Poetry

I am from…

I am from the old leather seats of the wave dancer,

Slicing through the glassy water of the Twizel lakes.

I’m from the long arms of the trees in the dinosaur park,

that grew and shook in the afternoon breeze.

I’m from the sandy beach walks with Dad,

and the 4 scoop ice creams from the dairy down the street.

I’m from the Sunday milkshake maker,

and the nightly cuddles with Donkey.

I’m from the courageous Browns originated from the speedy Te-Huna’s,

from the overexcitement of going to cousins houses for dinner

I’m from the long line of netballers and basketballers,

and from the family with the cat allergies,

I’m from the stay-up-and-practice-sport,

from the “dig it ins!” And the “keep goings!”

I am from Great Grandads courage

and Nana and Grandma’s love and passion to all relatives sport.

From the sweet mouth watering Māori hangi

and the good’ old sausages and bread, sizzling on the BBQ.

I’m from the early mornings of Weet-bix triathlons

and the sweet comfort of socks and scuffs.

I’m from the good times that make me laugh,

and the horrific times when it feels like God has thrown me out the the world.

I’m from the friends and family,

From the sensational and luxurious place,

That I call home.

By Kiana Brown

I am From......

I am from a floppy necked soft toy tigger my Aunty gave when I was 1,

from skateboards and scooters lying all through the hallway.

I am from the monsters and toys lurking under my bed,

And all the colourful artworks covering the dinner table.

I am from the trees that the cricket ball got stuck in,

whose arms and hands hid the ball in the branches.

I am from the pink toy phone my brother broke

And the wii console we played daily.

From Garmonsway and Bamford.

I am from my mums competitiveness and my dads high expectations,

And from my whole family’s amazing taste in music.

From the strange things I do for fun

I am from playing on playgrounds with friends and family.

I am from baking with Nana and fishing with Grandad.

From mouthwatering shepherds pie and tasty soup.

From Great Grandad helping build the titanic,

And from a second cousin being the first to fight Joseph Parker

I am from these moments good or possibly bad they are all worth remembering.

By Taylor Garmonsway