Please share your poems and thoughts inspired by Causley’s poem.
135 thoughts on “Week 3: Causley “Who””
Dear Joan
There was a boy roaming,roaming around the scorching hot beach.He was alone, the whole beach was desolate. I tried to say ‘Hello’ but he didn’t respond. I didn’t have the faintest idea of where he came from, and I hadn’t known his name. His face was focusing on something, it was a book.
I saw him at day and night, reading and reading. Nobody was with him. When he moves, there is no shadow that he possessed, though the sun rose and fell on his back.
The next day, I saw him sitting on a wooden chair, and this time he was with a small girl, his sister. As I moved closer to hear the conversation, the girl called out a familiar name. It started with a ‘H’ and ended with a ‘N’. It was then when I realised that it was my name.
I really liked your adjectives and verbs which I thought were really precise. I also liked how you gave the boy a character (by saying he reads all the time) instead of him just being a figure and have no interests or personality. Well done!
I have uncounted a rather peculiar experience. Basically what happened is that i was walking by when i came across a boy who was wearing very old-fashioned clothes. When he started to walk i noticed he did not have a shadow even though the sun beamed onto his back. After that, i could tell that the harvest had been used because there was thick dust on the hedgerow. Then i tried to go near the boy and tried to ask him his name but he said his name was mine…
I’ve just walked past a river wandering why that little boy is quivering beside it. I just tried to call his name but he didn’t say what it is.I wonder were he comes from.Why do I see him at sunrise and sunset? Why would he be wearing old- fashioned clothes? I can’t see his shadow. I went over and asked him for his name and he said my name is the same as yours.
I like the way you have separated the poem into loads of questions, the reason I like this is that the poem was written in the same way. It really makes me think about why all this happens in a deeper way.
I am writing to you today because I have recently experienced something rather awesome. I have seen these beautiful buildings in the countryside and a wonderful stream that leads to the freezing Atlantic ocean. The countryside has many hedgerows covered in dust from the crops.
who is this strange boy, he is small and has now shadow and when he stepped in the river he did not get wet! why is this?
Dear Acadia,
I have experienced a really rough life… One day I saw a fine young women next to a lake, I asked her what her name was but she did not answer me. That girl I saw looked just like me, I asked her who her parents or carers were but she did not answer ; I realised that she was shy like me. That little girl went to my old house near the park. When I walked into the old house she called my mum her mum… That’s when I realised she was me , my past.
Dear Acadia,
I have experienced a really rough life… One day I saw a fine young women next to a lake, I asked her what her name was but she did not answer me. That girl I saw looked just like me, I asked her who her parents or carers were but she did not answer ; I realised that she was shy like me. That little girl went to my old house near the park. When I walked into the old house she called my mum her mum… That’s when I realised she was me , my past.
Dear Paige,
This poem is a very hard to explain I am the little lonely emotional boy that was lonely now that I have become and old tiring man I need someone to help me with my old-fashioned clothes and my lonely self I feel so lonely I need a new friend
Dear Sayeed,
I am writing to you because I always experience this feeling that I see this boy but no one else does . I am beginning to see things that were in my childhood. Every time I call him he does not answer me.He always walks down the same aisle and his shadow does not appear. he says his name every time and its the same as mine.
Dear Berkan
I am writing to you because I saw something strange things like that looking at a ball at it with a smile in his face with his mother and dad.
Why do I hear the same thing what I unexpectedly what they said about the journey so what this means I know everything with hearing so I seen this thing with everything
So Berkan so what I seen what happened even this letter I saw it before doing it I please respond me your
sincerely your Max your bro
Dear Hamza,
The other day I saw a weird little boy . I wandered who he was . I didn’t really get an answer . All I knew was that he was wearing strange old-fashioned clothes .
Why was he their every time I was there ? He took the same path home every-single time. To me he was a lonely isolated boy .
Why didn’t he cast a shadow even when the sun rises and falls before his back . I went closer and closer to hear him and he said to me that his name was my own .
Dear Jeff,
I saw a child wandering down by the side of the stream. He doesn’t seem to hear, even though I called out to him. I don’t know where he comes from, nor what his name is.
I saw him at sunrise and sunset taking, in old -fashioned clothes, in the same path as me.
Dear, Bob
I have been seeing strange things such as this young boy who has been appearing on the path that I used to walk on when I was a child,
He wore old-fashioned clothes, the exact same i used to wear. For some reason he doesn’t have a shadow even though the light shines right on him.
I went back to the beach where they said there were a lot of houses. But there wasn’t I saw him so I wanted to hear his voice but then he said he’s name is mine.
Dear Chloe,
I see that child wandering down the quivering street.Why do I see him at the sunrise and sunset. In the old fashion clothes at the same track.
Dear Jeff,
I saw a child wandering down by the side of the stream. He doesn’t seem to hear, even though I called out to him. I don’t know where he comes from, nor what his name is.
I saw him at sunrise and sunset taking, in old -fashioned clothes, in the same path as me.
I am writing to you about what happened a few moments ago- I was baffled…
In my experience, I saw a boy(who looked just like me)wandering down the side of a quivering stream. This boy would not reply to me , nor did he listen to me. What was his name?
I’ve seen him once at sunrise and sunset wearing old-fashioned clothes walking, no…floating on the same track I have been on before. Mysteriously, he does not have a shadow, even though the sun was rising and falling on his back.
The dust on the hedgerow by the great field, where the horses pull the plough, lie so thick. I could only see meadows where others think houses stand in a straight line by the riverside now. He moves like a wraith by the water, soft as the thistledown on the breeze blown. Drawing near so that I may hear him, he said his is name is my own…I personally think that I had a ‘near-death’experience, and probably saw myself in my own childhood. Please write back to me as soon as possible.What happened!?
Dear Kawthar,
Who is that child that I see walking along the classroom? Why is he always by him self? Sitting in the corner at the back all by him self were does he go at home time ? Why do I see him alone at the middle of the night and really early in the morning? Why does he move without a smile in the world? But I finally get his attention and I ask what’s his name is and he said my own.
Dear Zelda ,
I am writing to you to tell you that I’m seeing a little boy ever time I go to work . I called
him and he didn’t answer me I want to know what is your name , and where does he live
I always see him at the sunrise and sunset talking. He always wears old- fashioned clothes, the same track. Why ,when he walks I can never see his shadow.
why does the dust lie so thick on the hedgerow by the greatest field were the horse pulls the plough it make me think is he dead or am I seeing things.
Dear Naz
Who is that child in the classroom I see wandering under my chair, doing the same routine I do, but nobody see’s her?
Whenever the sun’s beaming bright from the outside but i don’t see her shadow and she was wearing the same clothes as me!
I decided to face her and she keep saying my name…
I see a child by the stream, everyday! I call him and he does not reply. Impudent, he is!
How rude…
every sunrise and sunset he is in archaic clothes, the same route every time, weird!
why do I see meadows and a stream where houses once lay?
ONCE I COME UP TO HIM HE TELLS ME THAT HIS NAME…is my own!
I think I’ve gone a bit mad.
There is this boy, and when I call to him, he doesn’t reply.
He doesn’t cast his own shadow, though the sun falls on his back.
And, worst of all, he says his name is my own.
Wait a minute…
I went to my special place,
and when I there a boy no older than twelve,
stood there and stared into the sky with despair in his eyes,
I called to him and when I did,
I waited for him to turn around,
He never did.
Dear Diary,
I see this boy walking around the stream every day. I’ve decided to make a diary to write down what had happened.
I was walking down the stream, and I saw the ghost. I called it, and he said that he had my name. I was confused at first, but I realized that he was a wraith. It was VERY confusing.
dear diary,
i looked across the field today searching for my friend,but to my suprise a white face stood before my eyes… staring with no eyes,but nonetheless he stood watching,plotting,waiting…
Dear Diary,
I see a child wandering down the side of a stream. He seems that he is deaf, or even possibly mute. I have absolutely no idea where he comes from, and what is his name?
I see him, always at sunrise and sunset. Wearing old fashioned clothes all the time. He does not cast a shadow as he walks.
The dust lies so thick on the hedge by a field where a horse pulls a plough. I only see meadows, horses now stand in a line now – BORING!!!
He moves like a wraith by the water, so softly. I draw near him so I can hear him. He told me my name was my own!
Dear Diary,
Confusion. All that goes through my head. I see him them in archaic clothes.
I call him but both morn and eve I receive no reply. No shadow to be seen; every sunrise and sunset hes there I do not know what it means.i hear him say his name. Its Abraham.
One day i when for my run then took a short cut down by the river and saw a small boy i said good afternoon he didn’t respond.Then after a while i asked whats your name and where do you come from he blanked me like i was a dog barking on the path. He wore old cloths he was interesting i didn’t have a clue.
Dear diary,
Today I saw a child wondering by the side quivering stream.
When I called to him he didnât seem to hear me.
I wonder where he came from and what his name was.
I wonder why I see him at sunrise and sunset,
taking the same track in old fashioned clothes.
He walked with no shadow even though the sun falls of his back.
Why does the dust lie so the dust lie so thick on the hedgerow?
Near the great field were the horse pulls the plough.
Why did I only see meadows, where were houses stand in line by the riverside now?
I see him moving like a wraith down by the water
Soft as a thistledown on the breeze blow.
Why did I have feelings of remembrance?
When I drew him close so I could hear him
Why did he say his name was my own?
Did I ever expect that? The truth is no.
I walked down the path and looked at the fairly normal day.
Everything was perfectly ordinary. The water churned in the stream. Meadows and fields stretched for miles. I carried on walking. Suddenly, a strange man approached me asking for my name, I told him what it was. He looked like he had seen a ghost. His eyes were wide in shock. I looked behind me in case there was something there. There was nothing. When I looked back he had disappearedâŚ
Today I saw a young boy wandering by the stream. He was wearing old-fashioned clothes, yet I felt like I had seen him somewhere before.
After some minutes of staring I walked closer to him. He was looking into the quivering stream; walking along the same path.
After sunrise he would disappear, and when sunset came along he would arrive back, walking along the same path. Yet the strangest thing was; he never had a shadow, though the sun would rise and set on his back.
One day I walked to him. I asked him his name. He told me. His name was my own. Then I realised who he was⌠My past self.
I think Iâm going mad. I keep seeing this old-fashioned, mysterious child who I see anywhere and everywhere. Heâs like shadowing ghost from the past, keeping me awake and wandering in my thoughts.
