Port Waikato Camp Yrs 5/6

Our Year 5 and 6 children had a great time at Port Waikato Camp.  Below are some samples of the children’s writing from camp and a photo slider display.

The Mud Fight!
the mud is slime dripping down my back
The mud is sticky quicksand underneath my feet
The mud fight is a battleground with mud flying everywhere
The gooey mud is like bubble gum stuck all over my body
The mud is like the wet rain dripping onto my stomach
By Paku Tainui, Year 6




Archery is an arrow of perfection whizzing towards the bulls eye
Archery is a poised bow, arrow locked in place ready to strike
Archery is an exhilarated feeling
Archery ids a panther coiled ready to strike
Archery is a bird spreading its wings ready for flight
Archery is a tiger leaping over a log
Archery is a falcon dive bombig a sparrow
Archery is a phoenix torching his enemies
Archery is a dragon skimming the skies
Archery is a lone elf soaring through a field of flowers
Archery is a stag being chased through the forest
Archery is a dolphin gliding under the water to paradise
Archery is like a searing fire ready to ashen anyone in its path
Archery is an icy wind freezing the rocks
By Havannah Wild, Year 6




“Here I go,” I say in my head.  Are you sure you will catch me if I fall?  I bend my legs, one foot behind the other as I begin to walk down the big abseiling wall.  “Will I fall?” I say to myself again.  Then I froze.  There was a big drop.  A tear drop slipped down my face.  The butterflies in my tummy were going mad!! I got back up and kept going down the mountain. The little stones fell out from underneath my feet.  “Aww I’m going to slip again!” I think to myself.  “Go Le-Toya” I hear in a little voice.  It was Miss Morrison.  Then it happened again.  The butterflies were back!  I finally got to to the end and knew I could do it again.
By Le-Toya Pearce, Year 6

Mud Fight
Slap, smack, ow mud slapping against my skin.
The mud is a steam train heading for my back.

The mud is a pre-attack.
The mud is shooting me like a bullet zooming through the air, mud flying getting in my eyes.
Ow water in my eyes trying not to cry I keep going because I am at the front of the war.
Having fun.
Mud slapping against my back.  It feels like stones hitting me.  Fear running through my body as I wait for the next attack.
By Ben Birt, Year 6