Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Descriptions of Oxford

Here are some beautiful descriptions of Oxford written by children in year five. We hope you enjoy them!
Miss Hilton

I looked out the window and saw the Bodleian library, big and grand. I saw the narrow streets lined with daffodils and tulips. I was looking at a spring day soon to be summer.

South parks was full of boys running around playing football and girls cart wheeling around the pitch. Mum’s trying to lay out a picnic while cradling a baby’s. Dads struggling over the tangled up string of a kite.

We went on an autumn walk. There were lots of colourful leaves everywhere we looked. Red, brown and gold. We sat on the dusty bench and got out our sketch pads, pencils and paints. Then we got to work.

I peered outside and saw hundreds of tiny soft snowflakes fluttering to the ground. The silence is wonderful. But suddenly my moment of peace is over and I see my little sister screaming as she runs around in the snow.


Oxfords evenings
The best part of the day was the evenings. When one could peer out of the window into the dark sky. Even as it drizzled or rained the feeling was magical. Sometimes you could see the moon through the maze of buildings. Often though all you could see were clouds drifting by. Then it wasn’t so magical but was still very enjoyable, those moments you couldn’t share, every body had them but they would not be shared the spires of oxford were high in the sky for a mooned or so every night the dreaming spires glinted silver in the moon light then the moon beam moved and the spires are grey as night. After that the people of oxford got tired and half a sleep already went to bed.
By Florence

Oxfords mornings
I feel free, calm and happy in the morning. When nobody is awake and no one is out. Cars drift slowly and silently the owners only half awake. No busses. No noises. Till suddenly a horn blows and the fuss and bustle have started. Busses hissing to a stop, people every where rushing to work. Alarm clocks
Ringing in every house. That’s when the day starts. Mothers are calling their children out of there dreams of frolic and fun. Fathers pulling on their jackets as they run out side. Calls and cries and kisses good bye that is when the day is ripe.

By Florence


A cool breeze blowing against your cheek. Slightly to cold to be pleasurable. Fresh green grass stretching out ahead of you. Seemingly going on for miles. Scattered trees dotted around the park. Some thin and spindly some (newly planted) some strong and sturdy, towering high. A low bustle of traffic. Honking horns and screeching brakes. Small children. Screaming, laughing, playing it. Peering into the distance you see the breath taking view of the dreaming spires. Stretching proudly up into the sky. So clear, yet far away.

The cafes are busy with long, long queues. Files are pushed hastily aside as fathers run for their lunch breaks. Dirty washing left dirty as mothers run to put on dinner. Children moan “I’m hungry”, as they struggle through their lessons. Oxford is getting ready for lunch. And then the time comes. Mothers are satisfied with a very green salad and sit down to eat. Fathers have found cafes with the presumably shortest queue. Children tuck in to that long awaited school dinner. Oxford are eating lunch.


A peaceful rush of water. Willow trees droop silently into the river as if hiding something behind their long, bendy hair. It’s your own enclosed, private world. A beautiful piece of music comes drifting towards you. Someone is having a party on their boat. The rush of water is louder now. You’re nearing a loch. The man turning the handle is old and frail. He has a long beard. Suddenly your boat seems to be sinking but you realise it’s only because you’re lowering so as to enter the next part of the river. Now you are back in your own private world. Just you, the peaceful rush of water and the silent willow trees.