The Roomful of Poetry Emporium
by Willow Class, SWW

In The Room Of Owls

I walked in the room of owls, and the walls started to hoot.

Feathers covered everything in a blanket of brown; mice filled the dinner bowl.

Great wing spans hugged the chairs, tipping them forwards and back.

In the corners, trees with massive holes sprouted through the golden pink carpet.

Terrible talons pieced wood, gripping round the light shade.

Suddenly, green eyes turned towards me.

By Olivia SWW

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The Room of...

The Room of Depression
I cooled down the fire with my own tears, I drowned the wood but I had a spark of hope.

The Room of Memories
I saw the past of my life when the worst and the best happened at the same time.

The Room of Death
I witnessed a million deaths in seconds as I fell to a pit of magma whilst my soul was torn from my body.

The Room of Greed
I watched men sneak stolen goods as greedily as possible oblivious of me telling them to stop. 

The Room of Slumber
I slept on beds made of the best cotton duvets and pillows as midnight was enteral in this room and day would never come to me.

The Room of Discovery
In the room, I found all of histories' secrets behind it back when they hid from my brain.

by Archie

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In the room of disappearance,
people wonder where I have gone.

In the room of joy,
only smiles shine,
bright like the sun.

In the room of worry,
I hoped that no-one would notice I had snuck
food from the pantry. 

In the room of anger, 
All of my rage disappeared.

In the room of love,
I found heartache and despair.

In the room of death,
My soul drifted away.

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India

In the room of maths.

In the room of cats.

In the room of greed.

I walked in,
and I got divided in half.
I walked in,
all sums started to gather



I run through,
there is a cat waggling ready to pounce at me.
I walk in,
I get attacked with food in hand.



Bob ate all the sweets and left one to give to his mum.
A child ate all of the chocolate by himself.

By Eli

The room of King Cobras

In the room of King Cobras,
focused, calculated eyes lurk in the shadows; watching me.

The chairs hiss as I pass,
filling me with fear, worry and dread.

The sound of sandpaper scales on rough tiles is ominous.

Sinister forked tongues flick from the pipes and taps,
tasting the air to discover whether I am predator or prey.

Striped tails twist around corners,
heads are poking over work surfaces.

I catch a glint of a white fang in the corner of the room, dripping with the deadly Cytotoxic and Neurotoxic venom.

By Sebastien SWW

In the room of stone age
a dinosaur skimmed my back. 

In the room of junk
there it was.

In the room of fury
a cartoon finger's ears had steam coming out of them.

In the room of silence
a crash came from the corner.

In the room of darkness
a torch shone.

In the room of worry
the boy trembled as he handed in his homework.

In the room of love
the vicar said "I pronounce you husband and wife."

In the room of memories
I was a toddler in my mother's hands. 

In the room of electronics
the wi-fi went out.

In the room of kindness
I bought all the things from the store and gave it to the homeless

By Buster

A Poem of Couplets

In the room of chairs,
I sat on the floor.

In the room of sizzling steak,
I was on a vegan diet.

In the room of windows,
I felt lost in darkness.

In the room of quiet,
Birds screeched with joy.

In the room of books,
I read my kindle.

by Ryan

In the room of thought, love, happiness, anger and wonder filled the room, questions were being passed around and tension swooped past me.

In the room of death, the scent of dried blood and sickly-sweet odor stained my clothing, bones cracking underfoot.

In the room of VR, inhuman forms spawned; waving their 6 robotic hands and scuttling like a spider, teeth with venom of a Pumpkin tarantula.

In the room of souls, swirly black figures fly to the roof. Nails like glass, eyes as dead as a deer hunted by a lion faces screaming slowly loosing their will to be a spirit, they just want to... disappear.

In the room of slumber, the room was made of blankets, pillows and warmth. Snoring like a pig, in a deep sleep. 

In the room of horror, screams of fright lunged past the other people, groaning and rocking back and forth, faces as pale as a white mouse.

Elana