This week six excellent poems were submitted in response to the photograph above.
All poems were voted for anonymously however today (Saturday 25th January) I can reveal all the authors and the results of the voting.
Copyright of all poems remain with their authors.
The Winning poem was Lady Lantern by Shay Crinkle with Upstream (Eileen Carney Hulme) and Said the Cygnet to the Swan (Chaucer Cameron) coming in equal second.
I would like to congratulate everyone who entered for coming up with such beautiful poems in a very short space of time.
Thanks too to Mac Mcree for the stunning photograph.
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Poem 1
Your White Feathers Captivate Me
Imagine, an urgency of running to you, to go over,
Whilst I close my eyes and put my hands through
The puffed up chest, to feel those feathers, to stroke each quill
And know, when I gently rub your long curved neck
The softness I will feel, like petals from newly spring flowers.
Fancy, my fingertips touching a tough but good-looking surface
My close-up eyes inspecting the black and orange beak.
Picture this, all the time you were in the water
Floating to and from the banks, it was your reflection
That mesmerised me to do the things I wanted to do.
Johanna Boal
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Poem 2
Upstream
When my father died
I was six and you were thirty nine
graceful in your mourning dress
you promised to stitch
the edges of the moon
to keep us safe.
After the funeral
we walked to the lake
swans fed on our tears –
all day the sky
making idle threats.
Eileen Carney Hulme
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Poem 3
On Avon
Green barge chugs on
Wide Avon’s wake, washes distant bank
RSC looms above
Red brick legend, echoing history of years.
Swinging left we approach the lock
Surrounded by tourists, day trippers, spectators
Luckily my aim is good, straight in
No bump, no scrape, no red face.
We join a line of boats, moored
I sit barefoot, enjoying cool beer in warm sun
Dangling legs dip and dabble
Toe tickling silver ripples.
A swan and her cygnet approach
I throw them some bread
Feathered flurry of friends gather
Eagerly squabbling for the finest crumb
Red legs beat fast
Swishing this way, that and other.
I stand, drain my glass
Slip on shoes
To join my crew, in town.
Andrew Scotson
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Poem 4
Lady Lantern
I look up at her back
White and glistening
Like untouched snow
Her feathers
Smooth and perfect
I gaze in awe
As water glides over her
Effortlessly
Her neck extending
To reflect her wisdom
And I wonder
Why on earth
I deserve
To be blessed
With a mother so luxurious
And knowledgeable
That a white angel sails
By her side
Morning, noon and night
Always white
Lighting her path
In the dark deep water
Shay Crinkle
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Poem 5
Mother and Son
She guides him out on his first foray
over the silent black water cupped
white wings are sails inscribing
a reflected heart by her regal body
plumb depths only known by her.
He follows her tentative, trusting
head bowed, charting her path,
his new-born body writing
grey fingers of reflection
on an unexplored ocean.
She has chosen the stillness
of the late summer evening
for this initiation; it’s safe
no predacious eyes detect
or older birds mark their path.
Soon he will mount her back
sleep subtly beneath her wings,
last week he lay beneath her
un-hatched, listening to her heart
now her follows, learns, and grows.
Next year he will have grown, fledged
on regal white wings to father another,
his mother will teach again
the skills of water.
Carolyn O’Connell
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Poem 6
Said the Cygnet to the Swan
All I see is raggedy, dirt-grey-white and perfectly
estranged, a neck and head, a fleck in wriggled lines.
Be still, she said, see this crescent moon.
Be still: for I call you rising glory of a new day.
Be still: for I call you waves of beauty.
Beneath this gloss, the ebb and flow.
Be still:
I name you Grace
small mirror of my heart.
Chaucer Cameron
