Year 6 were inspired to write with deep emotion and created beautiful imagery after talking about some mysterious artefacts (including a bag of gold coins, a blood stained shirt, red lace and a love letter) and then hearing Alfred Noyce's poem "The Highwayman."
The Highwayman has just heard that Bess, the landlord’s daughter has died; the Highwayman's love. Her soul gone from the world.
His anger flared up, no reason to live, an empty hole in the middle of his stomach. Night falls and a storm rages up, as he rides through the night, climbing off his horse he shrieks at the heavens silence, the storm ends abruptly, like God answered the howling himself the night as black as the scales on a dragon.
Gently, silently, he lays Bess's body in a dirty damp ditch; he scrabbles at dirt angrily, letting the anger bubble inside him, oblivious to the rain hammering down upon them. Slowly, silently he reaches for the knife in his pocket, feeling its sharp blade he feels their presence. The killers, the bloodthirsty killers, ready to pounce; he punched the blade into his stomach, screaming in agony. He falls silently his spirit slips away, not giving the murderers a chance to destroy another life. He looks up; the last thing he sees is the moon, shining like a star.
By George 6C
He heard them before he saw them. The sound of boots on the cobbles, and the bang of gloved hands on the window. Slowly the landlord opened the door for the men of King George. They stormed through the house, ignoring him. Instead they sat, drinking his ale, and smoking his pipes.
Pushed into a corner, he looked on, astonished, confused, until through the door came Tim. Tim, the ostler.
As Tim told him, he imagined the scene. He stared out the grimy window, seeing his Bess and the Highwayman. He almost heard the Highwayman's words and he wanted to cry out, but his voice had gone.
His heart, body and soul filled with rage. Bess, his daughter, his life, had betrayed him, disobeyed him.
A shot rang out. He froze. Then he ran up the stairs, two at a time. He stopped in the doorway. In the window stood Bess, her head framed with a halo of moonlight, her breast drenched with blood, her finger on the trigger of a gun.
By Naomi 6C
I'm the landlord's daughter, the landlord's black-eyed daughter, with a dark red love knot in my long black hair. As I waited and waited, waiting for my Highwayman to come riding out of the moonlight, I kept my love a secret as I love this man.
I heard in the distance King George's men come marching. They didn't say a word to my father; they drank his ale instead. They gagged me and bound me to the foot of my narrow bed. I twisted my hands behind me, but all the knots held good!
I writhed my hands until my fingers were wet with sweat or blood.
By Mair 6C