I first saw him by the shimmering riverside. I yelled over to him, but he spoke no reply. Iâm completely and utterly perplexed. When I saw him next, it was sunset, and the dazzling sun gleamed on his back, however I saw no shadow. Is this a dream? Or a supernatural reality? These visions are tantalizing me, like their trying to dissolve my mind. The young boy takes the same track at sunrise and sunset, like a loop that repeats every day.
I see crops being harvested by the farmer, and green meadows as far as the eye can see. It seems like the small huts that lay by the quivering river have disappeared, and abandoned me within this infinite cycle of time.
Why, when I asked who the boy was, did he reply with my name alone?
Your poem is really nice because you used really strong language with lots of meaning.
I also like your use of similes and metaphors, because they give a good description of the thing you were talking about!
Today I saw a child wandering around. I was curious because he didnât hear me. I was going to ask him why he had no shadow, and why he took the same track at sunrise and sunset. After I only see meadows were houses stand now by the river. I saw great fields where a horse was pulling a plough. The waves of the river, overlapping each other. I didnât know where I was as I was in the middle of nowhere. I was confused of how he could move like a wraith by the water, I ran towards him so I could hear what he was going to say. I asked him for his name… He replied with my own.
This morning I woke up looking outside my window.
A figure standing still staring at me.
Something about it I recognized.
I had to get a closer look.
Wandering around turning back the time.
The same place I used to play.
Finding houses where land used to be.
Feeling myself again like I used to.
As the wind swept me away.
Where was I and what could I see?
Then I came across the young boy.
Standing watching the twilight blue sea.
I had to know who he was but he disappeared.
I tried to look for him but no one was there.
I found my self back in my bed.
It was a dream.
The little boy was me.
The bright sun shone through the long branches of a tall spindly tree, as I rose from the damp gritty ground!
My knees were wobbling as my feet squelched in to the muddy ground. I was walking along, the leafy brown path, and I looked down and couldnât see my own shadow.
I saw a boy sitting on the old rusty bench, I shouted.
Believe it or not no response came to my ears. I was astonished by the rudeness of this little ignorant child.
As I trudged along, not knowing my directions, and then I saw an ignorant teenager smoking with his friends. I followed him back to his house to see what he was up to and I realized thatâs where I lived. I waited outside for days and then he finally came out. Me, an old man.
Today, I was walking by the stream where I go every day, when I saw a mysterious figure in old fashioned clothes wandering, wandering. He didnât respond when I called to him, though I called loud and clear. In the end, my curiosity got the better of me and I started to follow theâŚmemory, ghost, spirit, I donât know which. He cast not a shadow. As I approached the, whatever it is, he murmurs a name that is my own.I couldn’t believe my ears.
Was it a dreamâŚI will never know. But one things for certain, I will never forget the figure by the stream.
Dear diary
The river flowed under my feet and swirled around my ankleâs. The muddy ground enveloped my leather sandals on the river bed. On the other side of the river, below the willow tree weeping its morning dew. Was a boy.
His silent feet making no sound on the pillow grass, his body cast no shadow from the gentle morning sun. I shouted, I shouted in his ear yet he still does not hear.
The carpet of dust lies so thick on the hedgerow, yet in the distance a horse pulls a plough. I turned around the boy was gone but now he lay on a branch in a tree. His clothes are brown and ragged.
Suddenly the boy clutched his chest and keeled over. In an instant everything changed and houses emerged from the dark.
A Tractor rumbled past.
I bumped into a grave and saw the name was my ownâŚ
Today I saw a boy wondering down by the side of the quivering stream. He seems not to hear when I call to him, where does he came from and what is his name I see him at sunrise and sunset wearing old fashioned clothes. When he walks he cast no shadow, though the sun rise falls on his back. It seems like like the boy is not alive because he is not answering my questions and why does he say his name is my own .
I miss being young, but the harsh modern city has taken over the beautiful trees and fields they demolished my old cottage where I lived as a little boy.
Who`s that boy wondering, wondering by the flowing stream?
Why does he feel not to hear me, though he hears me shouting?
Where does he come from, and what is his name?
Why is he always standing there at sunrise and sunset and wearing the same old-fashioned clothes on the same track?
Why when he walks, does cast a shadow through the sun rise he falls on his back?
Why does dust lie thick on the hedgerow with the great field where a horse pulls the Plough? where do I see meadows, where houses stand in line by the riverside now?
Why does he feel like a wraith by a the water soft like a thistledown on the breeze blown?
Who is that child wandering, wandering down at me. I was curious because he didnât hear me. I thought to my- self. He was the same as me. Talking to him, but no answer it is like he is my shadow. Why does he say his name is mine? Why does he look like me? Who knows? Iâm shacking, as I speak but still no answer from this anonymous person. Is he going to reply or not I will never know?
I see a child wandering. Down towards the forest filled with autumnal leaves. I wonder who he is. What is his name and where does he comes from? When I call out to him, he doesnât seem to hear. He wanders along the quivering stream.
I see him at dawn and dusk, every day. He walks about, yet he doesnât cast a single shadow, wearing the same old-fashion clothes every one day.
Along where the horses plough, where the dust covers the many hedgerows. He reminds of me, this must be a dream of some sort. Where the vast meadow used to be, is now a long forever row of houses. The world has changed from how it used to be.
He moves along the edge of the water aloof by himself. The thistledown blown softly along way. When I went to him and asked his name, he said his name was my own.
Today I went to the shadowy river. I saw a young man with a black and white clothes, old fashioned at appearance.
I wondered âŚ
Who is that child, a quivering child striding past the trees, past the huts and farms.
He seems not afraid of drowning, for he walks across the river
His shadow, a mere shimmer , his eyes full of bravery and I was shocked to see him walk so close to the bank , but so far from drowning .
Why, why does he stride so far into danger so cold so brittle
His hair white with snow
This was an experience I thought of only in my furthest of dreams.
It was torture to see him nearly fall I would never walk into the river so why would he âŚ
I ask him if he needs help, he seems to cares but instead falls into the river I see him drown âŚ
Very impressive Sam and Lara. I like the way you used the structure of the original poem but add your own vivid descriptions.
It’s interesting your diary entry still seems poetic. Would you agree?
The child is walking,
down by the side of the stream.
I call down at him,
he does not respond.
How is he there, wandering,
at sunset and rise.
Thus far he has walked,
and he does not cast shadows.
And the dust lies thick,
by the great, ploughed field of crops.
I see green meadows,
where houses once stood.
He moves like a human wraith,
and name is mine.
Sorry for the late joining.I like this poem because its mysterious and also my favourite poem now.I think everyone should love this poem well as old people .I never read a poem before,but now this poem from Causley has inspired me to read more poems.
We have just read all three poems this week all of the poems have a good twist to them i especially like causley’s poem because the ending was really unexpected because we find out that it really amazing.
We have just read all three poems who is very spooky and we were a bit late joining but we have caught up but its okay mr causley yo are a great poem writter I like the spooky way
Hi my name is Mert, I’ve enjoyed week 3 Causley who the most because, at the end it has an unexpected twist.I enjoy unexpected twists the most because at the end I figured out that the ghost Is the PERSON THAT HE IS TRYING TO REACH TO
I decided to create a newspaper article based on the poem “Who”
MAN CLAIMS HE SEES HIMSELF AS CHILD
Yesterday, a man named Mr Wareberry contacted this paper claiming that he witnessed a recurring apparition in the vicinity of Hinkley in rural Leicestershire.
“It’s the strangest thing,” said Mr. W, ” I go for a walk twice a day at sunrise and sunset and I noyice the same person. It is quite vague, but I could make out that the person is male.”
After several sightings however, Mr Waterberry noticed the man had no shadow and seemed to have his own background. He explained,” There are some new cottages by the river but when he passes all I see is the fields behind them. Where do the cottages go?”
Despite his initial misgivings Mr W worked up the courage to speak to the stranger. ” I couldn’t believe my ears when he said his name. It was exactly the same as my own!”
Mr Waterberry is due to be released from hospital and will return to his maximum security retirement village.
Dear Reader,
In the evening at 5:00pm, I felt that I should stroll along the street, where I can relax my bones by the quivering stream. Soon the sunlight will fade I thought, but hang on a second, near the light of the sun my eyes take a glance at the black silhouette by the side of the stream. I wave to him, no one waves back. I call to him but my voice echoes away in the air. What is he doing? Does he purposely want to ignore me? Does he care? the figure becomes clearer . Realising it is a boy I try to get closer, but with every step I take he is farer.
I try again the next day, I do see him again. I recognise the same old fashioned clothing and he walks through the same track. Surprisingly, I can’t see a shadow at the left or right, not even in front of him. However the sun directly hits his back. I soon see his eyes tilt slowly to my direction. He knows I am there.
When I hike down the lane dreaming of the green sparkling blanket laid carefully on the fields and the bright flowers sleeping deeply on the bushes, I am sure there were meadows but why can I see houses put randomly by the riverside now?
He’s still there, waiting for something or someone. Maybe it was a dream, but however I am pretty sure he gave me a look in the eye.
Who is he? Is he you?
Who is that child I see wandering, wandering
down by the side of the quivering stream?
Why does he seem not to notice, though he sees me?
Where did he come from, where is he going?
Why do I see him at morning and at night
taking, in a perfect pace, the same track?
Why, when he walks, does he not turn
away though the sun is in his eyes?
Why does the night eerily glow on the hedgerow
by the path in which he walks his endless walk?
Why do I only see reflections, where the stream
splits perfectly into two?
Why does he move like a barge on a river,
soft as a pillow after a night’s rest?
When I draw near him so that I see him,
why does he say that his vision is my own?
Today I took my usual route I always take when I saw something I recognized. At first I couldn’t make out what it was. I called after the boy but he didn’t stop. Instead, he carried on walking by the narrow brook. When I reached the next bridge, I walked across the bridge to inspect this boy further, but as I got there, I noticed something strange; I recognized the clothes he was wearing. Don’t ask me how, I just did. He didn’t cast a shadow so I wondered if I was hallucinating, but I knew inside I wasn’t. I couldn’t have been. He moved like a wraith by the water like a thistledown on the breezeblown. I called after him again, and he said my name was his own. Then, I felt an itch on my eye so I rubbed it. When I looked again, he was gone.
That day i saw a child wandering, just wandering around by the side of the quivering stream. I asked myself ,”why does he seem not to hear me, though i call to him?” I had many questions and many thoughts but where, where does he come from and does he have a name and if he did what is it?
Everyday i saw him at sunrise and sunset. All he does i see him taking in old fashioned clothes the same way, the same track all the time. Is this magic or is it my imaginary that when he walks there’s NO shadow of him. Eventhough the sun rises and falls at his back shining.
