Poetry competition CLOSED 10th March 2022 9:25am
WINNER
fallntarot
fallntarot
RUNNER-UP:
javalini
Untranslatable Words
The Fields
Through hiraeth's lens, age's
wisdom - the grindstone of
responsibility - those late 90s
summers and spring's dew on the
schoolyard grass, was it all so
strenuous?
I have tattooed over the scraped
elbows, the tree sap, the cuts and
bruises. I wonder if I'm remembered.
I wonder if my ghost will sail
back to those fields after all is said and
done.
Back then, the winter meant snow, and
July's sun was just enough. Sticks were
whittled to swords. Trees were castles.
Hours were minutes, and the moon was an
uninvited guest. Strange how sometimes we
couldn't wait for it to end, and now we'd
pay anything to take it back.
wisdom - the grindstone of
responsibility - those late 90s
summers and spring's dew on the
schoolyard grass, was it all so
strenuous?
I have tattooed over the scraped
elbows, the tree sap, the cuts and
bruises. I wonder if I'm remembered.
I wonder if my ghost will sail
back to those fields after all is said and
done.
Back then, the winter meant snow, and
July's sun was just enough. Sticks were
whittled to swords. Trees were castles.
Hours were minutes, and the moon was an
uninvited guest. Strange how sometimes we
couldn't wait for it to end, and now we'd
pay anything to take it back.
Written by fallntarot
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River of My Soul
splash goes the dew into the pool
stirring crystal clear water
to a ripple round to it's edge
smooth as a dance
the lotus flower
pink above green leaves
sway a little
like a lover's gentle smile
leaves shadow on pool
breeze caresses folded arms
blow hair unto wet face
dewed by tears
cheeks under moonlight shadow
the coins are paid
boat has sailed
across the dark river
stand I here watching
feet on hyacinth pond
watching the ripples
reflecting days
water flowing
on the river of my Soul.
Mångata*
stirring crystal clear water
to a ripple round to it's edge
smooth as a dance
the lotus flower
pink above green leaves
sway a little
like a lover's gentle smile
leaves shadow on pool
breeze caresses folded arms
blow hair unto wet face
dewed by tears
cheeks under moonlight shadow
the coins are paid
boat has sailed
across the dark river
stand I here watching
feet on hyacinth pond
watching the ripples
reflecting days
water flowing
on the river of my Soul.
Mångata*
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
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