Poetry competition CLOSED 25th March 2012 2:44pm
WINNER
Lee
Lee
Seasons change
Poetry Contest Description
Read the passage below, create a story around it and tell it in a poem..
Sitting on the park bench, she pondered on what might have happened if everything had gone according to plans all those years ago. This was the same old bench she sat on then; watching the autumn leaves fall to the ground; in cascades at times and sometimes singly. She sighed and looked at the single stem of red rose she held on her hands. Why do people change, she thought.
Rules:
1. Write a poem no more than 200 words about the above.
2. Weave in one of the seasons in your poem
3. Apply your creativity and gift of story telling in your poem.
Rules:
1. Write a poem no more than 200 words about the above.
2. Weave in one of the seasons in your poem
3. Apply your creativity and gift of story telling in your poem.
Anonymous
SPICY AUTUMN
My friend sits on her favorite bench in the park
She breathes in the autumn air, spicy and earthy
Looks at the leaves, falling to the ground
Feels like the leaf, she has been used up
The spring of her life was over long ago
The summer of her life bloomed - a husband and two boys
She, like the season, is in the autumn of her life
The autumn of losses like the leaves piling up
The regrets, the remorse, the ifs, the should haves
Stand accusing her – like a judge and jury
She has been typecast – by herself
As life’s biggest loser
Now a hermit, she cringes at being laughed at
For she knows what I know, people think she is crazy
The stigma for that is a penalty of shunning
So she stays away from those who can hurt her
Constantly re-examines what she could have done different
When suddenly this morning, a red rose was in front of her door
“I am in love with you”, the words said
She knows the man, she did not think she had a second chance
Suddenly he is there beside her, holding her hand…..
My friend sits on her favorite bench in the park
She breathes in the autumn air, spicy and earthy
Looks at the leaves, falling to the ground
Feels like the leaf, she has been used up
The spring of her life was over long ago
The summer of her life bloomed - a husband and two boys
She, like the season, is in the autumn of her life
The autumn of losses like the leaves piling up
The regrets, the remorse, the ifs, the should haves
Stand accusing her – like a judge and jury
She has been typecast – by herself
As life’s biggest loser
Now a hermit, she cringes at being laughed at
For she knows what I know, people think she is crazy
The stigma for that is a penalty of shunning
So she stays away from those who can hurt her
Constantly re-examines what she could have done different
When suddenly this morning, a red rose was in front of her door
“I am in love with you”, the words said
She knows the man, she did not think she had a second chance
Suddenly he is there beside her, holding her hand…..
It was Autumn when she was last here,
we're stared down upon her,
my family and I.
We even sang her melody
as she seemed sad but she stared peculiarly at the roses.
While the wild leaves blew around her, constant petals were
in her sights. It seemed strange to us, my Wife and I
that she would come such a long way from home
to stare at a bunch of roses.
When she returned in the Winter
my wife suggested it might be lost love,
I wasn't entirely sure,
you know how terribly emotional women are.
Each time with these roses,
the same colour as my breast.
She was thinner.
It was Easter next we saw her,
my Son called out at the edges of our weaving,
he liked looking out, never dared freedom though.
She was there again, the same twelve roses in her hand,
they seemed to never die.
Such defensive, resilient flowers to be attached to such sorrow.
I began to agree with my Wife,
as time went on.
She was a wise female,
though I never liked to tell her so.
When my wife died two years later,
something with her ticker,
I was comforted by the lady
and her roses,
at least one day
every season,
any weather.
we're stared down upon her,
my family and I.
We even sang her melody
as she seemed sad but she stared peculiarly at the roses.
While the wild leaves blew around her, constant petals were
in her sights. It seemed strange to us, my Wife and I
that she would come such a long way from home
to stare at a bunch of roses.
When she returned in the Winter
my wife suggested it might be lost love,
I wasn't entirely sure,
you know how terribly emotional women are.
Each time with these roses,
the same colour as my breast.
She was thinner.
It was Easter next we saw her,
my Son called out at the edges of our weaving,
he liked looking out, never dared freedom though.
She was there again, the same twelve roses in her hand,
they seemed to never die.
Such defensive, resilient flowers to be attached to such sorrow.
I began to agree with my Wife,
as time went on.
She was a wise female,
though I never liked to tell her so.
When my wife died two years later,
something with her ticker,
I was comforted by the lady
and her roses,
at least one day
every season,
any weather.
Thank you so much Literary Antiquity for participating.
Inviting all DUP members to join in the competition. Just a gentle reminder of the participating poem's requirement here.
"Read the passage below, create a story around it and tell it in a poem..
Sitting on the park bench, she pondered on what might have happened if everything had gone according to plans all those years ago. This was the same old bench she sat on then; watching the autumn leaves fall to the ground; in cascades at times and sometimes singly. She sighed and looked at the single stem of red rose she held on her hands. Why do people change, she thought.
Rules:
1. Write a poem no more than 200 words about the above.
2. Weave in one of the seasons in your poem
3. Apply your creativity and gift of story telling in your poem."
Thank You!!
Inviting all DUP members to join in the competition. Just a gentle reminder of the participating poem's requirement here.
"Read the passage below, create a story around it and tell it in a poem..
Sitting on the park bench, she pondered on what might have happened if everything had gone according to plans all those years ago. This was the same old bench she sat on then; watching the autumn leaves fall to the ground; in cascades at times and sometimes singly. She sighed and looked at the single stem of red rose she held on her hands. Why do people change, she thought.