When i walked by the side of the field why, why does the dust lie so thick on the hedgerow where a horse pulls plough? Whilst walking around looking at the nature i meet a place i often go however, it was a beautiful place full of houses standing in a line by the riverside but now its only meadows.
Thoughts were spinning around my head like mad saying,” why does he move like a wraith by the water and as soft as the thistledown on the breeze blown. Suddenly when i draw near him so i can hear him all he said that his name is his own.
To Thomas,
I really liked your questions as it really drew me in to your poem. I also like your use of adjectives to describe the surroundings. Good poem.
Iâve just walked past a river wandering why that little boy is quivering beside it. He looks like an exact replica of me, he could only be twelve. I tried to call his name but he didnât say what it is, i really do wonder. I wonder where he comes from? Why do I see him at sunrise and sunset? Why was he wearing old fashioned clothes? I canât seem to be able to see his shadow. I went over and asked him for his name and he said my name is the same as yours.
Iâve just walked past a river wandering why that little boy is quivering beside it. He looks like an exact replica of me, he could only be twelve. I tried to call his name but he didnât say what it is, i really do wonder. I wonder where he comes from? Why do I see him at sunrise and sunset? Why was he wearing old fashioned clothes? I canât seem to be able to see his shadow. I went over and asked him for his name and he said my name is the same as yours.
who is that person standing by the water
as the waves roll onto the sand?
how is she getting further and further
even as i walk to her frame?
when the sun falls why is she gone
although i know she is here?
why does her features seem so known
even though she hasn’t been seen?
why is the sand so sharp
as i walk closer to her presence?
why is the water so cold when she at horizon?
how are her movements so quiet,so quiet
like a feather landing on skin?
why are y steps so heavy
as if my shoes are filled with rocks?
oh its you, its you mother.can i ask the question i have been holding in?
why have i been searching for so long
when even in my presence you are still gone?
Hi there i’m writing to you introduce you my younger self to me your older self . so let me just tell you some things in advance there will be up’s and down’s in your future but don’t get me wrong it wont always be like that so don’t be scared of the evil the future may bring . you may get your self trapped in time as you look back at your wonderful and fascinating childhood where the sky was once blue but has now turned grey.
you’ve made bad choices more than you can imagine . you’ve carried multiple amounts of weapons and witnessed pools of blood . Don’t worry John everything has a way of working it’s self out and you’r dog blaze is still by your side for company he may be all you have left.
p.s
in six years you’ll find your self in a place where you can relax up in the sky
or will you be in HELL
Who?
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, I saw a boy outside my window, standing lonely as a shadow. When I see him itâs like looking in the mirror. Why is it that when I try to go to him he is never there? It`s like he is made out of dust, Iâve tried calling to him, but when I shout âwho are you?â people call me crazy.
Dear diary,
Today I saw him again, but he was in different clothes. He was in old fashioned clothes; I saw a flashback of my past when I looked at his clothes. He waved at somebody that wasn`t there. He stands at meadows that aren`t there.
Dear Diary,
Finally, he heard me, he knows my name and says it`s his own. It`s so weird but he knows what I am thinking. He knows everybody I ever met. So I said âwho are you?â for the last time he looked at me and said âI am going homeâ but then he walked to my childhood home. Who is he? Because I do not know.
By Emre Rotherfield.
WHO??
chaper 1
31ST MAY
I woke up the strange boy I always see is there walking up and down the stream. Heâs always alone; he has no parents there anybodyâs ever with him. I call out âhiâ but he didnât answer. I always asked myself who is he where does he come from. I notice he is always wearing old fashion clothes; why is it when the sunlight shine on his back there is no shadow. He looks so familiar but I just canât remember who he is!
Chapter 2
The strange boy is there again he only comes at sunset and sunrise I called out to him; he does not answers was like he was completely deaf
So I decided to go over there âwhat is your nameâ I say, he does not respond he continues walking his path. What will he do where will he go I wonder because I do not know.
Who?
Along time ago, there was an old man and his name was Charles. He just got back from his job and was walking past the buildings and the shops. Minding his own business, suddenly he saw something! It almost looked like he recognised him but couldnât quite figure who. It was a boy. Every time he called the mysterious boy and he could not hear him. The man just thought that he was hallucinating and went back to his old little home past the shops and the buildings. He cooked himself an apple pie and when he finished it he went to his comfy bed. But a dream appeared into his mind. The boy was there right in front of him. As the boy was turning around, his body was glowing. Just about when he got to see his face. Just when he needed a tiny glimpse he woke up. When he woke up he changed in his clothes and ate breakfast and went to work just the same old everyday life. When he got back from work, he went back to check on the boy. Back to the fields he went were the houses were around before⌠this time the boy was sitting down beside the field as usual not showing his face. The man looked around were the houses used to be around the fields. He went to the boy and he was wearing old fashioned clothes. He spoke to him and when he told him this question: whatâs your name? Mine is Charles. But when He was close enough to hear him he replied âMy name is also Charles,â and as he said that, he turned and showed his face. Finally he recognised the boy. The boy was him in his childhood the man was the boy and the boy was the manâŚ
By: Aron
Today was the most confusing day of my life. Itâs been happening since yesterday. I opened the curtains in my room and stared at the mystery figure standing by the shimmering stream. Who was this man? What is he doing here? I have been wondering all day who this person might be. At first I thought it was a dream but I felt it was real. As the day went by it seemed to be getting more and more confusing.
Dear Dairy, Thursday 18th August 1983
Today was just like yesterday. Confusing and very mysterious. I opened my curtains and looked back outside. The person was still there standing and wandering alone. Why does this boy only come out at sunrise and sunset? Today I thought I had to speak up and ask him some questions. I opened my window and shouted âHello, boy WHO ARE YOU, and why are you all alone!?â He never replied so I decided to go outside. But he was gone; Iâll do it tomorrow then.
Dear Dairy, Friday 19th August 1983
Todays the day I finally find out who this strange boy is. But Iâm nervous. What do I do? How do I do it?
5am
Its sunrise and I am all set up but Iâm still anxious. I ran downstairs; I opened the door slowly. There he was, âHello there I just want to know who you are and why are you always here?â I asked. Then he turned around, my palms started getting sweaty. âHi, oh my name is Charles and-âfor a moment there I froze. Was he⌠No it couldnât be.
Early this morning when I was looking outside my window, I saw something strange. There was a boy outside wondering by the canal. Even though the sun shone on him, he had no shadow. What was going on? Who was he? Why was he here? I call him but he does not hear me. Is he deaf?
Dear diary,
Every day I look out my window and I have noticed he only comes out when he the sun is rising and the sun was going down. Iâve seen him properly this time he has old fashioned clothes and old raged clothes. What should I do when I see him again?
Dear diary,
Today I saw him again but there was dust was laying everywhere where there use to be houses everywhere and I only see meadows everywhere. Where had the houses gone?
Dear diary,
Iâve seen him again this time he is by the water when I go near him why does he say that his name is my own? What does he mean? Is he lying to me? Is he telling me the truth?
Today was the most confusing day of my life. Itâs been happening since yesterday. I opened the curtains in my room and stared at the mystery figure standing by the shimmering stream. He had no shadow even though the sun was shining directly at him. What is going on, is this a dream? I have been wondering all day who this person might be. At first I thought it was nothing so I carried on with my day as usual. As the day went by it seemed to be getting more and more confusing.
Thursday 18th August 1983
Dear Diary,
Today was just like yesterday. Confusing and very mysterious. I opened my curtains and looked back outside. The person was still there standing and wondering alone. Why does this boy only come out at sunrise and sunset? Today I thought I had to call out to him. I opened my window and shouted out to him. Who are you small boy what are you doing all alone? He didnât reply. He didnât even turn around. I didnât understand why he couldnât hear me. I turned away and then looked back. He had disappeared.
Friday 19th August 1983
Dear diary,
Today was the day I finally went out and spoke to that mysterious boy. This morning I looked out of my window to see if he was there. Luckily he was. I got dressed, put on my shoes and jacket and left the house. I walked up to him and called him. âLittle boy please listen to me.â He still didnât say anything. I walked closer and finally he spoke. He said his name was my own. Then at that moment I had a flash back of my past. It was me. I looked like that boy wearing the same old-fashioned clothes as him. Was this true? Is this really what it looks like? Could this boy really be me? The boy turned around and disappeared. This was the last time I ever saw that little boy again
Who???
Chapter 1
October 20th
The sun was shining; I opened my curtains to revile a strange figure just sitting aimlessly by my garden gate. I slowly pushed the window open and called out to the young boy. No response! I called again he just walked off.
Chapter 2
October 21st
I was confused I wanted to know what he was doing I saw him again I tried to find out why he did not respond to what I had said to him. I realised that he was wearing old fashion clothes and he had no shadow sum how I only see him at sun set and when the sun had falls.
Chapter3
October 23rd
I looked out the window and the dust on the hedge it was strange it was like there was no horses I sore him a gene I looked at him and realised it was me on my tenth birthday.
WHO??
Dear diary,
Early this morning when I was looking outside my window, I saw something strange. There was a boy outside wandering by the canal. When I saw him I had a flashback of my childhood. Light shone on him, but there was no shadow. Every day I look out my window and I have noticed that he only comes out when the sun is rising or going down. What should I do when I see him again?
Dear diary,
Today I saw the boy again; this time he was looking at the dust by the great field. I spotted that he was wearing old fashioned raggedy clothes. I opened my window and called out to him but he didnât respond why is he ignoring me maybe heâs deaf or maybe heâs just ignoring me.
Dear diary,
I had the strangest conversation with the boy today. When he was walking by the canal as normal, he started mumbling words. So I went closer to see what soft words he was saying. I asked what his name was, but without looking up, he said his name was the same as min. A shiver went down my spine. Who was he? What was going on? Then, he turned to face me. It was like I was looking in a mirror. Was he me? Am I a ghost?
Who?
Monday 7th October 1876
I woke up on a normal day and open my curtains, the sun was shining. Something strange was outside a silhouette was standing in the park. I wanted to go greet him but I wasnât aloud outside until I was to finish my -homework. As it puffed out smoke from a cigarette I was tempted to sneak outside.
Tuesday 8th October 1876
The following Day I decided to look for him (on my own). I wanted to have a new friend so without thinking I set off. I saw it. It was beside my favourite flower. I chased after it. It was very good at parkour it jumped across rooftops and buildings. I shouted âI donât want to hurt you I want to be friendsâ. Why is it that I see him at sunset and sun rise? Why is it he reminds me of my past?
