SILVERPOETS    -    WINNERS  CIRCLE                Page 19 May 2009: A Flight of Fancy I was sitting in my garden when a bird flew down to me and said 'Dear girl come visit - I live up there in that tree'. I looked and saw where he did point his feathery little wing I said 'I would if I could fly but it's not a human thing'. 'Oh yes it is if you but wish, just try it and you'll see There's no-one to make fun of you there's only you and me'. I closed my eyes and made a wish, crossed fingers and my toes I had visions of me falling and landing on my nose But surprise - my wish was granted and up and up I soared Until the people on the ground I couldn't see no more. The tree so high, I landed on a branch right at the top I'd then I settled but my friend said 'Let's not stop'. We flew to lands across the sea I don't Know how I did it; Little bird stuck right by me and told me just keep at it. The winds they pushed and rain squalls came until we were wet through, it didn't matter for my friend 'cos he was waterproof; but I became bedraggled and my spirit soon did drag I wished I'd brought the brolly which was back home in my bag.  Then through the clouds the sun did shine I soon forgot the rain My dampened spirits soon were dry and eventually we came To an island in the ocean where all seemed calm and mellow The sun's glow bathing me in dazzling, golden yellow Then my friend was gone from sight, my world a sudden dark Buoyancy deserted me, I faltered and then sank.  Down, down, down I drop, then suddenly there's light A ball of feathers by my side and once more I take flight And together we are one as we glide across the ocean, Almost lulled to sleep by the gentle, drifting motion. Downwards I see the tree then my garden way below And I wake up with a start to hear my grandchild say 'Hello. You've been asleep dear grandma; there was a smile upon your face Did my bird take you across the sky to my very favourite place?           ......................by Mary Hart ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Judge's comments: A journey in rhythm and rhyme, quite an adventure. It's not all sweetness and light, what with winds and rain squalls! I like the sound echoes in                                                                "I wish I'd brought the brolly." This reminds me of real life, where we often have nothing to protect us from the rain squalls of life. Getting drenched isn't the only problem, for the thing that can keep us up can suddenly disappear - this could be our faith, a beloved friend, our health, many and various things. Its                                                                               ".............gone from sight, my world a sudden dark                                                            Buoyancy deserted me, I faltered and then sank.                                                            Down, down, down I drop......................." But it returns, and all is well. Congratulations on a poem that is both thoughtful and entertaining!..................................Dreamweaver --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- June 2009: 'Aspiring Author' I sit in my brokendown hovel by candle-light, writing my novel; To Random I'll take it In their faces I'll shake it, then whimper and snivel and grovel.                ..........by singlemalt ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Judge's comments: This is a perfect limerick!  It might seem easy to write a limerick, but often the rhythm isn't quite right.  In this piece it is spot on. First, second and fifth lines have                                                           de DAH de de DAH de de DAH de while lines three and four have the same pattern with only two strong beats each. Rhyming is exceptionally good, achieving not just one but  two rhyming syllables at each line ending.  The traditional picture of a starving author trying to live by writing is amusingly over emphasised, so it becomes unreal and we can happily laugh at it. He lives in a hovel, and worse still it's a broken down one; and the electricity has been cut off, he'll be cold and hungry.  If Random House won't publish his book he'll whimper and snivel and grovel, as though that would make one shred of difference! ..................................................Dreamweaver --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back to: HOME   Back to: Hobbies & Games    Back to: Silverpoets (18)  Forward to: Silverpoets (20)