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Comhghairdeas mór le Jasmine Ní Raghallaigh

Big congratulations to Jasmine 

Jasmine Ní Raghallaigh

An Unforgettable Nightmare


I opened my eyes and saw nothing but darkness.I slowly stood up as as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.I turned around and I could see tress everywhere.I could tell it was a forest.I didn't know why I was here and how I got here.I turned around to see someone calling my name and running towards me.As they got closer I realised it was my friend Kate,to my relief.


We trudged through the forest hoping to find a way out.After what seemed like hours we gave up and sat on the ground."Did you see that?,Kate asked."See what?","A pair of red glowing eyes",she said looking worried,"You must be hallucinating",I said,but then I felt heavy breathing down my neck.


We ran while branches scratched our faces and didn't stop running until the creepy laughing stopped.We looked up to see a maze upon us.As we walked in we could see dead leaves moving around as if the wind was blowing them yet there was no wind.


Later on we heard tapping near our feet to see a hand tightly grip onto Kate's ankle.She looked up in terror before she got dragged away,screaming.I ran after her but as soon as I turned the corner she was nowhere to be seen.Just dead leaves blowing around.I stood there panicking and started to run once I heard the laughing again.The laughing got closer and closer until I reached a dead end.Then it stopped.All you could hear was my heavy breathing as I stood facing the wall."What a lovely treat" said the voice coming closer to me.I bravely  turned around and it smiled,showing its white teeth and glistening blood dripping off.It widened its jaw and hovered above me. That's when I woke up,sweat dripping down my face.I looked at my alarm was 7:59 am. I got ready for school and as I was walking I looked over to the woods I lived beside,and I swear I saw a pair of red glowing eyes,watching my every move.

Dulce et Decorum Est 

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.


1. Where is the poem set and what is the poem about?

2. Give two examples of alliteration in the poem.

3. Give two examples of simile in the poem.

4. What happens to a soldier who did not receive a gas mask?

5. The final line 'dulce et decorum est pro patri mori' translates to it is good and honourable to die for your country. Do you agree? Give reasons for your answer.

Recount Writing

An Elephant in my Room by Róisín Ní Mhuirigh

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

W. B. Yeats1865 - 1939

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
by William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud 
That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 
When all at once I saw a crowd, 
A host, of golden daffodils; 
Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 
Continuous as the stars that shine 
And twinkle on the milky way, 
They stretched in never-ending line 
Along the margin of a bay: 
Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 
The waves beside them danced; but they 
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: 
A poet could not but be gay, 
In such a jocund company: 
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought 
What wealth the show to me had brought: 
For oft, when on my couch I lie 
In vacant or in pensive mood, 
They flash upon that inward eye 
Which is the bliss of solitude; 
And then my heart with pleasure fills, 
And dances with the daffodils.

The Poison Tree

by William Blake

I was angry with my friend; 

I told my wrath, my wrath did end. 
I was angry with my foe: 
I told it not, my wrath did grow. 

And I waterd it in fears, 
Night & morning with my tears: 
And I sunned it with smiles, 
And with soft deceitful wiles. 

And it grew both day and night. 
Till it bore an apple bright. 
And my foe beheld it shine, 
And he knew that it was mine. 

And into my garden stole, 
When the night had veild the pole; 
In the morning glad I see; 
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.


1. What is the poem about?

2. What is a metaphor?

3. What metaphor is used in the poem?

4. What do you think has angered the poet?

5. What is the message in the poem?

Reports should be organised under the following headings

1. Title

2. Classification

3. Description

4. Time/ Place

5. Dynamics

6. Summarising Commenting


Tara Nic Lochlainn writes a very ggod report on hair using the following headings.

6th class hair

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost


Whose woods these are I think I know.   
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   
My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near   
Between the woods and frozen lake   
The darkest evening of the year.   
He gives his harness bells a shake   
To ask if there is some mistake.   
The only other sound’s the sweep   
Of easy wind and downy flake.   
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.


1. Where is the poem set?

2. The poet uses lots of examples of imagery in the poem.  Which is your favourite and why?

3. What is the tone in the poem?

4. Repetition is a technique used in the poem.  Where is it used and why is so effective?

5. What do you think are the promises that the poet has made?

Sticks and Stones

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

but words can also hurt me.

Stones and sticks break only skin,

while words are ghosts that haunt me.

Slant and curved the word-swords fall,

It pierces and sticks inside me.

Bats and bricks may ache through bones,

but words can mortify me.

Pain from words has left its' scar,

on mind and hear that's tender.

Cuts and bruises have not healed,

it's words that I remember.


by Rudy Redfort




  1. What is the poem ‘Sticks and Stones’ about?
  2. What do you think has happened to the author?
  3. Find two examples of alliteration in the poem.
  4. What is the message in the poem?
  5. Draw comparisons between this poem and the novel ‘Wonder’ by R.J Palacio.

Song of the Witches: “Double, double toil and trouble”

By William Shakespeare


(from Macbeth)


Double, double toil and trouble; 
Fire burn and caldron bubble. 
Fillet of a fenny snake, 
In the caldron boil and bake; 
Eye of newt and toe of frog, 
Wool of bat and tongue of dog, 
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, 
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing, 
For a charm of powerful trouble, 
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. 
Double, double toil and trouble; 
Fire burn and caldron bubble. 
Cool it with a baboon's blood, 
Then the charm is firm and good.


  1. List all the items that have been added to the cauldron.
  2. Shakespeare uses lots of rhyme in this poem. Find one example of rhyme in the poem.
  3. Where does Shakespeare use simile in the poem?
  4. Find an example of alliteration in the poem.
  5. Why do you think the witches are brewing this potion?  (At least 3 sentences)

Narrative Writing


Pupils have been looking at and practising Narrative Writing (also known as Story Writing).

Pupils examined the features of good narrative writing in the story 'The King with Dirty Feet'.


Golden Rules of Narrative Writing

Always plan your story 
Use a maximum of 3/4 characters
Give character descriptions
 Use the past tense
Use descriptive language to create images
Magic number 3
Use Sentence Starters


List of Sentence Starters




















In any event...


















Shortly after...





Look below for the examples of good story writing.

Míle buíochas le Shauna Nic Ghiollárnath, Michael Ó Bradáin agus Sarah Ní Mhaoldhomhnaigh.

These three pupils wrote fantastic stories!


The Young Inventor by Shana Nic Ghiollárnath

Trouble with the Rain by Michael Ó Bradáin

The Rainforest by Sarah Ní Mhaoldhomhnaigh



Blackberry Picking

by Séamus Heaney


Late August, given heavy rain and sun

For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.

At first, just one, a glossy purple clot

Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.

You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet

Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it

Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for

Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger

Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots

Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.

Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills

We trekked and picked until the cans were full,

Until the tinkling bottom had been covered

With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned

Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered

With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.


We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.

But when the bath was filled we found a fur,

A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.

The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush

The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.

I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair

That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.

Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.


What is the poem about?

In the poem, Heaney recalls a time when he and his friends were sent to pick blackberries. He describes the beauty of the blackberries and how sweet they tasted.

The tone of the poem though changes. Heaney remembers the sense of disappointment he and his fellow blackberry-pickers felt when they discovered that the berries had fermented and a fungus was growing on the fruit. He says that this made him sad, and he came to realise that this would always happen: soon after the berries had been picked, they would go rotten.



Poetry Techniques

  • Alliteration: "bleached our boots"
  • Similie: "Like thickened wine" 
  • Imagery: "rat-grey fungus"

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