Wednesday 9th October 1876
I was very frustrated. If this mysterious figure doesnât talk to me I will forget about him and carry on with my life. I thought why does he move like a wraith by the water? Why does he say his name is my own? I stood there puzzled. No. A portal opened the silhouette ran towards it. Could this be the end of him-he was gone. Where I donât know. Why I donât know.
Thursday 10th October 1876
I was very sad, I just decided I should live a normal life, figure or no figure I will still be happy. A tear dropped on my diary and smudged a letter. As much as I tried to hold it in, tears kept on falling. There was only silence.
Dear Diary,
Today the weirdest thing happened to me. When I was opening my curtains, I saw an unusual sight; a strange looking boy standing deadly still. Mesmerise by the glistering stream. Confused, I wanted to go and ask him why he was standing there and what he wanted from my garden?
Wednesday 17th April 1986
Dear Diary,
This afternoon when I was going to water my plants I saw him again. Why do I always see him in sunrise and in the sunset and him wearing old-fashioned clothes? Itâs hard to believe that he doesnât have a shadow and doesnât answer people.
Thursday 18th April 1986
Dear Diary,
This evening I saw him again, so I decided to speak to him but he didnât answer me, so I shouted and I said âLittle boy what are you doing over there?â but he still didnât answer. When I stood next to him to see what he was doing, I asked him what his name was, he replied his name was my ownâŚ
The wired this happen to me to day I woke up like normal, and I saw a boy. I tried to call out to him but he didnât hear me. I donât know if he was deaf? But the weird thing was he is always there day and night. When I looked at him, it was like I saw him before. He looked familiar, but I couldnât recognise him. He looked like me!
Dear diary,
I keep on seeing that boy again when I see his face it was like looking in the mirror. But he was in old fashioned cloths it reminded me like when I was a little boy. He is always at the river looking down at the fish. when the sun shines on the boy he has no shadow. When I went down to speak to him he said his name was my own.
Sid: onyx class
I slowly climb out of bed in my lonely cabin.
I glance out my foggy window and see a translucent figure walking in a sluggish pace by the quivering stream. Rubbing my eyes to make sure they are not deceiving me. Why does he seem not to hear, though I call to him? Where does he come from, what is his name? I look at him intensely as the sunrises I expect him to cast a shadow.
I open my window, âgood morning, who are you? What is your name? How old are you?â I shouted, but no reply. Why is ignoring me? Maybe he is deaf. I try to get closer to this boy but nothing seems to be there. Finally I get close to him I ask him what is your name? But I knew would not he answer me so I
WHO?
Saturday 25th May 1872
Dear Diary,
Every day at sunrise and sunset, I see a boy wandering down by the river just outside my house. Even though I call him every single day to ask him his name and where he comes from, there was no answer. As well as this, he doesnât have a shadow; he walks round the same circle every day. Iâm starting to think he`s a ghost now.
Why do I only see meadows where the houses should be? Why is the dust so thick where the horses pull the ploughs? He`s moving like a wraith by the water. I donât get it he should hear me unless he`s deaf, he should get hungry and go to the shop instead of walking around, and why doesnât he have shadow?
Sunday 26th May 1872
The next day, the boy was still there. I go to talk to the boy. I say âWhat is your name. He replies âmy name is yours only my. Give me my house back before I do it for youâ he says .I reply âWhat do you mean, this is my house how do you know my name.
WHO?
Saturday 25th May 1872
Dear Diary,
Every day at sunrise and sunset, I see a boy wandering down by the river just outside my house. Even though I call him every single day to ask him his name and where he comes from, there was no answer. As well as this, he doesnât have a shadow; he walks round the same circle every day. Iâm starting to think he`s a ghost now.
Why do I only see meadows where the houses should be? Why is the dust so thick where the horses pull the ploughs? He`s moving like a wraith by the water. I donât get it he should hear me unless he`s deaf, he should get hungry and go to the shop instead of walking around, and why doesnât he have shadow?
Sunday 26th May 1872
The next day, the boy was still there. I go to talk to the boy. I say âWhat is your name. He replies âmy name is yours only my. Give me my house back before I do it for youâ he says .I reply âWhat do you mean, this is my house how do you know my name.
Dear Diary, Thursday 14th September 1996
Today the weirdest thing happened to me. When I was opening my curtains, I saw an unusual sight; a strange boy standing deadly still. When I looked closer I found out that he looked like someone I knew although I donât know who .He was wandering around by the glistening stream, looking at the beautiful fish, swimming in the water. I felt so confused about who he reminded me of.
Dear Diary, Friday 15th September 1996
Today, when I was hanging the washing up, I saw the boy again sitting on the wall. What was he doing there? I asked him what he wanted but he didnât answer me, I tried to think about why he didnât have a shadow and why he always wore those old fashioned clothes. Why do I always see him at sunrise and sunset? Why is it always at those times?
Dear Diary, Saturday 16th September 1996
This afternoon I went to the park and found that the boy was on the swing. He was speaking to someone even though there was nobody there. I try to find the houses but they were all gone and I didnât know where they were. Slowly, I walked to the boy and said ââHello, who are you?ââ but he didnât answer. The boy gave a sigh and walked off as if he didnât hear me.
Dear Diary, Sunday 17th September 1996
This morning, I went to speak to the boy one final time. I went down to the stream, where the boy usually is. I shouted to him ââWho are YOU!ââ. He stood up and I looked at him and he looked at me ,It was as if there was a mirror in between us. He stood up and said ââMy name is Michael,ââ. I felt a shiver in my hands. He had the name of my own.
Who?
I slowly climb out of bed in my lonely cabin. I glance out my foggy window and see a translucent figure walking at a sluggish pace by the quivering stream. Rubbing my eyes to make sure they are not deceiving me, I look out of the window again, I see the figure walking in circles aimlessly.
Cautiously, I open my door and walk out âH-helloâ I say, slightly frightened âw-who are you⌠tell me!â is say gaining confidence. The sun started to rise expecting a shadow I see nothing âW-what are youâŚâ I step back. I open my door and run in I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I open my eyes and look out my window and see⌠nothing?
It is now 8 oâclock I open my door and straitened my suite ready for work when I see the boy again I put my hands on my eyes in disbelief when I take them off the disappeared what is going on? Am I going insane? I take a deep breath and continue on my way to work.
Days have passed and this boy keeps haunting me he keeps appearing and disappearing itâs driving me insane! I storm out of bed and confront the boy âPLEASE!â I drop to my knees âJust tell me who you are youâve been driving me crazy!â The boy turned around slowly and looked into my eyes
âM-my name is Charles Crossleyâ my eyes widen, but how? âIâm lost please help me I canât find my way back homeâ I touch the boyâs shoulder it sinks through I touch my hand in fascination,
âYouâre right at homeâŚme.â
What is that thing I see over there roaming, roaming on the edge of the silent riverbank?
Why does he not hear even when I yell at him?
On what planet does he live on and what is his name?
I see him in the evening and at dawn,
Hovering in torn -patched up clothes.
When he moves he does not cast a shadow,
Even in the light still not a thing.
Why does he move like a soaring eagle?
Soft as a kitten when the wind blows.
I get closer so I can hear him
Dear Joan
There was a boy roaming,roaming around the scorching hot beach.He was alone, the whole beach was desolate. I tried to say ‘Hello’ but he didn’t respond. I didn’t have the faintest idea of where he came from, and I hadn’t known his name. His face was focusing on something, it was a book.
I saw him at day and night, reading and reading. Nobody was with him. When he moves, there is no shadow that he possessed, though the sun rose and fell on his back.
The next day, I saw him sitting on a wooden chair, and this time he was with a small girl, his sister. As I moved closer to hear the conversation, the girl called out a familiar name. It started with a ‘H’ and ended with a ‘N’. It was then when I realised that it was my name.
Yours sincerely,
Hasan, your friend
i like it đ
Really good poem. This is SUPERB!
Dear Hasan Mustafa
We liked your diary entry because it has a lot of descriptive language and we like how you changed the story but kept the story line the same
I really liked your adjectives and verbs which I thought were really precise. I also liked how you gave the boy a character (by saying he reads all the time) instead of him just being a figure and have no interests or personality. Well done!
Dear Alex,
I have uncounted a rather peculiar experience. Basically what happened is that i was walking by when i came across a boy who was wearing very old-fashioned clothes. When he started to walk i noticed he did not have a shadow even though the sun beamed onto his back. After that, i could tell that the harvest had been used because there was thick dust on the hedgerow. Then i tried to go near the boy and tried to ask him his name but he said his name was mine…
Dear Zelda,
There are many meadows along this beautiful crystal blue river with many beautiful fish with colourful scales:visit sometime
Dear woods,
I’ve just walked past a river wandering why that little boy is quivering beside it. I just tried to call his name but he didn’t say what it is.I wonder were he comes from.Why do I see him at sunrise and sunset? Why would he be wearing old- fashioned clothes? I can’t see his shadow. I went over and asked him for his name and he said my name is the same as yours.
I like the way you have separated the poem into loads of questions, the reason I like this is that the poem was written in the same way. It really makes me think about why all this happens in a deeper way.
Dear Death,
Who is that child strolling down the road? Why doesn’t he reply when I ask him his name was? Why is going to the same direction?
Why do I see him on every sunset and sunrise with no shadow? Whirring the clothes I remember seeing.
I feel like I saw him rushing towards a polite woman.
Hi Kadir,
I like the way you’ve addressed death. Very clever.
Karid you produced a very interesting diary entry with different but short sentence. keep up the good work!!!!!!!!!
Safa and Nimo, thank you for taking the time to comment on another student’s work.
I like how you address it to death
Hi Kadir,
I like the fact that you have written to death. Your words have created atmosphere nicely.
Dear Hamza,
I am writing to you today because I have recently experienced something rather awesome. I have seen these beautiful buildings in the countryside and a wonderful stream that leads to the freezing Atlantic ocean. The countryside has many hedgerows covered in dust from the crops.
who is this strange boy, he is small and has now shadow and when he stepped in the river he did not get wet! why is this?
Dear Acadia,
I have experienced a really rough life… One day I saw a fine young women next to a lake, I asked her what her name was but she did not answer me. That girl I saw looked just like me, I asked her who her parents or carers were but she did not answer ; I realised that she was shy like me. That little girl went to my old house near the park. When I walked into the old house she called my mum her mum… That’s when I realised she was me , my past.
this is a great poem or diary entry… point is ITS GREAT its like the original but almost reversed then upgraded. ROUND OF APPLAUSE!!!!!
