SILVERPOETS    -    WINNERS  CIRCLE                Page 17 January 2009: The Soft Lilac Rain Oh how lovely the soft lilac rain that gently falls, anointing the paths and earth with lilac velvet. She stands so proud surveying her paradise; my paradise. I watch her swaying in the breeze, her blooms welcoming the hungry birds and bees. My Queen of paradise, my Jacaranda, will shed her lilac robe and dress herself in soft green summer garb to protect her subjects from the harsh ball of fire. How lovely my Jacaranda resplendent in the lilac of Spring                         ---------- by Glamma                                                             ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Judge's Comments: Soft lilac rain is a great metaphor for the gentle dropping of jacaranda blossoms, and the soft sounds of S, L, F and P throughout the poem enhance this aspect. The personification of one tree works well, a gracious and graceful queen protecting her subjects. There is a natural rhythm perceived in this poem when it is read aloud, and the last line particularly contains lovely cadences. This is indeed a beautiful poem - congratulations to the winner...........................Dreamweaver --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- February 2009:     Dancing in Front of the Guns   (Solomon Islands, 2003) The thrust and stamp of feet and wailing chant make defiant the Dance of Peace in the face of danger, where once this dance and song would augur well. In silver serenity upon the sea, the sailing moon reflects its image in a thousand quivering shards, so like the harmony of island life that shattered before the onslaught of guns and violence. The palm tree fronds sway and swing in time to match the skirts and minds of those who would be true to Christian causes. Dancing in front of the guns, peacemakers defy insurgents, who rant and cant, not knowing for what it is they pray. Red eyes of bloodlust gaze from jungle lairs upon the play, sinews wrapped in fondling guns, the armoury of war gods, bespoken for upon the manic words of one lost and empty soul, whose rhetoric inflamed the malcontents of this island nation. Ringed by coral reefs, each atoll a jewel in the blue oceans crown, these happy isles, where, to wave a carved and ceremonial stick had been enough to sanctify the peace. War is never new rusting legions of once deified ships of war and so-called resurrection, lie fathoms deep in Ironbottom Sound, beside green-clad Guadalcanal, where bomb craters have turned to limpid jungle pools, reflecting gems of fragrant orchid life. Mangled feet of sedition, bearing means of death and destruction in dark and greedy paws weave heedless paths where tranquillity should lie, tearing the Happy Isles out of their drift in time, shredding the fabric of gentle village life. Angels, clothed in blue and jungle green, from that fat, complacent land, Australia, made strong imprints in the sand and on the minds. Guns retired by stern authority, smashed into submissive pieces, shouting fanatics led away. The Dance of Peace has spread its wings once more across the hills, so that the palms may shed their dappled shade on peaceful Happy Isles again.        ----------- by  Judy James ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Judge's Comments: The opening line takes the reader immediately to the scene. The thrust and stamp of feet and wailing chant,   and the thud of the feet is heard in the D sounds in "make defiant the Dance of Peace in the face of danger" How different the soft S sounds of peaceful times "in silver serenity upon the sea, the sailing moon" The imagery here is matched to people's minds. "The palm tree fronds sway and swing in time to match the skirts and minds of those who would be true to Christian causes." Peacemakers dance as "Red eyes of bloodlust gaze from jungle lairs upon the play, sinews wrapped in fondling guns," The peace and tranquillity of these 'Happy Isles' has been destroyed by "one lost and empty soul, whose rhetoric inflamed the malcontents of this island nation." How paradoxical that "that fat, complacent land, Australia" is the bringer of "Angels, clothed in blue and jungle green" who make "strong imprints in the sand and on the minds" allowing the Dances of Peace to restore tranquility. A thoughtful and effective poem.  Well done...................................Dreamweaver --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back to: HOME   Back to: Hobbies & Games    Back to: Silverpoets (16)    Forward to: Silverpoets (18)