Personification is when you give human qualities or abilities to an object or animal. It is a literary tool that adds interest and fun to a poem or story.
We used personification to write poems linked to The Battle of Britain.
The Spectacular Spitfires
Sprinting up and down the run way, the ballerinas of death glanced around at their families.
Arms out stretched, the mighty metal-clad foe stealthily stalked the enemy.
The furious destroyers, who proudly wore the Union Flag zoomed valiantly spitting fiery abuse.
The Iron wing commander danced in the sky, screaming its hatred.
Unforgiving, the glittering armour plucked the feathers off the Messerchmitts, already losing.
German planes dropped like flies, plummeting to the blood-stained earth.
They soared silently, in a killing tango, shouting- in a malicious voice- that they would fight until every Messerchmitt was up in flames.
The metallic monsters puffed out their chests, tasting victory in the air.
Acrid smoke filled the stormy sky, swallowing planes one by one.
Fast and furious, the speedy spitfire performed somersault after somersault, their propellers spinning rapidly.
Only 15 German planes left … 10… 5… 4… 3… 2… one.
The lonely Messerchmitt cried out for its friends.
It glanced round at the gaining spitfires- shivering with fear.
The scared German plane took one slurp of fuel and BANG. The Iron wing commander shot him down.
Enveloped in flame, he let out a piercing scream.
Hurtling to the ground, the furious destroyers cheered with victory.
Pirouetting to the heavens, the mighty spitfires had succeeded in their mission.
The Soaring Spitfires
The iron commander somersaulted above the comforting clouds.
Dancing the killing tango, the deadly destroyers spat out bleeding bullets.
His patriotic partner was swallowed by the foe’s armadas.
The mighty winged warrior valiantly defended the nation below.
With unrelenting determination, the propellers protectively deflected the German bullets,
Then the hurricanes raged in but one or two bravely survived.
A jarring jab dug into his fuselage, then a mighty fire enveloped in his torso,
Gun fires followed by a gut-churning thud onto the ground below.
Spitfire’s population dropped down and down- ten, now five, now three, now one.
A sudden dwindle in his confidence sent him slowly tumbling down,
But bravely thinking of his country, he charged back up into the air, but still feeling alone.
The last plane standing in the heavens, lonely singing a melancholy song.
Britain’s Battle Sky
The Messerschmitt’s mighty, monster wings were stretched out so far along the brink (of air) as she steadied her balance with some talent as she soared so high through the sunlit heavens.
Each large eye with a sparkle of sky, glimmered every few seconds.
So swiftly, so fast, her wheels laughed at the cold, earthy tickling of the concrete surface, the hard concrete surface.
Eagerly, she danced like a ballerina who pranced, ready to kill everyone in her path.
With the armour of a brave knight, she prepared for her fight, like a furiously charging war bull.
And what will she do when she’s finally found you? POUNCE like a courageous lion in attack!
Suddenly, all her dear friends are gone, their metal torsos no longer strong and this made her iron torso no longer shine like the golden lined stars above, so high.
In that moment, she felt lost in time and hurt with depression, she wanted to cry. She zoomed across the starred midnight sky, but a stealthy rusted, golden bullet shot far and deep into her now tragic life.
By Jasmine G
THE BATTLE OF BRITAIN
‘’The battle of France is over. I expect the battle of Britain is about to begin’’.
The metallic monster was jabbing the Messerschmitt with the powerful bullets, flying around in the air above
Arms outstretched, the almighty planes soared stealthily and valiantly, high above the English turf.
In the heavens above it was silent
High in the stormy sky there was smoke everywhere
The shuttering jabber of his malicious voice cut through the air like a knife.
There were 10 planes left now 5, 3 ,2 and 1 alone ,lost and afraid then in a second bang !!!!
Before he lay, a twisted metallic skeleton embedded in the blood stained earth.
By Charlotte Potts