Here is a poem about an Alien Object. Can you guess what it is?
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Its wires running up and down are very, very tangled,
Its little silver wheels are ever so mangles,
I flick its switch on at the wall,
And see its motor turn,
I put my hand on the board, and suddenly feel it burn!
From up the top, I see its string,
Slowly curving down,
A tiny pattern of bright colours,
Remind me of a Clown.
The object right in front of me is something clearly strange,
It makes me sit and stroke my chin,
It's making me deranged!
I’ve come to decide that this object must be of importance,
How fast it works, how good it looks,
It was definitely made for performance.
Then suddenly after hours of staring,
The truth of the object hits me.
It must have come from outer space,
Or it might just hold a message, from another kind of race.
Actually, could it have come from somewhere near?
I’ll be scratching my head on this one forever, I fear.
Written by
Chayse Sheather, yr5, Brisbane Grammar School.