 |  |  | | | Poems 2009 | | Poem of the Year: | | | My Nan’s Garden | | | My Nan’s garden was an amazing place,
With grass like a sponge, a comforting embrace.
The wind would rush round like a merry go round,
And empty my head from the worries I’d found.
My Nan’s garden was open to all,
I often had a cup of tea or two.
An abundance of daisy’s that would never go away,
The rain was welcome because there was never a miserable day.
My Nan’s garden was full of colour,
Hibiscus and winter pansy’s added to the glamour.
Little hands helping protect the seeds,
Planning and preparing for next years needs.
My Nan’s garden kept our appetites at bay,
The most delicious vegetables, some people might say.
The plums she grew were as sweet as can be,
If you could taste you’d agree with me.
My Nan’s garden was beautifully designed,
It had a bench for us to snuggle side by side.
The aroma of the plants is one that’s very rare,
It created a perfume that lingered in my hair.
The seeds she sowed stay fresh in my mind
And live in my memory for my children to find.September Louise from Hampton, Great Britain; | | The Lake | | | Blue waters caught the light and diamonds shone,
When rushes grew up and lined shallow banks,
With bare-footed wading and shoes long gone
And fishing jetties made of wooden planks.
Silence lived alone within the birdsong.
The waters slept at peace within the dark.
Laughter in the sunshine moved the day on,
And the crowds would gather back, upon the lark.
Like a child lacking love, we find it now,
With the blues long forgotten in the browns.
A drink's can floats gath'ring scum like a plough,
And the traffic of the city are the sounds.
All beauty lies resting in subtle sleep,
But it fails when banished to memories deep.March Steven from Gravesend, Great Britain; favourite pastime: writing | | Says I | | | Says I (and I am quite astute),
Fear not, if all our kind pollute
this earth, while leaders blind refute
This claim, and opt to find dispute
O'er land, or faith, or oily loot,
And send their slack-jawed forces brute,
On orders "If it moves, you shoot!";
Come taste again forbidden fruit.
For pain and greed and human toil,
And war and creed and lines in soil,
Will be as one as oceans boil,
And time restores the land to oil.
The Earth was ripe for us to spoil,
A cause to which the bulk stayed loyal,
A plan that only God could foil;
Unfurled, at last, this mortal coil.April dodgeramus from London, Great Britain; favourite pastime: travel | | Connect | | | Have you realised that you and me,
Together have a responsibility,
To our earth to keep it clean,
To love and cherish it so it stays green.
You see the world is a wonderful place,
Full of beauty, elegance and grace.
It doesn't matter where you are,
You never have to travel far,
To find a beautiful perfect flower,
Whose simple form has such power.
And when you walk, you'll also hear,
The call of birds who are always near,
As well as bees buzzing by,
Look up, admire the clouds, the sun, the sky.
Get out of your cars and start to walk,
Recconect to people, stop and talk,
Switch off your thoughts and open your eyes,
Be prepared for a big surprise.
Walking can make us feel really grounded,
The seeds of a new life could be founded.
So start thinking today about what you can do,
Live consciously, making all decisions anew,
Challenge the way you've lived in the past,
Do things now so that our planet will last,
Go out and find a brand new way,
Make a difference, start today.May Andrea from Rugby, Great Britain; favourite pastime: Brownie/Senior Section leader; walking; reading; writing poetry | | A History and Future of Beekeeping | | | Bees knew the world was round millions of years before man.
Old beekeepers seldom suffer from bones but the Bombus bee
gets European foul brood & a colony collapse disorder both
at once. Bride has a warm buzza of honey-mead on her wedding
night with high hopes for a boy; these departed bees leave mess
of spit & sugar, before embarking on the Schaftberg experiment
at unknown angles, gathering babies to make beehood. A cinnamon
chested merops sits on King Tut's tomb, dreaming of Asia &
dorsata's dribble. Milk shook to cheese wrapped in beeswax
lubes the bullet & cap; the glazing agent of polish & candle cake.
Pallesthesian pollen pokes planet-ward as my pollex points upward at prospects
of posted muesli, a pabulum for the yellow & black but they are dropping
deadly, beleaguered the bee unmourned, monkeys much cuter. And then?
