Clacton County High School's English Department celebrated 'Shine Week' with a 'Writer In Residence'. Local poet, Martin Newell led various workshops for students across the year groups. The sessions included Lyric writing, Performance Poetry workshops with Year 9 students and a day spent with Year 8 Gifted and Talented on an ‘Ode to CCHS’.

Chris Simpson My Great Escape

Crackkkkk! Sounded a broken window at the end of the garden.
“Ooops…..” Squealed a small skinny boy.
“Louis, you idiot!” Shouted a dark haired boy.
“Sorry, Chris!” Muttered Louis. “Miss-hit it”
“What we going to do now?” Piped up one of Chris’s mates.
“Well! Seeing as we don’t have the ball” Chris looked sharply at Louis “Fancy going into the cellar?”
“B-but you said it’s h-haunted!” Stammered Louis.
“I was joking!” Laughed Chris. “Come on guys”

Chris Simpson My Great Escape

Crackkkkk! Sounded a broken window at the end of the garden.
“Ooops…..” Squealed a small skinny boy.
“Louis, you idiot!” Shouted a dark haired boy.
“Sorry, Chris!” Muttered Louis. “Miss-hit it”
“What we going to do now?” Piped up one of Chris’s mates.
“Well! Seeing as we don’t have the ball” Chris looked sharply at Louis “Fancy going into the cellar?”
“B-but you said it’s h-haunted!” Stammered Louis.
“I was joking!” Laughed Chris. “Come on guys”

The deep, dark burgundy apple lay on the smooth oak table, just waiting for someone to eat it. Then Simon, a tall, fat man plodded along, the look of hunger on his face. A plump smile spread across his face as the exquisite apple came into view; he laid his heavy fingers on the apple greedily and lifted it to its face. As he did its juicy aroma strengthened, and he took a second to admire it. He sunk his sharp white teeth into its hard and cold skin, like a vampire feeding. It dug up a large, delicious chunk of the apple as his teeth dug it out and tipped it into his mouth.

An Ode to Aberfan

"Messenger: first of all, in the plainest language, the children are dead.
Chorus: Our children are dead and the coal board is to blame.

Messenger: Autumn morning saw an unpredictable disaster,
What was to happen that day, no one had imagined.
Over the years, the spring that sat there had corroded,
And the weather weakened the slagheap.
Coal dust and rocks became heavy and slipped,
Taking upon them, the fate of those children.
In the school everything was as usual,
Some children learnt while some others played, on that day in 1966.

The inspirational setting of historic Creswell Crags is providing the back-drop for "The Meadows" - an ambitious week-long festival of creativity for Shine week, featuring over 800 talented pupils from 24 schools all over Bolsover, Ashfield and Mansfield engaging in a number of different activities including dance, art and creative writing.

Keanah in Year 1 retold the story of Jack and the Beanstalk in her own words.

an english assignment

Regeneration

It was just a normal day in L.A and Max Power was walking Home from school. When he turned the corner, there was something red and orange in the distance.
Max squinted his eyes and started to walk faster and faster and faster. Then Max started you run. He was running as fast as a wild boar chasing his pray.

My Great Escape

My name is Bart. No not Bart Simpson!
My name is Bart Sampson I am 11 years old and I live in a quiet North Yorkshire village called Hunmanby.
HUNMANBY was torn apart by the Magna Carta being burnt...