Sunday, 24 January 2010

Young(er) Poetic Champions Compose


The Second Season

Daisies, like splashes of white paint on a green canvas.
The daffodil bulb opens slowly, like a timid baby rabbit
venturing out for the first time.
A rose blossoming like a child learning to walk,
A multi-coloured carpet of wild flowers covering the
Fresh blossom, as delicate as gossamer, and tiny
curled up leaves on saplings, start off the year like a new
born lamb finding it's feet.
Trees picking up leaves like they are objects in an end-
of-season sale.
Spring itself is a newborn lamb, frolicking playfully into view,
Inspiring, rolling down grassy banks, ending up in fields of gold.
The comma in a sentence, a pause in the year.

By Alex Quill, Beth Davis, Vicky Lindsay, Ben Custard and Emily Price

Alex then skipped with no probs at all from creative democracy to this expression of singularity:

I am......

I am the stranger standing on the sidewalk,
I am the seat supporting my friends,
I am the smile slowly spreading across your face,
I am the silent ghost gliding through the corridors,
I am the face you always forget,
I am the the rumour on everyone's lips,
I am the secret that shouldn't be told,
I am the person you love to hate,
And hate to love,

I am,
The person some love,
some hate,
some don't know,
some don't want to know,
I am like,
The best friend from long ago,
the daughter you never had,
the long lost sister,
the heart broken girlfriend,

I am me....
by Alex Quill
The Ways of Winter

The light shining, reflecting off the snow,
Snow white blanket,
Falling like salt on chips,
Sky like a whitewashed wall,
The snowflakes, falling down like little stars.
Conor Sandells

1 comment:

  1. Come on old-timers, what do you make of these future stars of Writer's Group? 'Falling like salt on chips?' Awlright!!