Dear Acadia,
I have experienced a really rough life… One day I saw a fine young women next to a lake, I asked her what her name was but she did not answer me. That girl I saw looked just like me, I asked her who her parents or carers were but she did not answer ; I realised that she was shy like me. That little girl went to my old house near the park. When I walked into the old house she called my mum her mum… That’s when I realised she was me , my past.
nice work I really like it I hope you keep making great pieces of work like this one
Dear Paige,
This poem is a very hard to explain I am the little lonely emotional boy that was lonely now that I have become and old tiring man I need someone to help me with my old-fashioned clothes and my lonely self I feel so lonely I need a new friend
Dear Sayeed,
I am writing to you because I always experience this feeling that I see this boy but no one else does . I am beginning to see things that were in my childhood. Every time I call him he does not answer me.He always walks down the same aisle and his shadow does not appear. he says his name every time and its the same as mine.
Dear Berkan
I am writing to you because I saw something strange things like that looking at a ball at it with a smile in his face with his mother and dad.
Why do I hear the same thing what I unexpectedly what they said about the journey so what this means I know everything with hearing so I seen this thing with everything
So Berkan so what I seen what happened even this letter I saw it before doing it I please respond me your
sincerely your Max your bro
Dear Hamza,
The other day I saw a weird little boy . I wandered who he was . I didn’t really get an answer . All I knew was that he was wearing strange old-fashioned clothes .
Why was he their every time I was there ? He took the same path home every-single time. To me he was a lonely isolated boy .
Why didn’t he cast a shadow even when the sun rises and falls before his back . I went closer and closer to hear him and he said to me that his name was my own .
Dear Jeff,
I saw a child wandering down by the side of the stream. He doesn’t seem to hear, even though I called out to him. I don’t know where he comes from, nor what his name is.
I saw him at sunrise and sunset taking, in old -fashioned clothes, in the same path as me.
Dear, Bob
I have been seeing strange things such as this young boy who has been appearing on the path that I used to walk on when I was a child,
He wore old-fashioned clothes, the exact same i used to wear. For some reason he doesn’t have a shadow even though the light shines right on him.
I went back to the beach where they said there were a lot of houses. But there wasn’t I saw him so I wanted to hear his voice but then he said he’s name is mine.
Dear Chloe,
I see that child wandering down the quivering street.Why do I see him at the sunrise and sunset. In the old fashion clothes at the same track.
nice poem Cinar!
Dear Jeff,
I saw a child wandering down by the side of the stream. He doesn’t seem to hear, even though I called out to him. I don’t know where he comes from, nor what his name is.
I saw him at sunrise and sunset taking, in old -fashioned clothes, in the same path as me.
Dear Naz,
I am writing to you about what happened a few moments ago- I was baffled…
In my experience, I saw a boy(who looked just like me)wandering down the side of a quivering stream. This boy would not reply to me , nor did he listen to me. What was his name?
I’ve seen him once at sunrise and sunset wearing old-fashioned clothes walking, no…floating on the same track I have been on before. Mysteriously, he does not have a shadow, even though the sun was rising and falling on his back.
The dust on the hedgerow by the great field, where the horses pull the plough, lie so thick. I could only see meadows where others think houses stand in a straight line by the riverside now. He moves like a wraith by the water, soft as the thistledown on the breeze blown. Drawing near so that I may hear him, he said his is name is my own…I personally think that I had a ‘near-death’experience, and probably saw myself in my own childhood. Please write back to me as soon as possible.What happened!?
Many thanks,
Kawthar
Nice poem, you included great detailed phrases.
I agree with Sara!
Dear Kawthar,
Who is that child that I see walking along the classroom? Why is he always by him self? Sitting in the corner at the back all by him self were does he go at home time ? Why do I see him alone at the middle of the night and really early in the morning? Why does he move without a smile in the world? But I finally get his attention and I ask what’s his name is and he said my own.
Dear Zelda ,
I am writing to you to tell you that I’m seeing a little boy ever time I go to work . I called
him and he didn’t answer me I want to know what is your name , and where does he live
I always see him at the sunrise and sunset talking. He always wears old- fashioned clothes, the same track. Why ,when he walks I can never see his shadow.
why does the dust lie so thick on the hedgerow by the greatest field were the horse pulls the plough it make me think is he dead or am I seeing things.
Your poem was amazing!
Conor I really like your humour!
Dear Naz
Who is that child in the classroom I see wandering under my chair, doing the same routine I do, but nobody see’s her?
Whenever the sun’s beaming bright from the outside but i don’t see her shadow and she was wearing the same clothes as me!
I decided to face her and she keep saying my name…
Dear Maria ‘A’
I am writing because I have been seeing strange things such as this young girl who has been appearing every where I uses to go .
Who was that child I saw in the ally way? Who looked the other way when I seem to call, to ask her where are you from and what is your name?
Why do I see her where ever I go? And why is it he doesn’t cast a shadow?
Why, why and why?
Why does he move without a care in the world? Why is it that when I try drawn near him he moves away?
I finally catch him to find out his name and he says it is my own!
Dear diary,
I see a child by the stream, everyday! I call him and he does not reply. Impudent, he is!
How rude…
every sunrise and sunset he is in archaic clothes, the same route every time, weird!
why do I see meadows and a stream where houses once lay?
ONCE I COME UP TO HIM HE TELLS ME THAT HIS NAME…is my own!
this is my diary entry version of the poem
Dear Diary,
I am confused SCARED there is a boy a child about 8 you could say. He looks like me when I was a child. i call out “hey” impudent he is.
“Hey” I say again.
Still no answer…
Dear Diary,
I think I’ve gone a bit mad.
There is this boy, and when I call to him, he doesn’t reply.
He doesn’t cast his own shadow, though the sun falls on his back.
And, worst of all, he says his name is my own.
Wait a minute…
Dear diary,
I went to my special place,
and when I there a boy no older than twelve,
stood there and stared into the sky with despair in his eyes,
I called to him and when I did,
I waited for him to turn around,
He never did.
Here is my re-creation of Who as a diary entry:
Dear Diary,
I see this boy walking around the stream every day. I’ve decided to make a diary to write down what had happened.
I was walking down the stream, and I saw the ghost. I called it, and he said that he had my name. I was confused at first, but I realized that he was a wraith. It was VERY confusing.
dear diary,
i looked across the field today searching for my friend,but to my suprise a white face stood before my eyes… staring with no eyes,but nonetheless he stood watching,plotting,waiting…
‘Who?’ – Diary Entry Recreation
Dear Diary,
I see a child wandering down the side of a stream. He seems that he is deaf, or even possibly mute. I have absolutely no idea where he comes from, and what is his name?
I see him, always at sunrise and sunset. Wearing old fashioned clothes all the time. He does not cast a shadow as he walks.
The dust lies so thick on the hedge by a field where a horse pulls a plough. I only see meadows, horses now stand in a line now – BORING!!!
He moves like a wraith by the water, so softly. I draw near him so I can hear him. He told me my name was my own!
Hi Theo, I like the way you have used language from the original poem.
Dear Diary,
Confusion. All that goes through my head. I see him them in archaic clothes.
I call him but both morn and eve I receive no reply. No shadow to be seen; every sunrise and sunset hes there I do not know what it means.i hear him say his name. Its Abraham.
ITS ME!
One day i when for my run then took a short cut down by the river and saw a small boy i said good afternoon he didn’t respond.Then after a while i asked whats your name and where do you come from he blanked me like i was a dog barking on the path. He wore old cloths he was interesting i didn’t have a clue.
Dear diary,
Today I saw a child wondering by the side quivering stream.
When I called to him he didnât seem to hear me.
I wonder where he came from and what his name was.
I wonder why I see him at sunrise and sunset,
taking the same track in old fashioned clothes.
He walked with no shadow even though the sun falls of his back.
Why does the dust lie so the dust lie so thick on the hedgerow?
Near the great field were the horse pulls the plough.
Why did I only see meadows, where were houses stand in line by the riverside now?
I see him moving like a wraith down by the water
Soft as a thistledown on the breeze blow.
Why did I have feelings of remembrance?
When I drew him close so I could hear him
Why did he say his name was my own?
Did I ever expect that? The truth is no.
By Asmaa and Leila
Dear diary,
I walked down the path and looked at the fairly normal day.
Everything was perfectly ordinary. The water churned in the stream. Meadows and fields stretched for miles. I carried on walking. Suddenly, a strange man approached me asking for my name, I told him what it was. He looked like he had seen a ghost. His eyes were wide in shock. I looked behind me in case there was something there. There was nothing. When I looked back he had disappearedâŚ
Dear diary,
Today I saw a young boy wandering by the stream. He was wearing old-fashioned clothes, yet I felt like I had seen him somewhere before.
After some minutes of staring I walked closer to him. He was looking into the quivering stream; walking along the same path.
After sunrise he would disappear, and when sunset came along he would arrive back, walking along the same path. Yet the strangest thing was; he never had a shadow, though the sun would rise and set on his back.
One day I walked to him. I asked him his name. He told me. His name was my own. Then I realised who he was⌠My past self.
Dear diary,
I think Iâm going mad. I keep seeing this old-fashioned, mysterious child who I see anywhere and everywhere. Heâs like shadowing ghost from the past, keeping me awake and wandering in my thoughts.
I first saw him by the shimmering riverside. I yelled over to him, but he spoke no reply. Iâm completely and utterly perplexed. When I saw him next, it was sunset, and the dazzling sun gleamed on his back, however I saw no shadow. Is this a dream? Or a supernatural reality? These visions are tantalizing me, like their trying to dissolve my mind. The young boy takes the same track at sunrise and sunset, like a loop that repeats every day.
I see crops being harvested by the farmer, and green meadows as far as the eye can see. It seems like the small huts that lay by the quivering river have disappeared, and abandoned me within this infinite cycle of time.
Why, when I asked who the boy was, did he reply with my name alone?
By Aedan & Edie
To Aedan & Edie (Gillepsie)
Your poem is really nice because you used really strong language with lots of meaning.
I also like your use of similes and metaphors, because they give a good description of the thing you were talking about!
-Rose
Dear diary,
Today I saw a child wandering around. I was curious because he didnât hear me. I was going to ask him why he had no shadow, and why he took the same track at sunrise and sunset. After I only see meadows were houses stand now by the river. I saw great fields where a horse was pulling a plough. The waves of the river, overlapping each other. I didnât know where I was as I was in the middle of nowhere. I was confused of how he could move like a wraith by the water, I ran towards him so I could hear what he was going to say. I asked him for his name… He replied with my own.
