Senior School News

War poetry was the central theme for Term 1, Year 10 English Elective: All Lit Up.

As part of their assessment task, students were required to collect a variety of poems representative of varying wars that have taken place throughout history and that covered multiple perspectives.

Within their portfolio students provided a justification for why they had included their selected poems, researched contextual information regarding the author and the related war, and developed extended evaluations of the way in which literary devices were used to construct meaning and impact the reader.

The final component of the assessment was to apply literary devices and themes/ideas they had discovered through their analysis to create their own war poem. Below are the second set of student poems to be published within The Duce series.

Olivia Wenczel
All Lit Up
LATL English

The Nek

Jasper Volpe 10D

The Nek appeared as the grim reaper, staring us down,

Smiling as it found nothing but a dreaded frown.

The suppression and volleys of cannon fire,

Did nothing to help the situation that was dire.

Onlookers we were,

As the cannons attempted to deter,

And deter they did,

As the Turks hid.


We were ready right after the barrage,

But no order was given to charge,

As we sat there wondering about our fate,

Were the cannons early or we too late?


The Captain looked around, confused

While the grim reaper appeared amused,

His Turkish minions began to reset,

Watching us as we fret.


A call was made from within our trench,

Sounded worse then the smell of a rotten stench,

The grim reaper smiled, as soldiers started to grieve,

We were to charge, which no one could believe.


Writing and saying our goodbyes, we were ready,

To enter the field of death littered with red confetti,

The grim reaper eagerly awaiting the slaughter,

The whistle blew, the first went over, and the rest loiter.


Onlookers we were, filled with shock,

As the first quickly fell like rocks,

Whistle sounds, the second go over, they too drop,

Onlookers we were, the bodies come to a stop.


Whistle sounds, the third wonder if they realise it’s a fail,

An onlooker I was, with the feeling of guilt and betrayal,

My comrades fell, the sight was vile.

The last thing I saw, was the Nek’s smile.


The trench felt empty,

The weight of guilt was hefty,

Attacks were finally called to a stop,

Last of the third, I felt like a lifeless prop.




Back to The Duce Issue 2015 06 - 7 May 2015