English

'Good words are worth much and cost little.'

Profile

News

Poetry

Activities

Work

Reading

Department Profile

Carolyn Russell began teaching at Abbey Gate College in 2001 has been Head of Department since 2004. She reads a wide range of literature and the most memorable novels she has read so far are 'Bleak House' by Charles Dickens and 'Orlando' by Virginia Woolf. Poetry is also much loved; currently she is enjoying poems by George Mackay Brown, Seamus Heaney and Carol Ann Duffy. A fascination with other cultures and cultural exchange has resulted in postgraduate studies in this field; she is currently writing a Masters' thesis on a colonial/post-colonial New Zealand poet.

Although Sandra Kinsey has been a part time member of the department since 1994, she first arrived at Abbey Gate College back in 1982, teaching full time until 1989. She reads a variety of literature but particularly enjoys the Victorian novel. 'Middlemarch' would be a must for her desert island. She finds teaching Speech and Drama most rewarding and has examined for the English Speaking Board in the past.

Karen Roden joins the school in September 2003. She particularly enjoys teaching poetry with personal favourites being WW1 poets, Thomas Hardy, Seamus Heaney and Gillian Clarke. Her interests go beyond her subject as archeology, the Roman Empire, and many other aspects of world history also fascinate her. This led to her studying for a Diploma in European Humanities. She is also a qualified journalist. In her spare time she enjoys exploring remote British islands with her family; going to the theatre, driving around Europe; watching aircraft; and, collecting thirties pottery.

Nerys Moses joined the English Department in September 2004 as a full time teacher. Whilst enjoying reading many different genres of literature she is particularly interested in teenage fiction. The works of Malorie Blackman are currently amongst her favourites. Prior to teaching she gained qualifications in personnel Management and worked in industry.

News Desk

The Bad Mother's Handbook, by Kate Long, was published on 19th March, 2004, by Picador, as their leading fiction title for the year.
Kate was a member of the English department at Abbey Gate College for many years and we are delighted and proud that she has been so successful with her writing. As the many pupils who have had the good fortune to be taught by Kate would doubtless confirm, she has an original mind and this individuality is very evident in her work.
The novel, written for an adult audience, was chosen by Radio 4 as their Book at Bedtime around the date of publication.

Poetry Competition

First, Second and Third Year students entered the Young Writers' Poetry in Motion regional competition last year. The best entries have been published in a volume which includes fifty-four First Year poems, nine from the Second Year and twenty from the Third Year. You can read a selection on this website in the student work section.
Congratulations to all those who entered.

Lunchtime Activities

There are a number of activities running in the Library at lunchtime. See notices for details.
Recent additions are a Student Magazine on Tuesday and Creative Writing on Friday.
A junior editing team is putting the Student Magazine together. It is going to be produced each half-term and will be full of news, information, competitions and activities, and sold in aid of the Hope House Hospice. Look out for fliers with details. Anyone interested, please join us.
Write Now!, the school's creative writing sheet features student work. You can submit either poems or stories. Friday's lunchtime session is an opportunity to exchange ideas and pick up tips for your writing. Also look out for the Creative Writing magazine in the Library.

Student Work

Latest Poems

Don’t Label Me

I am quiet, but not strange,
Let me explain myself,
I want to live with you,
Be like you,
Protect you,
But I will never be you,
In a land of white doves,
I am faithful to the ravens,
I will always be human,
Like you,
Just not you.

By: Danica Astbury – Year 7

Cold in Your Shadow

I’m hidden by the column of stars,
I’m on my silver cloud fishing for dreams,
A thread of moonlight is my line, my hook imagination,
It’s cold here in your shadow but I don’t want to fall.

You’re a white sea of tranquillity,
A ghostly galleon tossing upon cloudy seas,
I’m so forlorn with the Galaxies below me,
It’s cold here in your shadow but I don’t want to fall.

My dream not to be stuck in this picture
In a posture of sadness and hurt,
The darkness in which I am hidden is tyrant twisting
My silent pain,
It’s cold here in your shadow but I don’t want to fall.

By: Tuesday Knowles – Year 7

Death

Its temptation is the worst,
It’s like clasping your heart and stopping it beating, squeezing it till it starts to leak blood.
Its stench is like rotten decaying bodies dumped in a pit.
It bubbles up inside you like lava ready to erupt.
Its deep reddy blackish colour is like a blood shot eye, tempting you to scratch it.
It’s as sly as a cat, and as bitter as a lemon.
As quick as a cobra striking you and piercing your skin with its venomous fangs.

