Chiswick Book Festival Young People’s Poetry Competition 2020: prizewinners
Lockdown category
Life In Lockdown by Elin Shaw
As the cities lose their joy
Streets are sad because there isn’t even a girl or boy
Hospitals are as busy as bee hives
And sadly some lose their lives
Scientists don’t take a second’s break,
they’re working on a vaccine for goodness sake
NHS risk their lives in work to get a recovery clue
NHS we owe you
People are running out of food
And people aren’t in a good mood
Yet the disease spreads on
As the lockdown starts everyone groans
Families are left all alone
Children like I miss every friend
Because the relationship will never end
Waiting by Mair Skipper
Nature has nothing to worry about,
no problems on when this will end.
The blossoms on the tree, bloom for no one to see
and the birds continue their song.
But we’re at home lonely without friends
waiting nervously for this ALL to end.
Rainbow by Alice Esler
Red is for rubies that sparkle and shine,
Orange for sunsets that look divine.
Yellow for lemons for cool lemonade,
Green is for oaks that give squirrels shade.
Blue is for oceans giving homes to fish,
Indigo for pansies that sway and swish.
Violet for dresses that visit the ball,
Rainbows on windows giving smiles to all.
Coronavirus by Suri Bains
I heard about a virus on the BBC news,
Adults were whispering, but nobody knew.
Should I be worried?
What will happen to me?
Nobody knows, we will just have to see.
All of a sudden the world has gone into Lockdown,
Slowdown, breakdown, meltdown, upside down!
I am beginning to drown, calm down.
No school. No friends. No family. No anybody!
Social distancing, queues at the shop,
Empty shelves, no toilet roll, I am in shock!
I miss my school, my family and friends,
More time with my parents, which drives them around the bend!
I am happy then sad, when will this end?
Locked In by Tisha Maroo
Locked in
We did not ask to be part of history,
But yet we are here.
Locked in, in a lock down,
Within all four walls we all stand.
With my family I must stay,
Keeping myself at bay.
I am still sure that I can breathe,
And I know I have no sneeze.
My restless mind keeps thinking,
of fevers, coughs and aching lungs.
It’s always raining but when we are at home,
It is as sunny as paradise.
Has a month ever felt this long?
To me it feels like a year gone wrong.
Year 3
Roar! by Diana Morrow
I roar
To the moon
And to the stars,
I roar
To the trees
Swaying in the breeze,
I will roar
With all the tiger ghosts
And to them alone
I will roar
When I leave.
Will you roar?
Let’s Make A Butterfly! by Riam Kapur
It needs
Wings like a melted rainbow,
Feelers like matchsticks about to glow,
Eyes like little drops of snow,
A body like a flute playing a tune,
And a sound like a clitter and a clatter of drops of rain.
About My Nonna by Ella Miller
You are the petals on my flower,
You are the bee that pollinates my flower,
You are everything a flower needs,
You are water that waters my flower,
You are the sun that shines on my flower,
You are everything a flower needs,
You are the life in my flower,
You are the spirit in my flower,
You are everything a flower needs.
The Whale’s Song by Willow Rose Stern
The lonely whale
The beautiful sad lonely whale
The whale’s song is like an angel singing
His song is so pretty
Rare creature
Huge
Blue
Very very deep in the night zone
Up to get air so he can find more whales
They are vanishing from the ocean
Vulnerable poor whale
He’s all alone in the crashing sea
He moves slowly
Swimming through corals and caves and icebergs
Trying to find a friend
Dinosaur, Dinosaur, Dinosaur by Belle Rose Burchell
Dinosaur, dinosaur, dinosaur
T-rex never waits to greet
He just eats and eats and eats.
Mr Steg has many plates
But he never waits.
Dinosaur, dinosaur, dinosaur
No listening to T-rex feet
Going past in the street
Dr Dip as loud as an elephant, Yes!
