The Clachan Flood – in the eyes and voices of the children

Having got down to being a valuable part of the village clean up, some of the children of Clachan School wrote poems about the whole bolt-from-the-blue experience as they saw and felt it.

They make insightful reading – and what an imaginative notion on the part of their school to turn negative to positive so thoughtfully.

We thought that publishing what they had written might give them something in return for all they did when their village needed them – as well as recognising the power of their rich imaginations.

Flash Flood

The thunder was like an arrow striking down
And the lightning was like a spear flashing down on the ground.
The rain was hammering, drumming noisily, loudly.
Hailstones were white, freezing, transparent banging and slicing like tiny daggers.
Brown muddy water, cloudy and gushing rapidly.
Afterwards it stopped.
Slowly.
Like a swan.

By Leo Silvan (P4)

Flash Flood

First the slow rumble from the air like a million tanks starting their engines.
Next, the flashes from their turrets.
Then the rain started slowly then it was like a drum roll.
Next thing we knew there were hailstones the size of marbles.
Then the water came like an irrepressible tsunami tearing everything apart.
The playground was engulfed in seconds.
The next day Clachan is in parts.

By Martin Brown (P7)

Flash Flood

The rain was hammering and drumming loudly.
The freezing hailstones were coming down like tiny daggers.
The brown muddy water was moving rapidly, flooding the playground
and tearing the road.

By Eilidh Norris (P3)

Flash Flood

Rumbling and thundering over the sky,
across the swish and swirling sea.
Something was happening in God’s kingdom.
Perhaps God was moving his furniture around.
Suddenly a flash of lightning struck and struck again.
Rumbles of thunder could be heard from every house,
Babies crying, shouting,
even dogs howling.

Then a war started.
Flood against the world.
Hailstones came down, freezing, sharp
and unstoppable like tiny daggers slicing through the air.
Muddy brown cloudy water booming over the world,
Swirling, sweeping, gushing, crushing, ripping roads like a lion.
Rapidly growing, spreading like butter,
Engulfing the world.

Then suddenly silent
It had stopped.

By Morvern Paisley (P5)