Whilst the Schools have been closed, students and staff alike have been working hard behind the scenes to keep house activities and competitions continuing online.Over at Stamford High School, students and staff have been given the opportunity to enter one competition per week.Each entry is sent to the Heads of House, with three winners chosen and presented to the SLT, who choose the final order, as per usual house competition procedure, and the staff entry chosen by the Year 13 House Prefects.Below are the winners into the poetry competition from Cavell House. Please scroll to read each poem for yourself.
Sophie F, Y9
An Ode from the CoronavirusI never meant to hurt you,Just to remind you all of what you have neglected.Family and friends had become meaningless,Heartless screens were mimicking your loved ones,Even emotions became repressed to a selection of minute images. Technology ripped all of you away from my benevolent grasp,Replacing it with judgement and competition.You had an insatiable urge to isolate yourselves,Choosing to encompass your lives in machines, instead of people.All I did was give you what you wanted… Now you slander me, abhor my actions.How was I supposed to know your words were facetious?Maybe I could’ve guessed by the pretences you perform on social media.Your worlds are full of falsity,So I gave you all one universal focus. I made you see outside of your microcosms,Experience threat and fear.For the first time in a while,You have been reminded of how precarious your lives are.How none of you are invincible. My best decision was infecting the Prime Minister,Proving potency and prosperity are worthless.In the end, you are all reliant on each other,Something you should’ve realised long ago.Maybe then there would be no war, poverty, suffering… Before, you desired a life without meaning,Yearning for superficial fulfilment on the internet.However now, living online is no novelty,It is your reality.Your foreseeable future. Perhaps now you will consider my wishes,You will combat climate change,Remove yourselves from your bubbles of privilege,Look to those worse off than you, treat them as your family.They are no longer “not your problem”. Finally, remember what I have taught you,What your values ought to be.You didn’t learn after the Spanish flu,So remember what matters:Health, family, friends and community. BTW, how’s your FOMO now? Lol.Back to Top
Phoebe R-R, Y10
For 20 seconds wash Your hands,Change plans,2 meter rule,No school. People are sick,Adapting quick,Stay home save lives,Everyone panic buys. Remote learning,Social yearning,Short on toilet roll,Go out for a stroll. Can’t hug grandma,She’s being a star,Thursdays clapping,Afternoon napping. Staying mentally healthy,Getting exercise is the key,Bake a cake take a photo,Learning new skills give it a go. Follow government advice,Furloughed at what price,What will happen I can’t guess,Stay home, save lives, protect the NHS.Back to Top
Freya I, Y11
Walking past the school, I remember the last day.Feelings were high: joy, tears and anticipationWere thick in the air. “What happens next?” We all asked.Nobody knew. Not even the teachers. With vague lessons and teachers joining the chaos,The school had become a zoo with no zookeepers.We scoffed the fish and chips we were given at lunchtime,Giving ourselves indigestion in the process. Rushing through the corridors with our hair downAnd top buttons undone, we raced to say goodbyeTo our friends. This could be the last time we see themIn weeks, maybe months. So we make the most of it. Now it is empty. Void of life. A soulless place.The windows are dark and cold beneath my fingers.It’s hard to believe that it was once full of friendsHugging and laughing, people enjoying themselves. It’s hard to remember any of those things butSoon this will be over. And we will want to goBack to school, even though this was unheard ofA few months ago. And the laughter will return.Back to Top
Staff: Mr Murphy
Sitting here at homeWith no place to walk, nor roamI am compelled to thinkAnd ruminate and sadly to drink……..Many glasses of water to rehydrateAfter performing Joe Wicks that my Children both hateTeaching lessons on TeamsAs my clothes get tighter and burst at the seamsWhy did I choose to grow a beardWhen my family all think I look a bit weirdEven my dog socially distances herself by choiceShe ignores my implores, my whistle, my voiceI am not in the habit of writing poetry oftenAnd I apologise if I whitter along and muscles in my fingers gradually begin to softenSo I will leave you with a biological fact nowThat a ruminant has four stomachs and goes by the name cowWhat on earth Murphy – what a weak finishIm sorry but my vocabulary is starting to diminishSo I’ll say adieuFrom me to youSee you hopefully back in school soonI miss you all, much love your deputy Head goon To read about further house events, please click
here. 