The Master’s House

THE DOOR OF RESPECT

Walk across a historical map carved into the ground,

And approach the crescent archway above the step,

There’s no number on this grand door,

It’s as black as the night sky, the handle is a star,

It feels smooth but rough in places,

As if a distressed cat had jumped up and scratched it,

Open up! As loud as a giant’s foot stamping!

A warm welcome from Edward Cowper,

“Step right in and have a look around!”

Everywhere your eyes can see there is wood

With strong bolts holding it together,

It’s a building made of skeleton bones,

An old smell flies around,

There’s a waiting throne and ancient writing

Back in time your steps will go, like a time machine,

A story film changes the town for future generations,

Illustrated pictures move in wooden books like they’re alive,

But books aren’t just stories,

Some tell of a house’s life, like mine and yours

Here is the remarkable library,

Where books come in and books go out,

My favourite book is waiting for me!

The walls are wrinkled like an old man’s skin,

You can almost feel the heat of the oven from 1770,

A tangly fox of wire is frozen like a statue,

White see-through ghosts haunt the glass doors,

The beams are trees, flags hang from them like leaves

Written by Ben, Jack, Joel, Julia, Logan, Nicky, Taylor and Toby

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