Local Poem Competition 2008
2008 is a big year for Stephanie
A poem about her home village has won a national competition for Stephanie Spiers of Rising Brook in Stafford.
The poem, which is all about Rising Brook, has won £1,000 for Stephanie in this free to enter annual competition held by United Press.
“I was absolutely stunned when I was told I had won the competition,” said a delighted Stephanie. “This is the first major competition I’ve ever entered and I’m really delighted that I decided to send in my poem. I’m probably going to use my prize to help finance the launch of a novel I’ve written.”
Stephanie entered the competition after noticing an item in her local newspaper. “It was free to enter so I thought I would write a poem about Rising Brook and send it in. All submissions need to have a local theme.”
The competiton was judged by Peter Quinn, managing director of United Press, who told us, “I love Stephanie’s poem. It’s both descriptive and emotive. She’s obviously a very talented poet and a very worthy winner of the competition. We hold our local poem competition every year to encourage people to write about their home area and it’s aimed at encouraging more people to get involved in writing poetry. We have had entries from people aged nine to 99, many of whom have never written poetry before.”
Stephanie is a trustee of Rising Brook Writers. “We visit senior citizens groups to bring the joys of creative writing to them,” explained Stephanie. “The venture, which is supported by lottery funding, has great benefits for the mental health of the elderly.”
THE RISING BROOK
Springing up at Hyde Lea, by sacred hill fort ring,
Rushing headlong down bank, while grazing cattle sing,
Whistles under M6 gully, sending winging bats all in a scurry,
Trickles under nettled slopes, where water voles are in a hurry.
Forced under graffiti footbridge, to skirt the fence by Highfield’s Club,
Sings alongside the football pitch; wide-eyed vixen hides her cub.
Darkly under West Way, squeezed by pipe and drain,
Bubbles into sunlight, lets the allotments ease their strain,
Plays seek under school lane, dapples to glimpse the daylight,
Plunges under the four four nine; murky, black as any night.
Whipping downhill, picks up speed, tumbles through Brook Glen,
Railway embankment looming large, culverted by ancient men,
Emerges, gushing fierce; races into Silkmore Lane,
Bank bursting torrent, laughs and chortles o’er the man-made plain.
Spills pell-mell to water meadow, gushing with a new-found glee,
At the Radfords, begins in earnest; its journey to the far off sea.
Stephanie Spiers, Stafford