Poetry Winners 2017

       

 Winner of Sefton Shield for best in poetry section

What is Love?
 

        The slight turn of the head,
        and my heart skips a beat.
        Air is still around me,
        as I shudder to my feet.

        Eyes look in my direction.
        Blood rushes to my head.
        My body gives a quiver;
        Oh! such delicious dread.

        Will he walk towards me?
        I tingle with desire.
        I watch him moving forward,
        as my body burns with fire.

        Both knees are shaking.
        Is this what love's about?
        I only know I've fallen,
        and I want to jump and shout.

 A love poem
 by

Anita Pruden

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                  AMBITION OVERLEAPS ITSELF

              I've joined a local writing group
              My thoughts will now be born
              Long at the gateway of my mind
              They've jostled, all forlorn

              Now they'll flow, in single file
              From head, through arm, to pen
              To bless the crisp white paper
              On desk of writing den

               I'll polish them, I'll shape them
               I'll toss them all about
               I'll read them, I'll revise them
               I'll check their grammar out

               Perhaps I'll put some commas in
               To help the meter flow
               A full stop here, a colon there
               Just to show I know

               From dawn to dusk I'll slave away
               I'll sit alone and think
               My deepest, darkest secrets
               Will soon be etched in ink

               My books will sell a million
               My family will be proud
               I'll be on TV chat shows
               And read my work aloud

               But hang on, just a moment
               Hang on a little bit
               I can't show them the real me
              They'll see I'm just a twit

              They'll judge me, they'll condemn me,
              They'll say I'm just a fool
              A fanciful old codger
              Who doesn't know the rule

              That writers are a special breed
              Born, but never made
              With intellect above the stars
              And mind like sharpest blade

              I must admit, my lofty thoughts
              Have turned my knees to jelly
              I'm so relieved, I saw the light
              Let's see what's on telly.

           Jim McGuirk