Or maybe you can guess
Dinosaur, dinosaur, dinosaur
No more, no more, no more
There are no more dinosaur
Sometimes On A Special Day by Vinnie Johnson
Sometimes on a special day
I have a visit from my friend Fay.
If I’m lucky she brings me sweets
I love to have my favourite treats.
Purple, brown, pink and blue.
These are colours I like to chew.
Green, apple, orange, pear,
I am like a honey bear.
Toffee, sour, chocolate, cherry,
Red and black and blueberry,
Lemon, lime and banana,
I gobble them like a piranha.
The sugar isn’t great for me
It makes me crazy like a bumble bee.
But now and then it’s very yummy,
Tasty and delicious in my tummy.
The Magic Box by Harry Huber-Offord
I will put in my box
A broken skull of an old man
The long vast sky above Earth.
The technology that we have built.
I will put in my box
A faint smell of burnt wood
A light that carries from our massive Sun.
The deafening of metal scraping against rock
I will put in my box
The shadow of king henry viii
The red light from a rainbow
The sweet smell of flowers.
My box is fashioned from iron, hardened lava and the fabric of matter
With diamond encrusted inside and out with emerald and gold.
Its hinges are made of rock from Jupiter
A Handful Of Wishes by Esme Campbell-White
I wish to be in Italy eating gelato,
I wish to meet the Queen and wear a violet gown,
I wish I had an albatross to fly the seven seas,
I wish to play Bach at the Royal Albert Hall,
If I would speak a language it would be Japanese,
If I ruled the world I would give money to the poor
And clean the ocean,
I shall stop commotion
In fights and war.
Year 4
Three Cheers for Captain Tom! by Matthew Lopez
Covid-19 is the war of our time,
Placing NHS staff squarely at the front line.
Nurses and doctors young and old,
Providing an effort that refuses to fold.
The message is simple, stay home, stay safe,
For now, we must each remain in one place.
Not seeing family or friends is a struggle,
But if we don’t, the workload of our key workers will double.
The Prime Minister was unwell and in intensive care,
He has promised to protect and keep us from going there.
So, Boris, get Protective Equipment to the front line,
Allow our doctors and nurses to continue to shine.
We remember all of those who have died,
The numbers so high that many have cried.
Captain Tom Moore has given us a cheer,
So much so that the country holds him dear.
For now, the country’s struggle goes on,
And if we feel down, we look to Captain Tom.
A veteran out of retirement for a new fight,
Leading by example in the hope that we get it right!
What is Family? by Aila Safdar
A place of warmth
As they cuddle you softly
A safe place to go
When you worry hesitantly
A feeling of excitement
As they play with you frequently
A sense of loveliness
As they embrace you gently
A feeling of fulfilment
Not taken for granted
Cherish these days
An Ant on Your Lip by Imogen Milns
An ant on your lip,
Is a nasty trick,
It can bite or nip,
Or even give a little lick.
It feels itchy or tickly,
As it crawls under your nose.
Gosh it was prickly,
So I brushed it onto my clothes.
But that naughty little ant,
Jumped straight back on my nose.
Well, I guess that’s just how it goes.
Our Precious World by Edie Widowson
Lush green grass swaying in the breeze,
Red juicy apples growing in the trees,
Huge plump cherries which only grow in Spring,
Has birds eating them with brightly coloured wings.
Beautiful, colourful, huge, tall plants,
When you walk past you can’t help but take a glance,
And the wonderful bees pollinating flowers,
But us humans will kill them within hours.
Journey Through History by Pin-Chieh Chou
I saw huge pyramids
with jewels and mummies inside,
I hopped onto Caesar’s horse
to enjoy a little ride.
Splash! Across the stormy sea
on a boat so thin and long,
Vikings and Anglo-Saxons,
all so unbelievably strong.
The poor people of Europe died
from the Black Death disease,
and pow! The Great Fire of London came,
until it finally ceased.
Whoosh! Whizzing bullets arrived
and up the bombs flew,
first it was World War 1
and then it was World War 2.
