My Poems

I want to show you some of the poems I've written, over my primary school years. The first one, I've got here was for an assignment, and a competition for ANZAC day, which I won.

They Should Be Remembered

The war is dirty and hard, unless you play the right card,

You have to be careful where you step,

The gunshots come and go, the noise has a flow,

But it's still very deafening all the same.

Everyone afraid and angry, wishing they were clean for tea,

Not knowing what will happen at the stroke of a finger,

The land is full of traps, through lots of dirty laps,

The space is unsafe to walk alone.

When we look back and remember, we shall never forget a member,

Of the cunning and bold fighters of war,

Lest we forget, so do not fret,

Because we are free from war thanks to them.

We may forget and move forward, but they should be remembered,

Because they showed great boldness in the war.

Your smile, should last a while,

Be thankful that we're free, because of them.  

-Written by Rachel Tapscott

This one I did in my spare time in class. I did it about a unit we were working on about the gold rush.

Every Man and His Dog

Written by Rachel Tapscott

The journey of the ages, not getting any wages,

The only friend a dog stepping by his side.

Wild and windy weather, seemed like it would last forever,

As the days turned into weeks, then months, then years.

Wishing to go home, coming on this journey became unknown,

Until he felt into his pocket once more.

A notice torn and crumpled, reminded him as he grumbled,

The reason was to search for shiny gold.

Finally he saw the sight, couldn't be mistaken in broad daylight,

The canvas triangles arrived and stretched before him.

Picks and shovels were demanded, the that's what the people were handed,

by the merchants working every second of the day.

The crowd stretched for miles, as for dirt, piles and piles,

Every man and his dog had arrived.

The constable was shouting, though he also sounded doubting,

For the people didn't want to go away.

He started setting up hiss tent, then joined the rest as he went,

to join the queue of people crowded near the stores.

He thought it may be best, just to join the rest,

the merchants had another man to serve.

As hard as this experience was, he still found the course,

The gold was awaiting him at this moment.

As dawn turned into dusk, he seemed to be out of luck,

For the gold that he dreamed of hadn't shown.

Through the canvas the light shone, the sleepy dog it crept upon,

As the pick and shovel made it's way out of the tent.

Months passed on, and finally one day, the digger had to say,

"Come on, let's go home," to his dog.

As he walked gloomily back to the tent, the digger suddenly went

"Eureka! I've struck gold upon this land!"

With the gold nugget in his hand, he walked across the land,

Home to show off his new fortune to the town.