Here’s Year 6, enjoying a very nostalgic carpet time reading session, which led to writing such as the Rudyard-Kipling-style example below: 

Many moons ago, before the world was ignited in flames the colour of ignorance and greed, the great North Pole was cold. And it was a wondrous cold indeed, best beloved. Numbingly, chillingly cold. But not for long. The quiet, undisturbed North Pole was now invaded. Invaded with strange creatures blinded by capitalism and paper banknotes, extracting profitable minerals from the sheets of ice that were the polar bears’ home. And then came the sound. One of great misery and misfortune. One of misfortune and misery. And dear reader, it sounded like this: CRACK. The thin ice sheets grew thinner, breaking apart. 

A polar bear sat atop an ice sheet and an ice sheet was sat upon by a polar bear. This polar bear was sleeping and sleeping he was. It was such a glorious sleep, dear reader!  A sleep filled with pleasant salmon (oh how the polar bear loved salmon!)  and his warm, restful ice bed. But it wasn’t long until a cacophonous sound pierced his ear drums, forcing him awake and away from his pleasant dream.  The ice sheet! It was 

b r e a k i n g  a w a y. The polar bear could do nothing but be swept away by the wicked waves, away from his family and his home. For many nights, days, months and many months, days and nights the polar bear grew closer to sinking into the rough waters that threatened to engulf him.