SILVERPOETS    -    WINNERS  CIRCLE                Page 13 MAY 2008: Our May 2008 competition was extremely well supported, and we are sad to say that only the two best entries could be awarded a small prize. We do wish to thank all poets who did submit their entries and hope that you a little more lucky with our next competition. The following two entries were judged by Dreamweaver, our resident poetry expert, as the most successful for the month of May 2008:                                                             THE SUMMER THE DANDELIONS DIED The clock on the wall crept on slowly past the midnight magic hour - and paused, while you were born. Perfect little face, golden skin I'd never heard of jaundice then. Lightening jagged the midsummer sky all night as I lay love drugged and awed watching God's fireworks bless your birthday, And I was proud of you. Each week that summer I walked with you into the future past dandelions and garbage bins. To the judges of my mothering- The Baby Health Centre. Pentavite, stewed apples, nappies all knowing small blue book proscribed. Those master of our fate filled the holes of my ignorance. And then- you doubled your birth weight And I was proud of you. The Januaries galloped across the skies Filled with tadpoles, rocks, swimming lessons, Lost socks, new sisters, dandelions and summer things: And I watched you grow strong and tall while nightmares dreaded the dreams of my soul's violent nights. You began to feel the storm's terror day. Tears and pain and loneliness. I wonder did I forget to say That I was proud of you. Thirty Januaries had summered quickly by When suddenly, without warning- With an SMS you cruelly cut the thread. The dandelions dripped bitter juice My heart curled at the edges Now you write to me, things that cannot be true- I'm cruel and never loved you. Did the night shadow - mute obscure That I am (and always was) so proud of you?           by..............Diana Thurbon Prize: Books - "How To Write In Style" by Bobby Christmas and "The 35 Most Common Fiction                               Writing  Mistakes" by Jack Bickham. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NIGHT SOUNDS Train noises jolt through my sleepy head There's a husky hiss in the microphone When they make announcements. A low clunk vibrates up from some carriage nether region Hollow, tired, but always there. The join between two carriages Mine and the next Has some wonderfull shrill squeakings They sound like old women speed speaking Too fast to be understood, But one knows the mood of the conversation, Or is the mood mine alone? There is also the bird chorus from the vestibule. When the track is straight and smooth they go quiet, Going round curves and corners, they shriek! Somewhere, up the front of the train Is a rare old rooster having an old man's rant, And behind me a battery of hens is giving him what for! Every now and then all goes quiet. Then the conversations start again. The hens cluck, The chunk clunks The birds shriek shrilly And the microphone hisses again. I have to smile. Did I really think I would sleep With all this going on?                by...........  Dawn McDonald Prize: DVD - " Are You Being Served " (Series 7 and Christmas '79) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Judge's comments: Congratulations to the winners of this month's special awards. These are two fine poems. The Summer the Dandelions Died is so poignant.  The poem tells the story of a mother's love, care, worry for and pride in her child.  Then after thirty years the now adult child decides the mother is cruel and never was loving. This is sadly a frequent happening, but fortunately is often reversed with the coming of more mature wisdom. There are very effective echoes here, such as clock/crept, dandelions/dripped  and midnight/magic, and of course the thread running right through, I was proud of you. And still she is. There are phrases redolent with feeling - love drugged and awed; You began to feel the storm's terror day; My heart curled at the edges. A lovely poem. Night Sounds is aptly titled, as it's full of the actual sounds of night train travel. The sounds of the words are the sounds we really hear, like  'husky hiss', 'clunk', and 'shrill squeaking'.  Then imagination likens them to similar sounds; old women speed speaking, we can hear them but not recognise the words; a twittering of birds from the wheels, rising to a shriek; a ranting rooster and a battery of clucking hens.  Apart from the train sounds, there are other echoes of sound that add to the poetic effect, like straight/smooth and curves/corners.  The poem is like the train: all goes quiet, then it starts to repeat the earlier sounds. Well done. ....................... Dreamweaver --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- June 2008: Millennium The year two thousand's been and gone, our world is confident, The dreaded menace, Y2K has been a non-event! We blunder on, as man has always blundered in the past, Treating our heritage with scorn while others watch, aghast! The Ozone layer has all but gone, much to no one's surprise, And deadly radiation streams down on us from the skies! The frozen ice at both the poles is all melting away, And people of the south sea isles are just the first to pay! Our fellow creatures on this Earth, we've driven to the brink, A quarter of the animals that were, are now extinct! We've stripped the planet without thought of far more than we need! And placed ourselves in jeopardy through thoughtlessness and greed! We never owned the planet, but were merely the trustee And rampages of storm and flood were plain for all to see All mankind knew the reason that our world had gone awry, But it was not our fault of course, it was the other guy! And so, one day it came to pass, one early Sunday morn... The time for sunrise came and went, no new day had been born! Somewhere an audit had been done, and man had come up short! Our stewardship called to account in one final report. We huddled in the missing dawn, and gazed up at the sky, A grim sense of finality, but no one wondered why! For man had earned his destiny, of this there was no doubt, And high above us, one by one, the stars were blinking out.                                    by............... Frank Halliwell o0o ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Judge's Comments: This is so topical now, though written I think at the millenium! Something of an oracle, this poet, seeing there are reports that the North Pole icecap could be gone by the end of the year!  Although written in cheerful rhythm and rhyme, the message is sobering - in fact grim. But in true 'Rhymer' style, Frank asks "Wanna adopt a homeless polar bear?" ................Dreamweaver -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back to: HOME    Back to: Hobbies & Games    Back to: Silverpoets (12)   Forward to: Silverpoets (14)