The Magic Box

The children of 5th and 6th  have been studying poetry this week and have written the following poems.

The Magic Box

I will put in my box

The touch of of an Irish primary school on my life

So brief, yet so important

And bind to it the memory of what had gone before.


And I shall put in my box,

The smell of the sweet flowers

Forever cursed to be hidden by thorns of gorse

And the day I first set sight upon the doors of Rahan.


And I shall put in my box,

Every piece of art I ever made within the walls,

In comparison with all I made to be scanned and sent there;

And the first taste of my lunch on the first day of school.


And I shall put in my box,

The sadness of failure,

With the annoyance of frustration,

And the joy when something better arises from the two.


And I shall put in my box,

The beautiful taste of the homemade curry,

And the feeling that we made it, that made it so much better,

And a single note from every school choir trip.


And I shall put in my box,

The joy of children going swimming,

Mingled with the anticipation of those who never did,

And every fleck of astro turf that stuck to our well-loved ball.


And I shall put in my box,

The sight of a playground through a child’s eyes,

Beneath all that we sung within the school;

And all of what we did, when we did it purely for fun


My box is fashioned from stories,

And answers and questions and puzzles,

With a lock and a key

both hidden away in my diary.


And my box will be filled with memories,

That I shall surf on like a wild sea,

Washing up and resting on,

Isles formed of peaceful thoughts.

The Magic Box

      I will put in my box

The laughter and the memories

I have of Rahan.


I will  put in my box 

All the baking we did 

During the years 


My box is fashioned from

Fire and copper with

Chestnuts in the corner 


I shall do many activities

In my box

And play with friends


When Summer comes

I shall put my box away

Till next September

The Magic Box

I will put in the box…

 the grand green cardigan from my uniform,

 The steam from the kettle boiling every five minutes,

 The taste of sweet treats from every bake sale.

I will put in the box…

A teacher trying to teach her rowdy students, 

a fresh sip of liquid after football,

 the never ending supply of chrome books.

I will put into the box…

The smell of pencil parings,

 the last assembly speech by a principal and the first goal of a game of soccer.

My box is fashioned from grass, ivy and acorns,

with a sun on the lid and Maths problems in the corners,

it’s hinges are English copies.

I shall run in my box, on the astroturf playing with my friends

and then wake up in class to realize it was all a dream. 

My Magic Box

I will put into my box

The swish of  the flag as I entered the gate.  

Fire from  the children as they pushed  through the door.

As the tip of my pen touched the paper.

I will put into my box

The sounds of the children as they play. 

Sounds from the trees as the sway in the breeze.

And the sound of the school choir as we sang with glee.


I will put into my box

All the friends that I have made.

And the memories that I had with them.

And the times that we had when we were playing together. 

I will put into my box

The ticking of the clock as we watch it go by.

The sounds of the birds singing as we finish our work.

And the teacher teaches us what we have to learn. 

My box is fashioned from diamonds and gold and silver

With flowers on the lid and secrets in the corners.

Its hinges are made of friendship and love.  

 I shall dance in my box

On the hills of fermoy ,

Then go back to school to learn some more.