Chiswick Book Festival results.
Congratulations to our winning poets who yet again have had success in the Chiswick Book Festival Young People’s Poetry Competition. For some years St Augustine’s Priory has done well in this competition and Mr Elder was delighted that four of his Form III (now Lower IV) class continued the tradition.
The award ceremony took place last Friday and the presentations were made by Clare Balding, fresh from her coverage of the Paralympics.
Our winners were Kate, Amba, Homare and Rayan. Homare was awarded Year 7 First Prize for her poem entitled, ‘Tomorrow’, Kate wrote a poem called, ‘Emotion’ which achieved Year 7 Joint Second Prize with Amba’s poem ‘Your Trust’, and Rayan achieved Year 7 Joint Third Prize with her poem, ‘Empty Room’. A wonderful achievement by all concerned!
Here we produce our prize-winners’ poems. Firstly, Kate’s poem, ‘Emotion’.
Anger – a talking virus
Like a reflecting presence
Like a flowing disaster
A rocky river amidst a cool flow
costing difference, a boiling thrill
Jealousy – a staring comparison
A posing appearance
Love – a witnessing growth
Sensing resolution
Multiplying communication
Risking significance.
Here is Amba’s poem, ‘Your Trust’.
Your eyes, as blue as the June skies,
They stare at me in solitude,
Your hair are golden threads,
As they pirouette in the wind.
I felt something when we were together,
The outside world would disappear.
While listening to your mellow voice,
Memories stumbled across me,
The time we chuckled ‘till I cried,
The time I put all my trust in you,
The time you said you trusted me,
Was it all just a manipulative dream?
Trust is a flickering light,
Mimicking your emotions, snatching your soul,
One moment, the bar is high, the next,
Teardrops fall from your eyes.
Here is Homare’s prize-winning poem, ‘Tomorrow’:
As I close my eyes the flashback comes over me,
Taking me to the memories of a whole one year,
Every moments captured burnt in my memory,
Like a tattoo that is never going to come off.
Lockdown manipulating us as if we were puppets,
Controlled for the ever-lasting despairing show.
No hope left for us,
But still we wait.
The new but somber-looking suitcase standing next to my desk,
Waiting for it to be used
A suitcase filled with drab misery and loss.
When the second hand and the minute overlap,
the world hold its breath for a brief moment
As I open my eyes,
The new beginning holds.
As the clock ticks in every second,
The sun rises up as if it is giving me wisdom.
Sunshine reflecting through the city,
As if it is colouring the monochrome world,
with the paint of flamboyance.
Leaving no trace of footprint,
Of the world which was pitch black just a moment ago.
Yesterday in a long tunnel is over,
It is time for the birth of a new normal.
Finally, here is Rayan’s poem, ‘Empty Room’.
A room empty and quiet,
Only the sun has entered,
The room corners hide in shadows,
It was silent,
It was bright.
The birds chirping and the sky blue,
The wall and the floor a dusty yellow,
Winter has ended and spring has started.
Categories: Senior