ExoMars explores that planet
to see how safe it’ll be,
the coronavirus outbreak
will be the future’s history.
If I Were A Paintbrush by Ana Valganon-Archanco
If I were a paintbrush
I would paint the scales of a mermaid
And the hive of a bee
I would paint the shine of the sun,
And the ocean blue sea
Gently I would paint the red rose in the beauty and the beast
If I were a paintbrush
I would stroke the smiling cat in Alice and Wonderland
And I would paint the night sky until I fell asleep.
Warm, beautiful, bright, blue air,
There is only one and none to spare,
It’s got what looks like cotton candy,
And when you’re thirsty it really comes in handy.
So, if we all work together,
There won’t be any more changing the weather,
From now on please don’t litter,
You’ll make nature horrid and bitter.
Coronavirus by Rory Hunter
Coronavirus at No.10,
Save lives by staying at home.
How long will we be in lockdown?
Has it caught me?
Sister stress,
Anxious, annoyed and cross!
Finished reading Toro, Toro,
Watched Le Mans ‘66
Still got Beano coming,
My secret agency still runs
But have to do social distancing,
Can’t see my friends at all.
Year 5
What Is The Moon? by Elizabeth Morrow
The moon is a grain of sugar,
fallen from a star’s teacup
The moon is a white flowerbud,
emerging from the sun as a seed
The moon is a splash of milk,
spilled from a giant’s jug
The moon is a pale face,
gazing at the glittering stars
The moon is an silver eye,
watching endlessly for its lover
Buddy by Bea Bradley
Sly, sleek, slippery Sphinx
Wiry whiskers
Eyes like amber marbles pleading up at me
Buddy – master of Stroud House.
With a war painted face and neat feet
He strides around like he owns the place
Thunderous paws,
Bounding stealthily,
Agile as a gymnast,
He traverses along our chairs
Scraping and scratching at my mum’s best chair
Before returning to my bed like a bouncy boomerang
His purr is a deep rumble like thunder vibrating on my thighs
He stretches like melted chocolate across my lap
The smell of nutty fur reassures my senses
Wriggling and snuffling,
He leaps assuredly off my bed
And he teleports downstairs to eat his dinner.
The Snow Leopard by Fiona Sweeney
Stealthy paws prowl across the groaning ground,
Crunching under its outstretched claws,
The snow leopard found its target.
She crouches back ready to pounce,
Almost tasting the tempting tender rabbit,
Her eyes narrowed to slits.
Into her eyes comes a hunting glare,
So elegantly her strong paws lift off the ground,
The hare squeaks but it is too late.
Silence.
The Beauty Of Nature by Timothee Sambor
The beauty of nature,the beauty of life,
The beauty of nature, where there is no strife.
Lush are the fields that grow everyday
The tranquility of the forest where there is no fray.
The swaying of the flowers, dancing to the moon,
The birds sing their mellow song, humming their tunes.
Crystal blue is the sky,
Look at the birds, look at them fly.
Spacious and unending are the gem green meadows.
The farmer’s dog edges around the house,tiptoe.
The Beauty of nature is infinite:
The beauty of nature, the beauty of life.
The Final Jump by Ava Graham
The fears of falling off and your horse getting hurt,
The joy of landing safely,
The pressure of winning the competition,
The excitement of being in the air,
The feel of the strength of your horse,
The bitter taste of air rushing into your mouth,
The sound of the horses hooves thumping the ground,
The silence of nerves spreading around the arena,
The sight of the judge coming to you with the trophy,
The smell of flowers around your horse’s neck.
The Stick by Nikhal Ghai
I am the stick alone in a wood.
I am the stick, who said if only I could.
If only I could fly.
If only I was not shy.
These trees loom over me.
They’re dark and big.
Not a slither of sunlight shines upon me.
To be blown away into another world, would be a dream.
Yet I lay here still alone in a wood.