Dear diary,
This morning I woke up looking outside my window.
A figure standing still staring at me.
Something about it I recognized.
I had to get a closer look.
Wandering around turning back the time.
The same place I used to play.
Finding houses where land used to be.
Feeling myself again like I used to.
As the wind swept me away.
Where was I and what could I see?
Then I came across the young boy.
Standing watching the twilight blue sea.
I had to know who he was but he disappeared.
I tried to look for him but no one was there.
I found my self back in my bed.
It was a dream.
The little boy was me.
We really liked the tone and structure of the poem.
Adding to Yassir and Ofrande’s you used a great use of words
Dear diary,
The bright sun shone through the long branches of a tall spindly tree, as I rose from the damp gritty ground!
My knees were wobbling as my feet squelched in to the muddy ground. I was walking along, the leafy brown path, and I looked down and couldnât see my own shadow.
I saw a boy sitting on the old rusty bench, I shouted.
Believe it or not no response came to my ears. I was astonished by the rudeness of this little ignorant child.
As I trudged along, not knowing my directions, and then I saw an ignorant teenager smoking with his friends. I followed him back to his house to see what he was up to and I realized thatâs where I lived. I waited outside for days and then he finally came out. Me, an old man.
Can you believe it, it was me the whole time?
great description!
Dear diary,
Today, I was walking by the stream where I go every day, when I saw a mysterious figure in old fashioned clothes wandering, wandering. He didnât respond when I called to him, though I called loud and clear. In the end, my curiosity got the better of me and I started to follow theâŚmemory, ghost, spirit, I donât know which. He cast not a shadow. As I approached the, whatever it is, he murmurs a name that is my own.I couldn’t believe my ears.
Was it a dreamâŚI will never know. But one things for certain, I will never forget the figure by the stream.
I like the way you’ve put a rhetorical question in the diary entry!
Dear diary
The river flowed under my feet and swirled around my ankleâs. The muddy ground enveloped my leather sandals on the river bed. On the other side of the river, below the willow tree weeping its morning dew. Was a boy.
His silent feet making no sound on the pillow grass, his body cast no shadow from the gentle morning sun. I shouted, I shouted in his ear yet he still does not hear.
The carpet of dust lies so thick on the hedgerow, yet in the distance a horse pulls a plough. I turned around the boy was gone but now he lay on a branch in a tree. His clothes are brown and ragged.
Suddenly the boy clutched his chest and keeled over. In an instant everything changed and houses emerged from the dark.
A Tractor rumbled past.
I bumped into a grave and saw the name was my ownâŚ
Dear diary,
Today I saw a boy wondering down by the side of the quivering stream. He seems not to hear when I call to him, where does he came from and what is his name I see him at sunrise and sunset wearing old fashioned clothes. When he walks he cast no shadow, though the sun rise falls on his back. It seems like like the boy is not alive because he is not answering my questions and why does he say his name is my own .
Theo Josef Barghout ( St. Aloysius’ College) your poem made me feel moved how you expressed the lines with all types of emotions.
Dear diary,
I miss being young, but the harsh modern city has taken over the beautiful trees and fields they demolished my old cottage where I lived as a little boy.
Who`s that boy wondering, wondering by the flowing stream?
Why does he feel not to hear me, though he hears me shouting?
Where does he come from, and what is his name?
Why is he always standing there at sunrise and sunset and wearing the same old-fashioned clothes on the same track?
Why when he walks, does cast a shadow through the sun rise he falls on his back?
Why does dust lie thick on the hedgerow with the great field where a horse pulls the Plough? where do I see meadows, where houses stand in line by the riverside now?
Why does he feel like a wraith by a the water soft like a thistledown on the breeze blown?
Dear diary,
Who is that child wandering, wandering down at me. I was curious because he didnât hear me. I thought to my- self. He was the same as me. Talking to him, but no answer it is like he is my shadow. Why does he say his name is mine? Why does he look like me? Who knows? Iâm shacking, as I speak but still no answer from this anonymous person. Is he going to reply or not I will never know?
I like your use of questions James and Mo
I agree great use of questions!Amazing!!!
Great poem James and Mo, I really like the way you’ve kept the questions in your diary entry. I can see that you’ve put a lot of effort into it.
it’s shaking by the way, not ‘shacking’.
Dear diary,
I see a child wandering. Down towards the forest filled with autumnal leaves. I wonder who he is. What is his name and where does he comes from? When I call out to him, he doesnât seem to hear. He wanders along the quivering stream.
I see him at dawn and dusk, every day. He walks about, yet he doesnât cast a single shadow, wearing the same old-fashion clothes every one day.
Along where the horses plough, where the dust covers the many hedgerows. He reminds of me, this must be a dream of some sort. Where the vast meadow used to be, is now a long forever row of houses. The world has changed from how it used to be.
He moves along the edge of the water aloof by himself. The thistledown blown softly along way. When I went to him and asked his name, he said his name was my own.
It was a dream of a younger me.
Dear diary,
Today I went to the shadowy river. I saw a young man with a black and white clothes, old fashioned at appearance.
I wondered âŚ
Who is that child, a quivering child striding past the trees, past the huts and farms.
He seems not afraid of drowning, for he walks across the river
His shadow, a mere shimmer , his eyes full of bravery and I was shocked to see him walk so close to the bank , but so far from drowning .
Why, why does he stride so far into danger so cold so brittle
His hair white with snow
This was an experience I thought of only in my furthest of dreams.
It was torture to see him nearly fall I would never walk into the river so why would he âŚ
I ask him if he needs help, he seems to cares but instead falls into the river I see him drown âŚ
BUT NETHER DID I KNOW, IT WAS MYSELF.
By Lara & Sam Carter
Very impressive Sam and Lara. I like the way you used the structure of the original poem but add your own vivid descriptions.
It’s interesting your diary entry still seems poetic. Would you agree?
The child is walking,
down by the side of the stream.
I call down at him,
he does not respond.
How is he there, wandering,
at sunset and rise.
Thus far he has walked,
and he does not cast shadows.
And the dust lies thick,
by the great, ploughed field of crops.
I see green meadows,
where houses once stood.
He moves like a human wraith,
and name is mine.
Lovely re-imagining of the original poem Caleb.Thank you for sharing.
Such professional words.
I agree with you as well Anisha!
Hi everyone,
We are late joining but glad to read these brilliant poems at last. Especially Causley’s spooky old tale…
The children will be blogging shortly.
Thanks Michael
Anna (Grafton)
Hi,my name Kerem
Sorry for the late joining.I like this poem because its mysterious and also my favourite poem now.I think everyone should love this poem well as old people .I never read a poem before,but now this poem from Causley has inspired me to read more poems.
Hello my name is Azhar
We have just read all three poems this week all of the poems have a good twist to them i especially like causley’s poem because the ending was really unexpected because we find out that it really amazing.
Hi I’m Nathan from Grafton School
I’ve enjoyed reading the poems week 1-3 especially Causley’s poem because it’s quite creepy and really exciting.
Hello everyone!
We are glad to be joining this blog, as we have joined late. We loved Causley’s poem (Who).
Sumaya & Khala
Hi my name is Ben ,
We have just read all three poems who is very spooky and we were a bit late joining but we have caught up but its okay mr causley yo are a great poem writter I like the spooky way
Hi my name is Mert, I’ve enjoyed week 3 Causley who the most because, at the end it has an unexpected twist.I enjoy unexpected twists the most because at the end I figured out that the ghost Is the PERSON THAT HE IS TRYING TO REACH TO
We read all three poems this week I liked Causleys poem the best because its freaky.
hello we have enjoyed reading this spooky poem by Causley. he is very inspiring and thats why im here today.
thank you
Hi,I enjoyed all the poems week 1-3 but I thought Causley’s poem was the best because of the twist ending and the spooky atmosphere.
Glad you enjoyed it Nathan.
I decided to create a newspaper article based on the poem “Who”
MAN CLAIMS HE SEES HIMSELF AS CHILD
Yesterday, a man named Mr Wareberry contacted this paper claiming that he witnessed a recurring apparition in the vicinity of Hinkley in rural Leicestershire.
“It’s the strangest thing,” said Mr. W, ” I go for a walk twice a day at sunrise and sunset and I noyice the same person. It is quite vague, but I could make out that the person is male.”
After several sightings however, Mr Waterberry noticed the man had no shadow and seemed to have his own background. He explained,” There are some new cottages by the river but when he passes all I see is the fields behind them. Where do the cottages go?”
Despite his initial misgivings Mr W worked up the courage to speak to the stranger. ” I couldn’t believe my ears when he said his name. It was exactly the same as my own!”
Mr Waterberry is due to be released from hospital and will return to his maximum security retirement village.
Thank you Alexandra for sharing this with us.
Changing the form has changed the tone too. An excellent re-imagining.
Dear Reader,
In the evening at 5:00pm, I felt that I should stroll along the street, where I can relax my bones by the quivering stream. Soon the sunlight will fade I thought, but hang on a second, near the light of the sun my eyes take a glance at the black silhouette by the side of the stream. I wave to him, no one waves back. I call to him but my voice echoes away in the air. What is he doing? Does he purposely want to ignore me? Does he care? the figure becomes clearer . Realising it is a boy I try to get closer, but with every step I take he is farer.
I try again the next day, I do see him again. I recognise the same old fashioned clothing and he walks through the same track. Surprisingly, I can’t see a shadow at the left or right, not even in front of him. However the sun directly hits his back. I soon see his eyes tilt slowly to my direction. He knows I am there.
When I hike down the lane dreaming of the green sparkling blanket laid carefully on the fields and the bright flowers sleeping deeply on the bushes, I am sure there were meadows but why can I see houses put randomly by the riverside now?
He’s still there, waiting for something or someone. Maybe it was a dream, but however I am pretty sure he gave me a look in the eye.
Who is he? Is he you?
Thank you Sara. This is a detailed response to the poem which draws us into the mystery.
I like how you used a rhetorical question at the end and the language was good .
well done.
This is a very interesting diary entry/journal note as it shows the writer wandering if he is dreaming or not. Well done Sara.
Hey Sara i know you your in my class. I love how detailed your work is and you could imagine the scene. well done!
Hey I know you. Your in my class well done on the compliment by michael walsh himself.
Wow!!!What a great recount, i personally think that recount has a great structure!
I agree Yazmin
Who is that child I see wandering, wandering
down by the side of the quivering stream?
Why does he seem not to notice, though he sees me?