By Katie Blythe

In A Summer Garden

It was a warm Sunday afternoon. Tom sat contentedly in his deck chair, enjoying the peace, beauty and order of his English country garden in its summer splendour.
Giant marigolds beamed boldly from the borders like a magnificent pride of lions. Rambling roses covered the picket fence like a blanket, studded with regal red rubies. Potted pansies nodded in the breeze like a delegation of polite Chinese diplomats.
In the orchard a single starling sat gorging itself on juicy, ripe cherries, tossing the stones over its shoulder like Henry Tudor’s disposal of chicken bones during his royal banquets. Tom’s old black and white cat eyed the plump starling with relish. He circled the base of the tree like a Morris Man dancing round the Maypole. But his patient ritual was in vain-the bird simply flew away. Taking exception, the cat skulked off like a moody movie star who leaves the set whispering, “I vant to be alone!”

By Todd Carter

Nature

The suns rays stretch their long fingers, as if trying to grip something to stop itself disappearing. Ducks swim to their nests with their young closely following. Birds peck at the ground for worms and swoop back to their nests to feed their babies, which squawk for food. The corn sways like hair in the gentle breeze as children’s fingertips touch them. The colour of the flowers petals illuminate as the glint of the sun starts its magical work, the blue and purple colours cover the sky, clouds like whipped cream.
The water of the pond ripples as bugs hover above it. Trees sway their long spindly branches and their leaves crackle as the cooling breeze brushes past them. A flock of small birds swoop over me but they suddenly spilt up and a beautiful kestrel struts its stuff spreading its wings out swooping low and high, it was as if it was on stage.
The sun slowly sinks behind the mountains, taking its last glimpse of the world, soon ‘ NIGHT’ the king of darkness will take over the sky.
Plants close up for the night, cows settle down in their groups to keep warm. Silence is everywhere…
Darkness smothers the blue sky strangling it so it can’t breath choking, choking. It wins, and it now covers everything, no life can be seen only the sorrow and mournfulness of the night. No noise can be heard just silence; all the animals wait and wait till morning comes.
The sun awakes and slowly swiftly begins to rise, the animals also begin to awake and soon the sound of birds songs echoes around the skies and woods. But its all not so perfect a grey and white feather floats down from the sky, and there below that single feather lies the carcass of a pigeon, death surrounded it. A fox was the murderer, but soon the sun is high again and all is normal.

By Katie Blythe

The Raven

Plans for a film set, character, and costume
The Main Character: The main character is to be played by Daniel Day-Lewis. His costume is to be a workman’s suit, black and uncreased with highly polished, black lace-up shoes. His hair is to be brown, neatly cut, and quite short. This man is wearing thin and round-framed glasses as if he is a college professor. His shirt is blue (quite dark), and he is wearing a plain, very dark, blue tie.
The Set: The set is a rather large lounge. It has a fire in one corner of the room (wood), and an old armchair in front of it. There are lights all around the room; three are placed on each wall. There are four walls, two of which are lined with old dusty books (very thick), about old tales, historical books, and classic books by authors such as Charles Dickens and Jane Austen. The room is very richly decorated with silk purple curtains, plenty of antiques, many silk pillows (greens, blues, browns), an old oak mantle piece with ornaments and a broken clock on it. The main focal point of the room is a golden-framed picture of Lenore, which is a painted portrait with a forced smile and has eyes that follow you around the room. There are plenty of unlit candles and there is a sheepskin rug placed in front of the fire. An enormously heavy castle-styled oak door is in the corner of the room.

By Fayona Cowperthwaite

Bank Robbery of the Century

'So you say you know what you're doing and have done this kind of job before.' Jack started to speak but I cut him off in mid speech.
'Look I know your just doing the job for the money but I can't afford any mess ups.'
'You can trust me, I'll do my best, so can I have the job then' said Jack.
'Hmmm, yes okay, but I don't want any mess-ups or you'll regret ever getting involved. You'll find half the money in that envelope over there on the desk, you'll get the rest after the job. Don't worry you'll get it. Now, you know what you have to do.'
'Yes' said Jack. You can count on me.'
'Good, now just leave through that door and shut it behind you.'
The next morning I decided to go over the plans for the bank again, as it's the bank of England I've had to think very carefully about the security etc. I've carefully selected eight men to carry out the job including Jack who's to be the person who drives away with the money. Interestingly enough no one knows who I am, they have never actually seen me, I just pay them and pick up the stole goods at a specified point I a graveyard.
I don't actually do it for the money, I do it to see whether or not I can get away with it.

Factor Of Fear

Run, hide, escape from this terror,
This is more than a thriller,
This rotten misfortune
Is a potential killer.

Its teeth are sharp,
Its eyes are gold,
It searches for food
Wherever its told.

That monstrous look,
As the terror is pure,
It’l rip you apart
In a second, I’m sure

Its out tonight,
So you better take care,
Its coming to get you,
Watchout, BEWARE.

by Michael Evans

How Can That Be My Father?

How can that be my father? How can he dress like that?
Cycling through the darkness, in goggles and a hat.
With perspiration flowing, his long legs pump like mad!
He rides in search of fitness and comes home looking sad.

How can that be my father? When did he lose his zest?
He played for Wales at volleyball in the number 6 red vest.
His trophy in the cabinet, I touched with childlike pride.
But now the gold paint’s wearing thin and peeling off one side!