Love Poem by Siddhant Shetty
This poem is dedicated to my sister,
With her, life is a real twister!
Without her, life would be as sore as a blister.
So should I tell you about her, Mister?
Her disposition is sunny most days,
On others, it is a fiery blaze.
Bur she never ceases to amaze.
We often do fight,
But eventually make it allright,
Everyone thinks that we are tight,
And in their observations, they’re right!
But when all said and done
My sister is my shining sun.
To me my sister is number one,
Especially because she’s loads of fun!!!
If I Were Invisible by Emmie Websper
If I were a homeless person
I would feel unknown and depressed
If I were disabled
I would feel unseen and helpless
If I were an isolated elderly person
I would feel out of sight and lonely
If I were a child in care
I would feel disregarded and abandoned
If I were a minority in my own country
I would feel unrecognised and voiceless
If I had a learning difficulty
I would feel like me
A Song Of Love And Pain by Clarissa Lovatt-Young
Cycling along a quiet lane,
I heard a cuckoo sing his song.
He sang of flowers and of rain,
A wild call so clear and strong.
Oh cuckoo, cuckoo sing again,
Of your songs that make me sigh.
Of the flowers and the rain,
And of the violet sky.
Your song of love fills me with life,
But you hide because you’re shy.
The pain you suffer is like a knife
How can such love make me cry?
Oh cuckoo, cuckoo sing again,
Your songs that make me fly.
Sing of the love and of the pain,
But, alas, he said goodbye.
Year 6
A View From The Bridge by Bella Fletcher
Over the murk, under the bridge of stone,
Stretches an emerald-green patchwork of knitted foam.
Continents of algae lie lazily before me,
Whilst countries remain hidden, advised to flee.
The river engulfs them, showing no mercy,
Spiriting them deep down to a world of mystery.
In all directions new life unfurls,
Tweeting and peeping at this wonderous new world.
Baby coots and all things alike,
Gather together for their first ever night.
Whilst watching over them their mother sees,
Dawdling ducklings following her lead.
Spring Is Here by Giorgia Carraretto
Blossoms bloom in the morning light,
Warmer appear to be the nights,
Lamb browse on fresh grass:
Spring is here at last!
Shoots begin to grow and turn into flowers,
Nightingales sing until the later hours.
Leaves are green again on treetops,
Farmers begin to plant their crops.
Fields, plains and hills,
Colored by violets and daffodils.
Their sweet scent attracts the bees,
Animals give birth in the gentle breeze.
I can feel it in the air,
I hear music everywhere.
Happiness spreads upon the fields of grass,
Spring is here at last!
Ode To Eating Mangoes On Holiday by Nattie Thompson
Oh mangoes,
Thy taste is sweet and succulent
I couldn’t bear to eat any other
Fresh fruit except for thee.
I can’t resist the temptation
Of picking you ripe off the charming tree.
It’s such a mouth watering sensation
Biting into you for free.
I wish thou art grown in this nation.
Thy mottled green skin is beautiful
With golden insides like gleaming sunlight.
I will never eat a banana.
I will never eat an apple.
I will never eat an orange.
I will always eat mango.
The Postman by Alex Hunter
The gravel crunches under the weight
Of the vans faded black tyres
The postman steps out
His scuffed black boots stepping closer
To the polished oak panelled door
He swings his satchel over his shoulder
And pulls himself up the stone steps
The birds sing the early morning hymns
As the grey hound comes bounding out
To give the courier his salutations
A brown paper package clasped in two hands
Before one limb is used to alert the recipients of the package
He is greeted by a tall black haired Irishman –
A silk dressing gown hastily pulled over his bare shoulders
A goodbye and a thank-you are exchanged
Before the mailman returns to his vehicle
And so the pilgrimage continues
House by house.
Nature Moor Poem by Eliza Cloughley
Drip, drip, drip, hardly heard o’er the howl of the wind.
Rain makes the once soft grass wetter, wetter, wetter.