Where did he come from, where is he going?
Why do I see him at morning and at night
taking, in a perfect pace, the same track?
Why, when he walks, does he not turn
away though the sun is in his eyes?
Why does the night eerily glow on the hedgerow
by the path in which he walks his endless walk?
Why do I only see reflections, where the stream
splits perfectly into two?
Why does he move like a barge on a river,
soft as a pillow after a night’s rest?
When I draw near him so that I see him,
why does he say that his vision is my own?
Dear diary,
Today I took my usual route I always take when I saw something I recognized. At first I couldn’t make out what it was. I called after the boy but he didn’t stop. Instead, he carried on walking by the narrow brook. When I reached the next bridge, I walked across the bridge to inspect this boy further, but as I got there, I noticed something strange; I recognized the clothes he was wearing. Don’t ask me how, I just did. He didn’t cast a shadow so I wondered if I was hallucinating, but I knew inside I wasn’t. I couldn’t have been. He moved like a wraith by the water like a thistledown on the breezeblown. I called after him again, and he said my name was his own. Then, I felt an itch on my eye so I rubbed it. When I looked again, he was gone.
This is my version of the last stanza of ‘Who?’ by Charles Causley
Suddenly Everything is gone, the boy
and the houses have all disappeared,
Then a man is coming, in a black hood,
Now they are all back even my family.
My little diary.
That day i saw a child wandering, just wandering around by the side of the quivering stream. I asked myself ,”why does he seem not to hear me, though i call to him?” I had many questions and many thoughts but where, where does he come from and does he have a name and if he did what is it?
Everyday i saw him at sunrise and sunset. All he does i see him taking in old fashioned clothes the same way, the same track all the time. Is this magic or is it my imaginary that when he walks there’s NO shadow of him. Eventhough the sun rises and falls at his back shining.
When i walked by the side of the field why, why does the dust lie so thick on the hedgerow where a horse pulls plough? Whilst walking around looking at the nature i meet a place i often go however, it was a beautiful place full of houses standing in a line by the riverside but now its only meadows.
Thoughts were spinning around my head like mad saying,” why does he move like a wraith by the water and as soft as the thistledown on the breeze blown. Suddenly when i draw near him so i can hear him all he said that his name is his own.
I really like this piece of writing because its clear and has lots of good description and words Karina.
To Thomas,
I really liked your questions as it really drew me in to your poem. I also like your use of adjectives to describe the surroundings. Good poem.
Dear Diary,
Iâve just walked past a river wandering why that little boy is quivering beside it. He looks like an exact replica of me, he could only be twelve. I tried to call his name but he didnât say what it is, i really do wonder. I wonder where he comes from? Why do I see him at sunrise and sunset? Why was he wearing old fashioned clothes? I canât seem to be able to see his shadow. I went over and asked him for his name and he said my name is the same as yours.
Dear Diary,
Iâve just walked past a river wandering why that little boy is quivering beside it. He looks like an exact replica of me, he could only be twelve. I tried to call his name but he didnât say what it is, i really do wonder. I wonder where he comes from? Why do I see him at sunrise and sunset? Why was he wearing old fashioned clothes? I canât seem to be able to see his shadow. I went over and asked him for his name and he said my name is the same as yours.
Hey Maddie I like your poem it really brings out the main parts of the poem. I like it. đ
who is that person standing by the water
as the waves roll onto the sand?
how is she getting further and further
even as i walk to her frame?
when the sun falls why is she gone
although i know she is here?
why does her features seem so known
even though she hasn’t been seen?
why is the sand so sharp
as i walk closer to her presence?
why is the water so cold when she at horizon?
how are her movements so quiet,so quiet
like a feather landing on skin?
why are y steps so heavy
as if my shoes are filled with rocks?
oh its you, its you mother.can i ask the question i have been holding in?
why have i been searching for so long
when even in my presence you are still gone?
Dear younger self
Hi there i’m writing to you introduce you my younger self to me your older self . so let me just tell you some things in advance there will be up’s and down’s in your future but don’t get me wrong it wont always be like that so don’t be scared of the evil the future may bring . you may get your self trapped in time as you look back at your wonderful and fascinating childhood where the sky was once blue but has now turned grey.
you’ve made bad choices more than you can imagine . you’ve carried multiple amounts of weapons and witnessed pools of blood . Don’t worry John everything has a way of working it’s self out and you’r dog blaze is still by your side for company he may be all you have left.
p.s
in six years you’ll find your self in a place where you can relax up in the sky
or will you be in HELL
Wow this shows a different perspective of the poem. I like it. đ
i ABSOLUTELY
loved
the poem
My name is Tej. I really enjoyed Causley’s poem because it has a good twist and makes you think a lot about what’s going to happen.
Hi everyone, my name is Yonis and I really enjoyed the Causley poem because it’s really spooky.
My name is Sunny and I really loved the poem, especially because it’s very spooky and you never know what is going to happen.
Hi All People:
My name is Amin and I really enjoy all the poems in the week but the best one for me is Causley ”Who” poem because it’s really spooky.
Who?
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, I saw a boy outside my window, standing lonely as a shadow. When I see him itâs like looking in the mirror. Why is it that when I try to go to him he is never there? It`s like he is made out of dust, Iâve tried calling to him, but when I shout âwho are you?â people call me crazy.
Dear diary,
Today I saw him again, but he was in different clothes. He was in old fashioned clothes; I saw a flashback of my past when I looked at his clothes. He waved at somebody that wasn`t there. He stands at meadows that aren`t there.
Dear Diary,
Finally, he heard me, he knows my name and says it`s his own. It`s so weird but he knows what I am thinking. He knows everybody I ever met. So I said âwho are you?â for the last time he looked at me and said âI am going homeâ but then he walked to my childhood home. Who is he? Because I do not know.
By Emre Rotherfield.
WHO??
chaper 1
31ST MAY
I woke up the strange boy I always see is there walking up and down the stream. Heâs always alone; he has no parents there anybodyâs ever with him. I call out âhiâ but he didnât answer. I always asked myself who is he where does he come from. I notice he is always wearing old fashion clothes; why is it when the sunlight shine on his back there is no shadow. He looks so familiar but I just canât remember who he is!
Chapter 2
The strange boy is there again he only comes at sunset and sunrise I called out to him; he does not answers was like he was completely deaf
So I decided to go over there âwhat is your nameâ I say, he does not respond he continues walking his path. What will he do where will he go I wonder because I do not know.
Who?
Along time ago, there was an old man and his name was Charles. He just got back from his job and was walking past the buildings and the shops. Minding his own business, suddenly he saw something! It almost looked like he recognised him but couldnât quite figure who. It was a boy. Every time he called the mysterious boy and he could not hear him. The man just thought that he was hallucinating and went back to his old little home past the shops and the buildings. He cooked himself an apple pie and when he finished it he went to his comfy bed. But a dream appeared into his mind. The boy was there right in front of him. As the boy was turning around, his body was glowing. Just about when he got to see his face. Just when he needed a tiny glimpse he woke up. When he woke up he changed in his clothes and ate breakfast and went to work just the same old everyday life. When he got back from work, he went back to check on the boy. Back to the fields he went were the houses were around before⌠this time the boy was sitting down beside the field as usual not showing his face. The man looked around were the houses used to be around the fields. He went to the boy and he was wearing old fashioned clothes. He spoke to him and when he told him this question: whatâs your name? Mine is Charles. But when He was close enough to hear him he replied âMy name is also Charles,â and as he said that, he turned and showed his face. Finally he recognised the boy. The boy was him in his childhood the man was the boy and the boy was the manâŚ
By: Aron
Who? Wednesday 17th August 1983
Dear Diary,
Today was the most confusing day of my life. Itâs been happening since yesterday. I opened the curtains in my room and stared at the mystery figure standing by the shimmering stream. Who was this man? What is he doing here? I have been wondering all day who this person might be. At first I thought it was a dream but I felt it was real. As the day went by it seemed to be getting more and more confusing.
Dear Dairy, Thursday 18th August 1983
Today was just like yesterday. Confusing and very mysterious. I opened my curtains and looked back outside. The person was still there standing and wandering alone. Why does this boy only come out at sunrise and sunset? Today I thought I had to speak up and ask him some questions. I opened my window and shouted âHello, boy WHO ARE YOU, and why are you all alone!?â He never replied so I decided to go outside. But he was gone; Iâll do it tomorrow then.
Dear Dairy, Friday 19th August 1983
Todays the day I finally find out who this strange boy is. But Iâm nervous. What do I do? How do I do it?
5am
Its sunrise and I am all set up but Iâm still anxious. I ran downstairs; I opened the door slowly. There he was, âHello there I just want to know who you are and why are you always here?â I asked. Then he turned around, my palms started getting sweaty. âHi, oh my name is Charles and-âfor a moment there I froze. Was he⌠No it couldnât be.
By Amani â 6 Onyx
Rotherfield
WHO??
Dear diary,
Early this morning when I was looking outside my window, I saw something strange. There was a boy outside wondering by the canal. Even though the sun shone on him, he had no shadow. What was going on? Who was he? Why was he here? I call him but he does not hear me. Is he deaf?
Dear diary,
Every day I look out my window and I have noticed he only comes out when he the sun is rising and the sun was going down. Iâve seen him properly this time he has old fashioned clothes and old raged clothes. What should I do when I see him again?
Dear diary,
Today I saw him again but there was dust was laying everywhere where there use to be houses everywhere and I only see meadows everywhere. Where had the houses gone?
Dear diary,
Iâve seen him again this time he is by the water when I go near him why does he say that his name is my own? What does he mean? Is he lying to me? Is he telling me the truth?
Wednesday 17th August 1983
Who?
Dear Diary,
Today was the most confusing day of my life. Itâs been happening since yesterday. I opened the curtains in my room and stared at the mystery figure standing by the shimmering stream. He had no shadow even though the sun was shining directly at him. What is going on, is this a dream? I have been wondering all day who this person might be. At first I thought it was nothing so I carried on with my day as usual. As the day went by it seemed to be getting more and more confusing.
Thursday 18th August 1983
Dear Diary,
Today was just like yesterday. Confusing and very mysterious. I opened my curtains and looked back outside. The person was still there standing and wondering alone. Why does this boy only come out at sunrise and sunset? Today I thought I had to call out to him. I opened my window and shouted out to him. Who are you small boy what are you doing all alone? He didnât reply. He didnât even turn around. I didnât understand why he couldnât hear me. I turned away and then looked back. He had disappeared.
