Poetry competition CLOSED 10th January 2021 9:37pm
WINNER
Strangeways_Rob
Strangeways_Rob
RUNNERS-UP:
crimsin
and Stoney223
Landscaped Engines
BODY OF MARIN
Good morning
Body of Marin
You're glistening with dew
I slide between
Your laden hills
Admiring the view
Fresh rivulets
Of sustenance
Satisfied and full
You are
A gracious lover
Driving my electric soul
Body of Marin
You're glistening with dew
I slide between
Your laden hills
Admiring the view
Fresh rivulets
Of sustenance
Satisfied and full
You are
A gracious lover
Driving my electric soul
Written by SatInUGal
(Kumar)
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Heritage outlook
The piles of ore the tunnels bore
Smoking chimneys now devoid
That golden age, now exhausted resource
Time and tide has weathered one
Features blends with craggy lines
Soon to be reclaimed
That blot, that abandoned mine
Slowly collapsed on life's skyline
Resting, morphing in settled respect
Towards mother earth
The sliding shale of that neglect
Was painted on my landscapes canvas
Where work, not beauty claimed advantage
No shame, a contentment in the spoils dark face
Smoking chimneys now devoid
That golden age, now exhausted resource
Time and tide has weathered one
Features blends with craggy lines
Soon to be reclaimed
That blot, that abandoned mine
Slowly collapsed on life's skyline
Resting, morphing in settled respect
Towards mother earth
The sliding shale of that neglect
Was painted on my landscapes canvas
Where work, not beauty claimed advantage
No shame, a contentment in the spoils dark face
Written by slipalong
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Golden Empire
The landscape changes every ten miles in each direction
Ranches and fields to the south and west
A brown panorama due to fracking in the north
And large farms to the east, leading to the mountains
To the southern tip of the Sierras
Although most of the town is flat
On the outskirts
The roads move up and down with the terrain
Where the land is open and wide
On the highways you can drive for miles
And see nothing but fields
You can see the migrant workers
Working under the hot summer sun
Working in the harshest weather conditions
When it snows in the Sierras, here the river flows
But with on and off again droughts
The river and waterways are dry
And so, we pray for rain
Every year, the city is growing, expanding outward
Slowly becoming a bigger metropolis
And little by little the fields slowly disappear
Written by wallyroo92
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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View From Our Window
Five floors up and beside the sea,
The view from our flat is magic to me;
To the right is the Firth of Forth;
Across the water; Fife's to the North.
At low tide we see an expanse of sand
Dogs and their walkers find it grand,
Wild swimming is now much more common;
A plunge in cold water, courage to summon.
Paddle boards, kayaks, and dingies abound
Edinburgh's seaside with its fairground,
The promenade bustles even in winter;
Walkers, bicycles and the odd sprinter.
The view ahead is Arthur's Seat
A mountain in the city; my view is complete.
In winter it can be covered in snow,
In spring the yellow gorse is aglow.
My previous abode was the countryside;
Old age forced us to the city abide;
The view from our window is the saving grace,
Makes us feel there is plenty of space.
Even when we don't venture outside
We can see action and much more beside.
The view from our flat is magic to me;
To the right is the Firth of Forth;
Across the water; Fife's to the North.
At low tide we see an expanse of sand
Dogs and their walkers find it grand,
Wild swimming is now much more common;
A plunge in cold water, courage to summon.
Paddle boards, kayaks, and dingies abound
Edinburgh's seaside with its fairground,
The promenade bustles even in winter;
Walkers, bicycles and the odd sprinter.
The view ahead is Arthur's Seat
A mountain in the city; my view is complete.
In winter it can be covered in snow,
In spring the yellow gorse is aglow.
My previous abode was the countryside;
Old age forced us to the city abide;
The view from our window is the saving grace,
Makes us feel there is plenty of space.
Even when we don't venture outside
We can see action and much more beside.
Written by gardenlover
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G e r r i
The sea is pretty but hell its scary,
to most it was,
not to her,
for it was her haven.
bubbles of joy washed ashore
an extension of her happiness.
tides of radiance gleaming in the sunlight,
current of vibrancy,
that is the expansion of her beauty.
Most are scared of what seems to be perplex
bewildering and complexity frightens them.
For they are incapable of handling such,
so they are frightened by the sea,
by you,
but i am not.
to most it was,
not to her,
for it was her haven.
bubbles of joy washed ashore
an extension of her happiness.
tides of radiance gleaming in the sunlight,
current of vibrancy,
that is the expansion of her beauty.
Most are scared of what seems to be perplex
bewildering and complexity frightens them.
For they are incapable of handling such,
so they are frightened by the sea,
by you,
but i am not.
Written by eljustignoreyou
(John Daliva)
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