Hi everyone. If you are a student, teacher or parent, there should be more than enough information here to get you through the dreaded Christmas essay! The entire book will be available on Amazon now and the spelling workbook is also. Thanks for all the hits and support and I will be back soon with more descriptive writing passages.
Just click any of the book images at the bottom of this post to see my Amazon book page.
LEVEL 1 LEVEL 2 LEVEL 3 LEVEL 4 LEVEL 5 OTHERS
1. The bleach-white snow didn’t stop whiskey-nosed Santa from coming.
2. The arctic-white snow didn’t delay chipmunk-cheeked Santa one bit.
|blasting storms||flogging squalls||lashing rainstorms||mangling winds||sundering cyclones|
|battering gusts||flaying thunderstorms||lacerating hurricanes||razing windstorms||eviscerating tempests|
1. The storms were blasting outside as the fire inside flooded my face with heat.
2. The thunderstorms were flaying the trees outside as the fire saturated my face with heat.
|empty skies||bleak skies||haunting skies||wan skies||skeletal skies|
|lonely skies||bitter skies||pasty skies||blanched skies||cadaverous skies|
1. The fire baptised us in heat as the lonely sky outside hung sadly.
2. The fire felt like warm butter melting on our faces as the bitter sky outside wept.
|winter chokes||winter smothers||winter stifles||winter constricts||winter garrottes|
|winter squeezes||winter strangles||winter suffocates||winter throttles||winter asphyxiates|
1. Winter choked the land as a pale, winter’s moon hung in the sky.
2. Winter strangled the land as a pearly moon filled the sky.
|shivering bodies||stiff limbs||chattering teeth||skin-seeping cold||chilblained feet|
|quivering bodies||sore joints||tingling fingertips||brandy-noses snuffle||hypothermia and gangrene|
1. Our bodies shivered as the radiant light of the fire warmed us up.
2. Our stiff limbs defrosted as the lambent light of the fire heated us up.
- The buttery potatoes went down well as the Christmas presents were a-shine in the corner.
- The tea tannins felt wholesome as the Christmas ornaments were a-dazzle all around us.
- The sparkling champagne tasted divine and the glasses were a-glitter from the fire.
- The gamy goose was packed with herbs and spices. It steamed quietly as the decorations were a-flash all around the room.
- The joy of Christmas seemed to have been poured into the thyme-filled turkey. It tasted heavenly as glasses clinked, laughter rang out and the candles were a-flicker with delight.
LEVEL 1: BASIC SENTENCES
- The snow was whalebone-white. SNOW COLOUR
- The battering gusts were awful. SOUND
- The screeching winds were dreadful. STORMS
- A gentle hush cloaked the land. SILENCE
- The gravel-grey skies were bare. SKY COLOUR
- The empty skies were silent. BARREN SKIES
- Winter squeezes everything to death. CHOKING WINTER
- Peppery scents filled the room. SMELL
- Our quivering bodies were cold. SENSATION
- The seasoned vegetables were delicious. TASTE
LEVEL 2: A BASIC PARAGRAPH
The snow was polar-white. The flogging squalls of winter blew loudly. Screeching winds occasionally rose up. When they died, a tomb-like silence haunted the land. Flint-grey skies oversaw the land. The bleak skies were depressing. Winter smothered the land with its vice-like grip. Malt liqueurs, taken to warm up chilled bodies, were a poor substitute for the sun. Sore joints creaked and groaned like rusty hinges. The scent of creamy, mushroom vol–au-vents floating through the house cheered us up.
LEVEL 3: CREATIVE PARAGRAPHS
The snow was zombie-white. Winter’s lacerating hurricanes and whining winds had come and gone, leaving a terrible calmness. The skies above were an unholy mixture of shale-grey clouds and pasty streaks. Callous winter was stifling the world with its icy breath.
I could see a group of kidults playing on a frozen pond. They stamped their frozen feet and thumped their chilly bodies to warm up. Their ears caught fire and turned an icy-blue where their scarves couldn’t reach. Nose-icicles dripped from their frozen faces. Their wheezy, wind-filled lungs were belching out steam as they itched and scratched at their raw skin. They started skating. They slipped, slid and slithered on the polished ice. Hissing and swishing with their skates, they swooped and whooped across the ice. Then they screamed as the ice broke. It must have felt like lances of fire lighting up their skin as they fell in to the perishing cold water.
Their teeth were chattering when they crawled back out. They followed the oaken oven smells home to warm up. I hoped that the yeasty beer would warm their hearts as their bodies were frozen.
