Read Poetry Excerpts From Pastures New
IDRIS HAS A FLOWERING POETIC TALENT
A Sussex woman's love of nature has inspired a poem which has won a national competition.
Idris Woodfield, of Chichester, has won first prize with her poem Breaking Free, which she entered for the Pastures New competition.
"The poem was inspired by butterflies breaking free to fly," she said. "It came to me when walking in the Sussex countryside, watching the butterflies on all the wild flowers."
As her prize, Idris receives £100 and a free copy of this anthology.
Joanna Cummings, of United Press, spoke very highly of Idris' poem. "Breaking Free was beautifully written," she said. "The judges admired her talent for writing about a familiar topic - nature - in an unusual and captivating way."
Idris, who has been writing since she was 18, has had many poems published in anthologies and has recited them at readings and concerts. She has also had poems broadcast on The Midland Home Service and on Sky Digital Radio. "I have entered United Press competitions in the past but not been successful, so it was a wonderful surprise to finally win one," added Idris.
You can read Idris's winning poem below:
BREAKING FREE
Glittering eager atom of life, breaking free
from pupa-skin of soiled, unlovely drape.
And realises its innate destiny,
diversity of colour, beauty of shape.
Life gathered within, unfurls wings,
borne upwards into freedom of buoyant air.
Fervent in ritual ecstasy to flowers clings,
plunging proboscis to suck the nectar there.
With sight and scent seeks its own kind,
whirling, gliding in prolongation of flight.
To fill and be filled, back to back entwined,
climax of day of butterfly, jewel-bright.
Idris Woodfield, Chichester, Sussex
You can read more excerpts from Pastures New below ...
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THE UNIVERSAL VOICE
As through the hills
The river flows,
So through the leaves
The cooling breeze blows,
As we know the faults
Of the choices we chose,
So of these too
Mother Nature knows.
As the foaming waves
Crash upon the shore,
So wets the sands
And die back as before,
As the universal voice
Blesses a child’s golden-hearted core,
So with the universe
May you be forevermore.
As the setting sun
Is the birth of the night-time moon,
So are the owls
That take place of sleeping loons,
As morning ends
And we move into noon,
So must end noon
For nightfall will be here soon.
Max Anderson-Hopkins
Max Anderson-Hopkins from Lancashire, has written over 100 poems, but this is the first one he has had published. “I started writing in 2008,” he said. “I was on holiday in the small Scottish fishing village of Gardenstown and the universal voice called across the sea.” He also enjoys drumming and fencing, and his ambition is to become a performer and well-established writer. He would most like to meet Matt Smith from Doctor Who. “He has a positive attitude and makes people laugh,” he said.
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ANOTHER DAY
Another day, another moment to grasp
Another time to take the chance.
Stepping out, turning round, facing something new
Being brave to make the change
Remembering nothing remains the same.
Another day, another minute to chase
Another journey with new adventures to face
Breathing deep, nerves on edge, following new paths.
Taking risks discovering new tasks, new friends
Becoming stronger, growing bolder, wiser
Realising nothing will ever be the same.
Another day, another place with so much to see
Another challenge, finding there is more to be
Learning, growing, forever moving on to something new.
Knowing life cannot remain unchanged
Certain you will never be the same again.
Another day to venture further on beyond ...
Martine Gafney
"Dedicated to my Jamie. The future is out there waiting for you, take it with both hands."
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DAWN’S AWAKENING
Half-hidden in the fine mist
A cool steam bath covering the vista
Dawn’s dew hanging her diamonds from a spider’s web
Sparkling in the premature sunrise at the birth of the day
Quiet, undisturbed, she slowly undresses the earth with each step
Exposing her beauty to passers-by who dare to impose
She listens to the caw of a lone hawk
Echoing across the fertile ground
Flying low to capture a glimpse of her nakedness
She smiles shyly, happy to reveal her loveliness
But moves quickly to avoid capture
Chris Smith
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REMINISCENCE
It’s been many years since we moved to pastures new
But always I’m reminiscing of old places that I knew
Places where as a child I spent many happy years
Childhood days of happiness, without worries, without fears
I remember the old school playground where we always had such fun
Enjoying games and laughter before getting homework done
The corner shop where we’d go to get lollipops and sweets
The excitement on school sports day when we paraded through the streets
I often think of the classroom where you and I first met
Where we fell in love, and you gave me your chocolate
How could I ever forget?
