More poems by young Canty award-winners

Press, 5 July 1983, Page 18

More poems by young Canty award-winners

Here are some more of the poems by readers in our area which won prizes in "Fact” magazine’s recent “P’en-a-poem” contest.

FLAMES OF WARMTH Fire flickering, Golden hot shafts caressing the grainy wood Embracing it, consumed it to give out warmth. Ebony coal lies dying in slow heat. Blackened grate holding up the red glow. Sparks with brief life, quick death, drop, to lie on white used ashes. The flames dance and flicker, blue then red, and gold making pictures Etched against the blackened, soot laden, dull red, stained bricks— To throw out scorching burning heat, to disappear up the chimney, lost for ever. The poker, brush, and pan stand resolutely, saying farewell. —By Jenny Wilson, aged 10.

FOR BEN Stepping with youthful seriousness Slowly, deliberately, over cracks in the floorboards Making footprints in the dust. Fingers linked, wandering oblivious through our childhood paradise Cobwebby windows barred only by sunbeams, Slanting, slatting through the shutters across shrouded rooms Gold-bright slots battening out the adult world. Creaking hinges, then a garden overgrown Our secret wilderness, forever unexplored Fresh discoveries among the shooting sunflowers — Long-forgotten tears for broken dolls. You played Red Indians between the lemon trees Saw crocodiles fin-flickjng in the goldfish pond And stalked Tabby’s kittens, sprawling drowsy in the green-striped shade. Swinging high beneath the oak tree Through the wilting, heavy air Netted in leaves, trapped below the surface Bee-shimmering, steeped blue with pollen scents and silence. Swimming home through the fragrant dusk in time for tea. Drugged by summer, while insects danced in dizzy circles about our heads, we spun giddily on the gate, whispered goodbyes, dreams and promises in the humming twilight Blissfully ignorant of Tomorrow Promises never to grow up. —By Katherine Quigley, aged 17.