Friday 19th August 1983
Dear diary,
Today was the day I finally went out and spoke to that mysterious boy. This morning I looked out of my window to see if he was there. Luckily he was. I got dressed, put on my shoes and jacket and left the house. I walked up to him and called him. âLittle boy please listen to me.â He still didnât say anything. I walked closer and finally he spoke. He said his name was my own. Then at that moment I had a flash back of my past. It was me. I looked like that boy wearing the same old-fashioned clothes as him. Was this true? Is this really what it looks like? Could this boy really be me? The boy turned around and disappeared. This was the last time I ever saw that little boy again
By Ayesha â 6 Onyx
Rotherfield
Who???
Chapter 1
October 20th
The sun was shining; I opened my curtains to revile a strange figure just sitting aimlessly by my garden gate. I slowly pushed the window open and called out to the young boy. No response! I called again he just walked off.
Chapter 2
October 21st
I was confused I wanted to know what he was doing I saw him again I tried to find out why he did not respond to what I had said to him. I realised that he was wearing old fashion clothes and he had no shadow sum how I only see him at sun set and when the sun had falls.
Chapter3
October 23rd
I looked out the window and the dust on the hedge it was strange it was like there was no horses I sore him a gene I looked at him and realised it was me on my tenth birthday.
WHO??
Dear diary,
Early this morning when I was looking outside my window, I saw something strange. There was a boy outside wandering by the canal. When I saw him I had a flashback of my childhood. Light shone on him, but there was no shadow. Every day I look out my window and I have noticed that he only comes out when the sun is rising or going down. What should I do when I see him again?
Dear diary,
Today I saw the boy again; this time he was looking at the dust by the great field. I spotted that he was wearing old fashioned raggedy clothes. I opened my window and called out to him but he didnât respond why is he ignoring me maybe heâs deaf or maybe heâs just ignoring me.
Dear diary,
I had the strangest conversation with the boy today. When he was walking by the canal as normal, he started mumbling words. So I went closer to see what soft words he was saying. I asked what his name was, but without looking up, he said his name was the same as min. A shiver went down my spine. Who was he? What was going on? Then, he turned to face me. It was like I was looking in a mirror. Was he me? Am I a ghost?
I like your use of questions to end the diary entries. What do you think your questions encourage the reader to do?
Who?
Monday 7th October 1876
I woke up on a normal day and open my curtains, the sun was shining. Something strange was outside a silhouette was standing in the park. I wanted to go greet him but I wasnât aloud outside until I was to finish my -homework. As it puffed out smoke from a cigarette I was tempted to sneak outside.
Tuesday 8th October 1876
The following Day I decided to look for him (on my own). I wanted to have a new friend so without thinking I set off. I saw it. It was beside my favourite flower. I chased after it. It was very good at parkour it jumped across rooftops and buildings. I shouted âI donât want to hurt you I want to be friendsâ. Why is it that I see him at sunset and sun rise? Why is it he reminds me of my past?
Wednesday 9th October 1876
I was very frustrated. If this mysterious figure doesnât talk to me I will forget about him and carry on with my life. I thought why does he move like a wraith by the water? Why does he say his name is my own? I stood there puzzled. No. A portal opened the silhouette ran towards it. Could this be the end of him-he was gone. Where I donât know. Why I donât know.
Thursday 10th October 1876
I was very sad, I just decided I should live a normal life, figure or no figure I will still be happy. A tear dropped on my diary and smudged a letter. As much as I tried to hold it in, tears kept on falling. There was only silence.
Who?
Tuesday 16th April 1986
Dear Diary,
Today the weirdest thing happened to me. When I was opening my curtains, I saw an unusual sight; a strange looking boy standing deadly still. Mesmerise by the glistering stream. Confused, I wanted to go and ask him why he was standing there and what he wanted from my garden?
Wednesday 17th April 1986
Dear Diary,
This afternoon when I was going to water my plants I saw him again. Why do I always see him in sunrise and in the sunset and him wearing old-fashioned clothes? Itâs hard to believe that he doesnât have a shadow and doesnât answer people.
Thursday 18th April 1986
Dear Diary,
This evening I saw him again, so I decided to speak to him but he didnât answer me, so I shouted and I said âLittle boy what are you doing over there?â but he still didnât answer. When I stood next to him to see what he was doing, I asked him what his name was, he replied his name was my ownâŚ
Who?
Dear diary,
The wired this happen to me to day I woke up like normal, and I saw a boy. I tried to call out to him but he didnât hear me. I donât know if he was deaf? But the weird thing was he is always there day and night. When I looked at him, it was like I saw him before. He looked familiar, but I couldnât recognise him. He looked like me!
Dear diary,
I keep on seeing that boy again when I see his face it was like looking in the mirror. But he was in old fashioned cloths it reminded me like when I was a little boy. He is always at the river looking down at the fish. when the sun shines on the boy he has no shadow. When I went down to speak to him he said his name was my own.
Sid: onyx class
Who?
I slowly climb out of bed in my lonely cabin.
I glance out my foggy window and see a translucent figure walking in a sluggish pace by the quivering stream. Rubbing my eyes to make sure they are not deceiving me. Why does he seem not to hear, though I call to him? Where does he come from, what is his name? I look at him intensely as the sunrises I expect him to cast a shadow.
I open my window, âgood morning, who are you? What is your name? How old are you?â I shouted, but no reply. Why is ignoring me? Maybe he is deaf. I try to get closer to this boy but nothing seems to be there. Finally I get close to him I ask him what is your name? But I knew would not he answer me so I
WHO?
Saturday 25th May 1872
Dear Diary,
Every day at sunrise and sunset, I see a boy wandering down by the river just outside my house. Even though I call him every single day to ask him his name and where he comes from, there was no answer. As well as this, he doesnât have a shadow; he walks round the same circle every day. Iâm starting to think he`s a ghost now.
Why do I only see meadows where the houses should be? Why is the dust so thick where the horses pull the ploughs? He`s moving like a wraith by the water. I donât get it he should hear me unless he`s deaf, he should get hungry and go to the shop instead of walking around, and why doesnât he have shadow?
Sunday 26th May 1872
The next day, the boy was still there. I go to talk to the boy. I say âWhat is your name. He replies âmy name is yours only my. Give me my house back before I do it for youâ he says .I reply âWhat do you mean, this is my house how do you know my name.
WHO?
Saturday 25th May 1872
Dear Diary,
Every day at sunrise and sunset, I see a boy wandering down by the river just outside my house. Even though I call him every single day to ask him his name and where he comes from, there was no answer. As well as this, he doesnât have a shadow; he walks round the same circle every day. Iâm starting to think he`s a ghost now.
Why do I only see meadows where the houses should be? Why is the dust so thick where the horses pull the ploughs? He`s moving like a wraith by the water. I donât get it he should hear me unless he`s deaf, he should get hungry and go to the shop instead of walking around, and why doesnât he have shadow?
Sunday 26th May 1872
The next day, the boy was still there. I go to talk to the boy. I say âWhat is your name. He replies âmy name is yours only my. Give me my house back before I do it for youâ he says .I reply âWhat do you mean, this is my house how do you know my name.
Dear Diary, Thursday 14th September 1996
Today the weirdest thing happened to me. When I was opening my curtains, I saw an unusual sight; a strange boy standing deadly still. When I looked closer I found out that he looked like someone I knew although I donât know who .He was wandering around by the glistening stream, looking at the beautiful fish, swimming in the water. I felt so confused about who he reminded me of.
Dear Diary, Friday 15th September 1996
Today, when I was hanging the washing up, I saw the boy again sitting on the wall. What was he doing there? I asked him what he wanted but he didnât answer me, I tried to think about why he didnât have a shadow and why he always wore those old fashioned clothes. Why do I always see him at sunrise and sunset? Why is it always at those times?
Dear Diary, Saturday 16th September 1996
This afternoon I went to the park and found that the boy was on the swing. He was speaking to someone even though there was nobody there. I try to find the houses but they were all gone and I didnât know where they were. Slowly, I walked to the boy and said ââHello, who are you?ââ but he didnât answer. The boy gave a sigh and walked off as if he didnât hear me.
Dear Diary, Sunday 17th September 1996
This morning, I went to speak to the boy one final time. I went down to the stream, where the boy usually is. I shouted to him ââWho are YOU!ââ. He stood up and I looked at him and he looked at me ,It was as if there was a mirror in between us. He stood up and said ââMy name is Michael,ââ. I felt a shiver in my hands. He had the name of my own.
HI Kestia,
I like the way you use a number of diary entries to build up suspense.
Who?
I slowly climb out of bed in my lonely cabin. I glance out my foggy window and see a translucent figure walking at a sluggish pace by the quivering stream. Rubbing my eyes to make sure they are not deceiving me, I look out of the window again, I see the figure walking in circles aimlessly.
Cautiously, I open my door and walk out âH-helloâ I say, slightly frightened âw-who are you⌠tell me!â is say gaining confidence. The sun started to rise expecting a shadow I see nothing âW-what are youâŚâ I step back. I open my door and run in I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I open my eyes and look out my window and see⌠nothing?
It is now 8 oâclock I open my door and straitened my suite ready for work when I see the boy again I put my hands on my eyes in disbelief when I take them off the disappeared what is going on? Am I going insane? I take a deep breath and continue on my way to work.
Days have passed and this boy keeps haunting me he keeps appearing and disappearing itâs driving me insane! I storm out of bed and confront the boy âPLEASE!â I drop to my knees âJust tell me who you are youâve been driving me crazy!â The boy turned around slowly and looked into my eyes
âM-my name is Charles Crossleyâ my eyes widen, but how? âIâm lost please help me I canât find my way back homeâ I touch the boyâs shoulder it sinks through I touch my hand in fascination,
âYouâre right at homeâŚme.â
Dear Death,
Who is that child strolling down the road? Why doesnât he reply when I ask him his name was? Why is going to the same direction?
Why do I see him on every sunset and sunrise with no shadow? Whirring the clothes I remember seeing.
I feel like I saw him rushing towards a polite woman.
What is that thing I see over there roaming, roaming on the edge of the silent riverbank?
Why does he not hear even when I yell at him?
On what planet does he live on and what is his name?
I see him in the evening and at dawn,
Hovering in torn -patched up clothes.
When he moves he does not cast a shadow,
Even in the light still not a thing.
Why does he move like a soaring eagle?
Soft as a kitten when the wind blows.
I get closer so I can hear him
HE SAYS THAT HIS NAME IS MY OWN!
Hi Sumaya,
It’s fantastic to see you so inspired and writing in your own time.
This is a lovely re-imagining of the original.