LEVEL 4: ADVANCED PARAGRAPHS
I stared into the fire. It crackled and spat before hissing into life. Its lambent light stole away the velvet-black shadows dancing on the wall. Flames of rainbow-orange licked hungrily at the chimney as they clambered as higher and higher. The fire’s hypnotic jig of joy was as much a celebration as ours. It wanted to be alive on Christmas Day also. A pageant of smells filled the house. Thyme-filled turkeys sizzled on the oven foil. They battled to take over from the lavender-scented candles and the sulfurous smell of crackers. I could hear them snapping and exploding in another room. The scrumptious smell of goose grease wafted into the room, sifting out the other smells. The children had been up early, hoping that the greatest illusionist of them all had visited.
Swag-bellied Santa used sleigh-in-hand rather than sleight-of-hand, but his brand of escapism beat Houdini every time. This jolly, whiskey-nosed character has conjured up more delight from souls than the rest of humanity combined. His marmot-cheeked magic is indeed a joy to the world. I heard the welcome sound of the kettle boiling. It was bubbling and hissing in the background. Warmth flooded the room as the fire came alive. The sound of chuckling and chortling floated to my ears. The Christmas tree flashed and flickered with its dazzling lights. An angel was perched on the top, glittering with its flash-silver lustre. A single candle twinkled merrily in the window. The jingling of the dinner bell rang. It’s the greatest sound that winter could offer. I sighed with happiness and followed the smells and laughter to my chair.
LEVEL 5: COMPLEX WRITING: WINTER WONDERLAND
My boots crunched through the powdered snow. They detonated like Christmas crackers every time my feet hit the ground. The world around me was imprisoned in a glair-white silence. Nothing sounded, nothing stirred, nothing sang. Winters slavering fangs had come and gone. Its lacerating winds had stripped the last leaves from the trees, leaving them naked and brooding in a harsh world. They were wrapped in their surgical coats now, groaning under the weight of the snow. Occasionally, a great limb would creak, crack and collapse. It sounded like an explosion going through the forest. Other than that, an alien serenity garbed the forest. There was no dawn chorus, no symphony of sound, no avian orchestra. The world was entombed in a dome of silence. Winter’s deadly clutch had strangled and stifled all life from the land.
A week ago, a great storm had come screeching through. It had snarled and mewled with its deadly voice, sounding like a wailing spectre. It had ripped slates from roofs and its slavering fangs had sent the last of the squirrels into hibernation. Its scavenging skies had compressed down upon the land, surveying it with a deadly malice. The rain it had brought with it was bitter, like ice-silver bullets of spite. It had gashed and gouged at every living thing, sparing no one. Doom-laden clouds, bloated with hatred, had roiled in the sky before unleashing their vengeful wares. Now the blaring of the wind and blasting of the rain was over. This was the aftershock. The world was becalmed. The furious winter tempests had given too much of themselves. They were spent.
High above me, the last of the morning stars were winking out sadly. They flashed their last, like bling-silver grains of sand in the dawn sky. Their bejewelled brilliance fading into nothingness was a wonder to behold. A ghostly, orb-white, winter moon hung there, imitating a pale strobe light. A corona of shimmering yellow ringed its dying glory. The sky around it was a wide sheet of grate-grey, hemmed in the horizon with a plum-purple tinge. It was a snow sky, Gods perfect gift for Christmas. Fluttery snowflakes puffed down on me, sylph-like in their airy silence. They created a mantle of Lapland-white. When they landed, they glinted like pulverized diamond dust. It was as if I was walking through an outdoor version of the mines of Solomon, a sparkling winterscape of white and silver.
Far below me, coils of smoke drifted up from sleepy hamlets. The cocoon of silence was ruptured by the sound of squealing. Some children were up early, playing on the duck-pond. From my height, it looked like a frozen salver of polished glass. The zero temperatures had encased the water in a prison of silver. In the distance, the peaks of the mountains were wreathed in a necklace of snow. The sun was coming up behind one of them, looking like a glowing torc as its full majesty was blocked by the mountains enormity. It threw down its watery shards of sunlight in vain. Its power was muted by nature’s iron-clad laws. Nothing it could do could banish the wonderland of white beneath it. Its only effect was to smash the flint-grey sky into wonderful striations of yellow, pink and orange. It was enough. The ornamental beauty of the land returned. All around me, the snow flashed and glittered like angel-fire. As my walk ended, I marvelled at the might of nature. Its awe inspiring majesty made my soul rejoice.
For much more of the above in 5 levels of incredible detail, please check out my book Writing with Stardust. Just click on any of the book images below.