Rotary Young Writer Competition


We want inspired writers to join the Rotary Young Writers competition. Your child can participate in the competition through Tower's School. To enter, students need to write up to 550 words (or up to forty lines) about ‘My Happiest Day’. There are two age groups: Intermediate (10-13 years old) and Senior (14 -17 years old). For more information or to show your interest, please email either c.hickman@towers.school or r.ferguson@towers.school. The deadline is early November so get involved now!

Young Writer Information Pack 2020-21.pdf
Young Writer Poster 2020-21.pdf

Towers School Poet Laureate 2020-2021

Thank you to all those who submitted poems to the competition for Poet Laureate. We had over twenty entries and we were overwhelmed by how amazing they all were. The decision was tough, and through anonymous voting, we are now splitting the title between KS3 and KS4. We are proud to announce the winners and now the first official Poet Laureates for Towers School are….

Lois – Poet Laureate for KS3 and Kyle - Poet Laureate for KS4.


Every leaf speaks to me,

Fluttering from the autumn tree,

I’m but an autumn leaf upon the ground

A repent of all summer’s past,

The ember sun above me shines

To warm me on my bed of grass;

My golden skin,

Now paper thin,

Moves in rhythm with the wind,

And though I have no place to call home,

I still belong to where seasons roam,

Be it summer, winter, spring or fall,

Regardless of time of day,

Oh how I dance amongst a sea of souls,

Unafraid of change that comes my way,

And though the years may differ each time around,

I will forever be an autumn leaf upon the ground.


The Kaleidoscope

The stitches still seemed fresh,

The event still seemed vague,

The bed still seemed cold and

The recovery still seemed hollow.

Casting my eyes out the open window, a hushing

Breeze bandaged my skin,

Like a sombre blanket covering

The past, soon my future, in the present back within.

Through the window bloomed charming caterwauling,

Flourishing in silk woven amber

Laced to the swooning sleeves of a single sapling

And christened by chirping children, who lumber

Across each fragile philosophy,

Differences divide, no queen nor pawn.

The bishops lost his corny crown, now tumbling in joyous catastrophe

Every piece grins, right and wrong no longer torn.

And the knights chanting with all his friends

of fiery colours he hopes never to end.

And The king cheers for celebration

Wishing this to be his coronation.

And the rook is launching flamboyant shrubs

Whistling in pride for gorgeous cherubs.

Every soul merged to one,

No less. No more. No rich. No poor.

Sparkling ambience sung alive and done.

Creating harmony, creating an addictive paradise, a state of awe.

As I stare out my hospital window, I feel no pain.

No stainless stitches, no hollow brain.

A smile wakes my heart and I no longer hear

The torturous pulse of my medical gear.

So embrace this cosy season. Let it be said,

That today we live, and tomorrow we dread.