Rules:
1. Write a poem no more than 200 words about the above.
2. Weave in one of the seasons in your poem
3. Apply your creativity and gift of story telling in your poem."
Thank You!!
Changed Disguise
This was a bench for weeping,
A bench that held sorrow and pain;
Past memories were with her,
A shadow to bind and contain.
Oft she came in the mornings,
Hoping to find some kind of joy,
But the slow passing of seasons
Reminded her what change can destroy.
The shower of bright yellows and oranges,
Only furthered her gloom,
As she remembered a time past,
When only love was consumed.
How many years had passed by,
Since he had changed his mind,
Since autumn had been uplifting,
Since fate had set a new design?
She looked down at the rose within her hand
And once again began to weep,
For she knew that this small symbol of love,
Would only briefly keep.
But then she stopped and truly looked
At the rose within her grasp,
And knew a thought never had before,
Of the pain within her past.
Could there be any life without change?
Or joys without experiencing pains?
Would spring burst into bloom,
Without winters frigid rains?
Maybe within her shadowed valley,
The dark had hidden a surprise,
And dwelling on her sorrow and losses,
Had thrown the gift in to disguise.
This was a bench for weeping,
A bench that held sorrow and pain;
Past memories were with her,
A shadow to bind and contain.
Oft she came in the mornings,
Hoping to find some kind of joy,
But the slow passing of seasons
Reminded her what change can destroy.
The shower of bright yellows and oranges,
Only furthered her gloom,
As she remembered a time past,
When only love was consumed.
How many years had passed by,
Since he had changed his mind,
Since autumn had been uplifting,
Since fate had set a new design?
She looked down at the rose within her hand
And once again began to weep,
For she knew that this small symbol of love,
Would only briefly keep.
But then she stopped and truly looked
At the rose within her grasp,
And knew a thought never had before,
Of the pain within her past.
Could there be any life without change?
Or joys without experiencing pains?
Would spring burst into bloom,
Without winters frigid rains?
Maybe within her shadowed valley,
The dark had hidden a surprise,
And dwelling on her sorrow and losses,
Had thrown the gift in to disguise.
ANOTHER LIFE
A tree may fall in the winter, summer spring and fall
but inbetween those seasons a tree begins to crawl
For far beyond one mans own dream can something so rare and bold
share its warmth and magic with mother nature to unfold
So inbetween time when every thing is so still, quiet and untouched
another chance, another go, another life unseen
so maybe this time we'll get it right even in a dream.....
A tree may fall in the winter, summer spring and fall
but inbetween those seasons a tree begins to crawl
For far beyond one mans own dream can something so rare and bold
share its warmth and magic with mother nature to unfold
So inbetween time when every thing is so still, quiet and untouched
another chance, another go, another life unseen
so maybe this time we'll get it right even in a dream.....
Anonymous
Another cycle over-
Spring has come and gone-
leaves blow past me softly
I play your favorite song.
If only we had known-
the way age would jade us.
Maybe we could have found
something to save us.
Had we only known
all the hell we
were in for-
but;,
Perhaps-
we would have had
a lot less to sing for.
I think of you now-
and am just so perplexed
Of all who came and went-
it's you who won't rest.
I remember the seasons
like stains upon my heart-
Where some days are ending-
new ones just start.
but Summer, Winter, Spring-
or days like today-
If I could just see you-
It would all be okay.
The Flavour Yellow
I will always remember
the July skies of crimson
shaded by a yellow flavour
that burst from a descending sun .
I will always remember
the summer haze
our sunny yesterdays
of echoing laughter
the flowers and rainbow rays
throughout sunshine days
that followed after .
I will never forget
the hillcrest nights
the bat flights
that twisted and circled
the far flung street lamps
and car head lights
that flickered as they twinkled .
I will always recall the nights
that would slowly fall .
The orange tinted
lunar disc
the fresh leaf air all minted
and brisk
these times pictured forever
in a photographic mind
unsevered
I will always remember
the July skies of crimson
shaded by a yellow flavour
that burst from a descending sun .
I will always remember
the summer haze
our sunny yesterdays
of echoing laughter
the flowers and rainbow rays
throughout sunshine days
that followed after .
I will never forget
the hillcrest nights
the bat flights
that twisted and circled
the far flung street lamps
and car head lights
that flickered as they twinkled .
I will always recall the nights
that would slowly fall .
The orange tinted
lunar disc
the fresh leaf air all minted
and brisk
these times pictured forever
in a photographic mind
unsevered
It no longer brought her sadness
Somehow she'd gotten used to the loneliness
But he came around
Out of the blues
Looking charming and true
And brought a new sense of happiness
Became her warmer in the winter
Everywhere she was he was with her
But on that fateful day
She came home and found the note
Lying on the bed wherein lastnight they had it hot
The message's clear,straight to the point and short
She couldn't believe she's back to this very spot
Lonely as ever before
And what was so strange to her
Was how people could suddenly change
Somehow she'd gotten used to the loneliness
But he came around
Out of the blues
Looking charming and true
And brought a new sense of happiness
Became her warmer in the winter
Everywhere she was he was with her
But on that fateful day
She came home and found the note
Lying on the bed wherein lastnight they had it hot
The message's clear,straight to the point and short
She couldn't believe she's back to this very spot
Lonely as ever before
And what was so strange to her
Was how people could suddenly change