Hot Arctic comes. Bees and us bedraggled by flood. Seeds tremble
under the torrent & thrust thought it, shooting double-fast, sharp
stems scream skyward a gazillion gardyloos, peels off its petals
& throws shaped dances at the sun. A low buzz then picks up. It rises
to deafen and swarming, a dotted throbbing cloud shakes the flood
from off its million juddering backs. Addicted to dolphins, we swivel
round to birth the bride's child growing to a dopey future synthesising
honey. & whilst our backs are turned, the bees relearn the curvature
of the earth, the roses drink two inches.June Daniel Payne from Essex, Great Britain; favourite pastime: Getting down and funky on the tin whistle. | | The beauty of my garden | | | The beauty of my garden
makes me daydream,
bright colours before my eyes
give me pieces of magic.
The perfume of flowers
comes with the breeze,
sweetness is spread
in the luminous scenery.
My soul takes delight
in this enchanted paradise,
I feel enraptured
by caresses of nature.
The singing of birds
brings calm to my mind,
there's an air of peace,
a smile paints my mouth.
A hummingbird plays
with velvety red roses,
butterflies fall in love
with sweet-smelling jasmines.
Great mountains of love
shine on the horizon,
the charm of the place
brightens up my heart.July María Griselda from Dolores. Buenos Aires. Argentina, Argentina; favourite pastime: poetry and photography | | Love Birds | | | AH... You have love birds on your window seal
They chose your office 'cause it's high and clean
AH... You have love birds on your window seal
THEY CHOSE YOU! 'Cause you are all THEY SEE.
It is daylight on the city
And here we stand to shine
Ah… we are love birds on your window seal
We chose you as clear as the blue-long-sky
You type and type and we look so surprised
'cause we rarely visit your window seal.
Stand closer and observe;
Just how impressive the whole city forgetsAugust Elizabeth Faitarone x Ford from Crawley, Great Britain; favourite pastime: Songwriting and nature contemplation | | My Nan’s Garden | | | My Nan’s garden was an amazing place,
With grass like a sponge, a comforting embrace.
The wind would rush round like a merry go round,
And empty my head from the worries I’d found.
My Nan’s garden was open to all,
I often had a cup of tea or two.
An abundance of daisy’s that would never go away,
The rain was welcome because there was never a miserable day.
My Nan’s garden was full of colour,
Hibiscus and winter pansy’s added to the glamour.
Little hands helping protect the seeds,
Planning and preparing for next years needs.
My Nan’s garden kept our appetites at bay,
The most delicious vegetables, some people might say.
The plums she grew were as sweet as can be,
If you could taste you’d agree with me.
My Nan’s garden was beautifully designed,
It had a bench for us to snuggle side by side.
The aroma of the plants is one that’s very rare,
It created a perfume that lingered in my hair.
The seeds she sowed stay fresh in my mind
And live in my memory for my children to find.September Louise from Hampton, Great Britain; favourite pastime: poetry | | Glass moons | | | Sleeping rough on Whitby beach,
I woke after my sanity expired.
Three ghosts started a fire
and taught me how to make glass
from sand and flames. I had to
juggle glass moons as an audition
for the afterlife, I managed to dodge
knives of fire hurled by the three spirits.
We made a crystal ball to watch the people
of Whitby's nightmares come to fruition.
From haunted exhalations on the flames
a glass ocean was made for our journey
to the next life, I kept a moon to
light our way.October barry carter from Hull, Great Britain; favourite pastime: reading | | Message to All Tennant's | | | Put your guns next to your spears,
Save the people from all the tears,
It could take years it could take time,
All they know is petty crime! steal to heal?
Cheat to complete?
Take a look down at your feet,
The thing your on is made for life,
Feel the the reason Your still alive!
To Heal might take a while,
The key is hidden in a smile,
The way we live has to be...a love embrace of eternity,
Together we gather as one,To watch the the rising of a distant sun,
To heal the soul's of everyone!
Believe and Relieve the good and bad in you and me
WE are here for a reason
To live our lives no matter what the season
It doesn't hurt to take the time
To admire the stars, to see them shine
The Day must end you know its soon,
To hear a wolf Howl at the moon
To see the world in another view
would change your mind and realise soon
The Earth is ours for us to share
Do Not hurt it, you have to care
WE love to live but we must admit
The breeding grounds to all of it
Without our Globe there is no home
The message here is clear and free
It costs nothing to start a change
To heal the world from it's Pain
Earth Loves you....So love it too!November Elliot from Hillingdon, Great Britain; favourite pastime: Discovering Freedom |
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