Wednesday, 26 October 2016

Hide and seek

I feel prickles stab into my back.
They are a thousand little knives sticking into -me.                
Are we quiet and still enough not to be found?
Don't talk.
Don't move.
Dont even breath.
The teacher comes closer and closer
But dodges our hiding spot 
And goes to another.
We start to huddle together,
Like a group of penguins.
Where will she go next?
Will she find us soon?
Gather together and try not to be seen.
The teacher spots people and prowls into their tree.
They shuffle down 
And return to the ground.
Hide in your blindness.
Will they give us away?
My heart is a drum pounding on my chest.
The teacher’s coming!
The teacher’s coming!
She's going to find us any second.
Don't give us away!
Everyone sounds so hushed.
Then a movement comes into sight.
She lurks into our spot,
Like a sneaky cat ready to pounce.
Don't talk.
Don't move.
She's prowling in
The Steps grow louder and louder
on the hard and bumpy ground.
“Found you!”
We all scamper out of the prickle bush
Like a bunch of rats.
We all hurry back to the meeting spot.
Whew we’re not the only ones back here.

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