For our last Literacy Legend segment for the year, we thought it would be great to celebrate some of the awesome work the Grade 8s have been doing in their current 'Ballad' unit.  After learning about the language and structural features of this form of poetry, the students were challenged to write their own ballad.  Here are some examples of their work.  Please enjoy!

Black Friday Fires

It was January 13 1939, the middle of a summer dry and hot
The droughts came and the wind blew a lot
It was quiet in Uriarra station with not even a stir
But when the smoke came it all turned to a blur

When the first tree sparked the bush caught ablaze
And the state of Victoria turned into a craze
The fires spread ever so fast
Then they burned up all of the dry grass

The fires are getting closer to the trees
But when the hose turns on we’ll be put on our knees
The water starts and the fires spit
The blaze is out and smokes quite a bit

Everything is gone, it’s burnt to the floor
The only thing that remains is our metal front door
The metal on the floor which was once a home
Looks like it was hit by a catastrophic cyclone

‘The koalas are dying’ the vet explained
‘There’s nothing we can do even though we’re highly trained’
‘They are burnt and bleeding and in lots of pain’
‘Nothing could have saved them, nothing but the rain

The fires stopped, our work is done
It lasted forever but we have finally won
We gathered our equipment and rolled up our hose
We never wanted the fires to start but that’s just how it goes

Everything was burnt, the grass is black
Burnt to the ground are things we can never get back
The sky was still smoky and dark
The ground was covered by charcoaled tree bark

The hospitals were full and resources were low
Seventy one lives lost, burnt from head to toe
The shelters overflowed like never before
The now homeless people covered the floor 

It’s time to rebuild, now the fires are gone
The smoke has cleared and we can finally see dawn
Seven hundred homes destroyed, there’s so much now to do
But a community united will stick together like glue

We can never escape the flames, there always here
When summer comes they will be near
We will rise from the ashes all big and grand
Together as one in this ‘Great Southern Land’

Liana Connie

Donald Bradman

Donald Bradman, named by his dad
Knew he was poor but embraced what he had
Grew up in a town in New South Wales
Made lots of runs, had no fails

Donald Bradman, born in 1908
To find out he would be an Aussie great
Donald Bradman, elite even when he was young
Grew up to bat an average of almost a tonne

Started off with a golf ball and stump
Taught him how to hit the ball with a thump
Donald Bradman, in the hall of fame
Made so many runs, he can’t be to blame

Donald Bradman, had a unique style
Started off disliked, but loved after a while
Donald Bradman, brother to four
And if you asked him, he wished he had more

Donald Bradman, high score of 334
If he didn’t get out he would’ve made more
Donald Bradman, retired after 50 years
Made lots of mates, shared lots of beers

Donald Bradman, destroyed England’s team
While they were trying to bowl like steam
He was making runs with a smile on his face
And after looking at his strike rate, we know he did it at a slow pace

Donald Bradman, world’s number one
Started off, with just having some fun
Donald Bradman, played with finesse
So good, it was hard not to impress 

We remember his style
And we will for a while
We talk about him every day
So in our memories he must stay

Donald Bradman, record breaker at age 22
Unfortunately for us he died in 2002
Donald Bradman, went down a legend
I hope his career went down as he imagined

Donald Bradman, an Australian hero
The legend hardly ever made zero
Donald Bradman, we love you with all out heart
Thank you, for always doing your part.

Digby Bellchambers

Blind Johnny’s Bluff
Johnny was a fat kid
As fat as he was tall
We used to play tricks on him
Until he took a fall.

When we thought he had enough
Usually we were wrong
Because for a fat kid
He was incredibly strong.

Johnny never fought back
Even when they pinned him down
Then they tore off all his clothes
And made him walk through town.

Then on one fateful day
The older kids were smoking
They asked him to play blind man’s bluff
We thought they might be joking.

Before he could reply
Or maybe even protest
They put a blindfold on his eyes
And he walked up to the crest.

Then all of us goaded him
To walk right off the crest
And poor unlucky Johnny
Put his neck right to the test.

And poor unfortunate Johnny
Even though he was quite strong
If anyone thought he would make it
They were incredibly wrong.

The police came a’running
And an ambulance as well
But Johnny’s dad was faster
And his tears could fill a well.

None of us said a word
Our faces solemn and grim
But inside we were guilty
Because we helped kill him.

Fenix Jaitong/Henry McMahon

The Ballad of Phar Lap
Australia was in a tragic state
Rich in poverty, and heading towards a bad fate
Until one day a horse arrived
He would soon be the reason our tears were dried

None really saw him for all that much
An average colt he seemed
They didn’t know he would be their crutch
Or that his potential for racing would soon be redeemed

‘Phar Lap’ was the big chestnut horse’s name
All the way from his birthplace New Zealand he came
David J Davis bought and loved him so
And in return Phar Lap would put on a great show

‘Bet on Phar Lap, he always wins!’
‘Have you seen Phar Lap? He’s taller than me!’
The people would say, all smiles and grins
For the first time in a while they felt happy and free

Harry Telford trained him to be the best race horse around
Fastest in the world, the title he was crowned
But all of those records that Phar Lap broke
Would soon be the reason that Phar Lap would croak

Since Phar Lap was the best, David thought nothing could go wrong
He thought Phar Lap should be greater
He thought this is what he’d been destined all along
Since Phar Lap was so famed and loved, he’d take him to America

All of Australia begged him ‘please don’t go!’
‘Oh Phar Lap, how we love you so!’
They sensed that it would not end well
But they had no choice but to bid him farewell

Amongst Phar Lap’s crowd of fans
Some saw him as competition
And so when he fell into the wrong hands
They broke his winning reputation

No one knows how Phar Lap died
Unravel the mystery, oh how we’ve tried
He collapsed outside a farm in 1932
When Australia heard they couldn’t believe it was true

Phar Lap the horse who gave us hope
Phar Lap with his heart of gold
Phar Lap the horse who helped us cope
Phar Lap the horse whose story will always be told.

Kiara Eamens