Write on Norfolk creative writing competition.
Gold, Sophie Lines, eight, Cringleford Primary
I was sitting reading a book in the forum library when I heard a kind of swishing sound. I turned to have a look and I saw a wing flapping behind a bookshelf. “I wonder what that is”, I said to myself, and went to investigate. There, behind the book case, was a bright colourful Go Go Dragon. The dragon turned around and asked me “What’s your name?” I was lost for words and eventually replied, “errr Sophie.” Opening her wings as wide as she could and taking a bow she said “My name is Colourburst and I could do with some help Sophie.”
Colourburst explained that unless more children read books Norfolk would become as grey as dust. “You see,” said the dragon sadly, “when children read books their imagination runs wild and this fills the air with joy and colour. Without it our market will lose its stripy colours and our golden rapeseed fields will fade. Too many children are watching television and playing video games.”
I felt angry and heart broken. “I’ll do anything to save Norfolk!” I said. I hopped on Colourburst’s back and said “Go Go dragon fly to the BBC”, and with that Colourburst flew up into the air and flew me to BBC office. I told the people working there it was an emergency and I needed to make an advert really quickly. So, as quickly as I could, I put an advert on the television that said “Read books, read books, it’s good for you and Norfolk so switch you’re gadgets off”. While I was making the advert Colourburst was making leaflets. When Colourburst and I where finished I hopped on her back and we posted the leaflets through everybody’s door. “Well done Colourburst, I hope this works” I exclaimed happily.
Colourburst flew me home and I went to sleep. The next morning I had some breakfast and met Colourburst in the library. We were glad to see the library so full of people reading books but there was no room for us to sit down so we picked a pile of books and sat on the steps outside. When I looked up I saw a rainbow shooting across the sky and I had never seen the stripy market roofs shine so brightly. I knew our job was done. I smiled broadly and threw my arms around Colourburst but she felt cold and hard like a statue.
Every time I walk past Colourburst on my way to the library I remember our mission fondly and if I stare hard enough I can even convince myself that she winks.
Silver, Gabriella Best, eight, Shouldham Primary Academy
Norfolk, the place, where I love to be,
Big skies and countryside and close to the sea.
On our way to King’s Lynn, to do some shopping,
Around the roundabout with the bunnies hopping.
With it’s busy port and Captain Vancouver history,
Old and beautiful buildings, some full of mystery.
Lunch with my family down on the quay,
Is one of my favourite places to be.
A happy, fun town by the sea,
Hunstanton is the place to be.
I run on the beach and take off my socks,
I love the hot sand and stripy rocks.
The lighthouse towers above me on high,
Seagulls dive and swoop from the sky.
Although the lifeboat is often called out to sea,
It’s still one of my favourite places to be.
Wells Next the Sea, another favourite place to be.
Through the pine woods, I love the smell,
Will the tide be out or in? Only time will tell.
Amongst the colourful beachhuts galore,
I love to lay on the white sandy floor.
Down on the quay, I just have to say.......
Crabbing and fish and chips, the end to a perfect day!
Norfolk is the place to be,
If you have not been, you must come and see.
Migrating birds, off to far away places,
Big blue skies and open spaces.
With Holkham and Sandringham fit for a Queen,
Norfolk is special, it’s beauty must be seen.
Bronze, Hannah Sydney, 10, Norwich High School
I scanned the beach.
I was alone.
A solitary figure in the receding light, carefully proceeding towards the site
of the footprints, on the now famous Happisburgh beach.
I advanced, right on top of them now, waiting to feel it.
The same sensation I felt five years ago, on this very spot.
And there it was, the presence of another, yet not wholly there.
I whispered: ‘What are you? Ghosts?’, though I did not expect a reply.
Yet I was given one.
It was not a sound, it was a thought, in my own head, but not from me:
‘We are no ghosts. We are souls, from 800,000 years ago. We stay on this site, waiting for a soul like yours to come alone, and listen to our story.’
I waited, in case they said any more.
When they were silent, I asked: ‘Tell me a name for me to call you by, for you must have one.’
Now a different voice spoke, telling me their name was Vercingedotta, and they were 7 years old. Her father was Haermid, the 23-year-old leader.
I was intrigued by their presence, for they had not talked to me
when I was 5.
I just stood there, in the footprints of Vercingedotta, contemplating existence.
After what must have been three minutes but what felt like forever, I realised I had to go.
I promised to come in another five years, and haltingly meandered away, silently pondering the vanishing cliffs crumbling above the beach.
In years to come, the whole village would be washed away.
Would the footprints of my friends be eroded too?
And is sound really there if only you hear it?
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