Launceston College Winners
Having announced the winners of our Causley Trust Children’s Poetry Competition several weeks ago, we are now thrilled to begin sharing the winning poems with you. Inundated with talent from these young budding poets, the words they have created are inspiring and a tribute to the enduring legacy of Launceston’s beloved Charles Causley. Having already shared the work of St Stephen’s Primary School (Year 4) and South Petherwin Primary School (Year 5) over the last few days, we are now happy to share the winning poems from Launceston College (Year 9).
The moon rose:
Veiled in misty-silver, like a bride.
He would never see her again.
That – he knew.
An icy tear formed on his broken face,
Captivating the moonlight, in the pearly shades.
Marbling into a crimson flower –
With the blood that slept on the broken ground.
He would not be yet another fallen –
His blood seeping into the ground, like the roots of a tree;
But never forgotten.
He imagined one day, a rose growing here.
Growing from the blood mass of forgotten souls.
Where had all the beauty gone?
He would not leave like this –
Ridiculed by selfishness, seething like a dying fish.
War would not drown him,
Like the sea, slowly circulating the sand,
In a torrent of turquoise.
War would not win.
Elegance of spirit flooded from his listless body,
His soul soared,
Flying free, on the azure wings of an angel.
Passing overhead with flying colours…
It was over.
The moon rose.
His eyelids fluttered…Heavy and tired
Darkness fell upon him
He woke. The sun above glared furiously at him…
Death was waiting patiently. Lying in a pool of blood…waves lapping at his feet…a beach of death and torment.
The wire held it’s iron jaws tight…wouldn’t relinquish until it’s master had claimed it’s prey.
He was a helpless creature…condemned to working the land of hell…he was nothing more…
Nothing more than an animal sent to the slaughterhouse.
He would not be mourned.
Forlorn. Forgotten. His only friends were the worms…and they would consume his flesh…
The hope seeped out of his wound.
Along with his blood
It trickled down his leg
And was absorbed by the mud
Once again, darkness covered the land
And heavy boots trudged
Beneath the unhallowed moon
Whispers in the dark… Friend… Foe
It did not matter
He would die soon
A familiar voice echoed in the gloom
He heard his name
He wasn’t forgotten,
He would be rescued
He would go home
In the nightmare lands
The darkness clawed at them
Left them blind…
But they were determined to see their task through
They trudged through hell
For a man at death’s door
3rd Prize Note from Sapphire: This poem was inspired by my grandmother’s African Safari trips. Thanks Cathlene Williams (Nanny).
Awake before the sun,
No light dares come near,
We were willingly trapped in a cave of mystery.
A slow yet steady rhythm,
Shadowing the warden,
We grouped in the open jeep.
Penetrating, intense, sharp,
Blades of cold air
Slicing our skin of all feeling.
A pick and mix of features,
Lay in wait,
We arrive at our destination.
Feminine gazelle, proud lioness, powerful cheetahs,
Enduring the tasks of the day.
All of a sudden
Out of nowhere
A shock, horror,
A scary monster,
A beautiful beast,
Wrinkled skins that bear a thousand stories
Sad, pleading eyes beg for our surrender
In a paralysing state of fear, we both froze.
Causley Commendation Prize
Tears are running down my face as I watch them walk away,
I guess I shouldn’t worry, it’s just another day,
But then I see them laughing, it makes me want to say
“stop hurting me, they’re my friends too, I only want to play!”
But I know I’ll get in trouble,
For mentioning her name,
As soon as she knows I’ve told on her,
She’ll call the fire brigade!
I can feel my heart is pounding,
As I watch them in dismay,
Nobody stops by me,
To see if I’m okay.
She makes it feel like a race,
The kind that never ends,
The finish line is miles away,
But all of us need friends.