Max Todes, OG (Year 6, Age 11)

The arch

Towering above the ground below,

Arching up in the sky,

On stone on stone it stands alone,

In the misty quiet courtyard.

It stands to the very last of days,

Even in the Summer, with the Sun's golden rays,

Even in the Winter, when the waves pound on the shore,

It stands still and sturdy as ever as before.

The Chapel

The rusty hinges on the door,

The towering ceilings up above,

And underneath the dusty floor,

The cobwebs all around,

Cracked down chapel goes in whole,

Burnt to a little crisp.