We were young, but love stayed strong throughout our grown-up years
We married young and made a good life, and kept each other near
Now today, we share pastures new, and remember past times together
Thinking of the days we met long ago, and knowing our love will last forever
Jan Imeson
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TRANSHUMANCE
Bright sunshine lights a mountain tarn
Like a shimmering lake of lava
Warm winds brush its wild shoreline
As mildly as a bashful intruder
Jangling dangling bells are heard
Playing no tune in particular
A rambling shepherd holds up a crook
Herding a flock of bleating sheep
Into this verdant caldera
His canine companion, let off the leash
Keeps herbivores in formation
Yapping and snapping at their clambering feet
The woolly jumpers’ weight of numbers
Sheepishly turn the other cheek
Firstly they lap at the fragrant waters
Slaking their thirst from the stagnant lake
Exposed pink skin baking in the sun
Like a lamb-basted Sunday roast
Turning, they graze on tenacious grasses
Scattered round the upland slopes
Shorn of last wintertime’s hot couture
Fleeced by sharp shears that cut, nick and snip
Their tour guides led them to sunnier climes
On a summer holiday package trip
Aidan Alemson
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FIRST BORN
The time is three thirty in the middle of the night,
Your birth wasn’t easy, you put up a fight.
The day and date is Tuesday the seventeenth,
You share your birthday with your third cousin Keith.
The month is January, first in the year,
We can all treasure you, now you’re safely here.
The year is 2011,
So cold is the weather, our hands in our pockets we delve.
Watching you sleep, you’re looking perfect in every little way,
Filling all our hearts with warmth and delight, just like a perfect summer’s day.
The world will seem so magical through your little blue eyes,
Soon you’ll be inquisitive and wanting answers to your wherefores and whys.
You will have many adventures and experience even more pastures new,
Your lovely Mum and Dad will always be there, to protect and
gently guide you through.
Annette Taylor
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FINEDON TOWN
Finedon really is a town
It’s not a village at all
I happen to know that this is true
Because it has its own town hall
We have a pub that’s called The Bell
It’s one of the oldest in the land
Oh and a magnificent Saxon church
Which really is quite grand
The Dolben Cricket Ground is picturesque
Finedon Team play there
It’s a lovely spot to sit and dream
And take in the fresh air
In the old Quaker house
We have a small museum
They have some really good displays
You really should come and see them
We have a community centre
Situated in an old Methodist chapel
Oh and it was a Finedon man who
Invented the rusk and then invented dried apple
We now have our very own rock and roll vicar
Who used to be in an eighties band
Believe me, Finedon is a really nice town
I think one of the best in the land
Cheryl Harris
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PROGRESS
With at least a trace of sanctimony
In our hearts we castigate our ancestry
Horrified
With things they said
They wrote
They did
That we consider incorrect ethically and politically
Those who have gone before
Are by you so cruelly derided
In a debate that is obviously so one sided
From the past
In time machine we flew
Through vortex we were hurled
To your adjacent parallel world
To observe
The things you say
You write
You do
With hand on heart
Not tit for tat
We can truly say
We’re very horrified with you
Geoffrey Martin
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THE ENDING OF THE YEAR
Like the swiftness of the eagle
Comes the ending of the year
With war torn grief and sorrow
In a time of discontent
The eerie setting of the sunset
Gives way to the breaking of waves
To make ready for the new tomorrow
And a new year ahead
The howling of the west winds
Through the tall trees of the woodlands
Across the hills and valleys
To the corners of the Earth
The souls of our dear departed
reach out from the world beyond
for hope, love, and happiness
And peace to all mankind
Jim Carlin
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