Cold is in the air; smell the icy rain.
Never, never, never, will the moor see light again.
Thundering in the sky, are clouds of murky grey.
They reign their land with terror and
Imprison the moonlit sky.
Where down below, land knows its end is nigh.
Underneath the powerful puffs,
Abominable rocks stand tall.
Assistants to the vastest cloud,
Their orders are heard, clear and loud.
Blown about, trees keel over and die
While the lake is unaffected.
Its waters move only when liquid falls
Accompanied by icy balls.
Drip, drip, drip, hardly heard o’er the howl of the wind.
Rain makes the once soft grass wetter, wetter, wetter.
Cold is in the air; smell the icy rain.
Never, never, never, will the moor see light again.
Mountains by Ghita Berrada
Up high in the sky
Standing there watching the world
In a bright white dress
YEAR 7
Family Food by Bailey Stammers
Birds flying in the sky, gaining height
‘til they are out of sight.
Swooping down to the ground,
Coming down without a sound.
Landing on their prey’s back,
What a beautiful attack.
Bringing it back to its next,
Now it can have a little rest.
The chicks,
With their little clock that ticks,
Eating away at the feast.
Playing for a little while,
Then they are hungry again.
Bearing the pain
In his wings,
He goes up again
After the chick sings.
Looking for a worm,
And its ugly squirm,
And brings it back for them.
Pandemic Paradise by Caitlin Gallagher Rattan
Stone buildings, shards of light
Faded cobblestones, windows bright
Black cabs and riverboats
Torn umbrellas and winter coats
Rain and mist blanket the day
Streetlamps, flickering, guiding your way.
Tourists shops soon sell out,
Cross the road, cars swerve, people shout.
Then… the hustle, the bustle, the daily commute,
Stabbed with a knife, the whole world put on mute.
Shops shut with a bang, doors swing fiercely closed,
The whole of London in one pandemic doze.
Watching the headlines, how many lives lost?
Jumbled up worries, are we safe? At what cost?
The streets are bare and the billboards peel off,
Everything’s come to one panicked stop.
But there’s a crack in the pavement, a hole in the wall,
Where something green is beginning to crawl.
It spins and it twists as it commences to grow,
Bringing a whole fluorescent kingdom in tow!
The trees on the side begin to arch,
And the street looks strange, almost like the park.
Sunlight dances and the air tastes like spring,
Nature’s woken up, reclaiming the throne- to be king!
The Island by Cameron Cobb
My clothes are soaked and I feel so cold
I just lie still and do as I’m told
The sky is black, rain lashes down
Waves crash and smash, bodies shiver all around
Then through a hole, I see a mass far away
A land where I might be safe every single day
The Queen, Paddington Bear, Big Ben and tea
An island that might look after me
My mum said I must go, as she pushed me on the boat
She cried her tears and paid every coin and note
Dear Island take my son, give him a school and a life
Take him away from bloodshed and strife.
I try to stretch my legs, people moan and cry
The islands getting close, the sun rises in the sky
I shake and sob, my stomach is tight.
Please let the island help me, let this be right.
Dreams Of Freedom by Ruby Green
One day, I’ll be free.
Free from the ropes that tie me down;
I’ll shake them off,
And leave them withering on the ground
As I soar into the sky.
One day, I’ll be free.
Free from the weight that rests on my shoulders;
I’ll drop it to the floor,
And leave it in a lump
As I run off into the wind.
One day, I’ll be free.
Free from the anxiety that crowds my mind;
It’ll evaporate,
Leaving happy, positive thoughts
To help me laugh and smile.
One day, I’ll be free.
Free from everything that’s held me back;
My body and soul will escape,
Ready to face anything thrown their way,
Ready for the world.
Moulding Words by Ivy Lo
Moulding words
Is like moulding clay.
As your hand reaches for the clump of clay,
The same hand reaches for a notebook.
As you start to soften the clay,
You start to soften the whirling words in your mind.
As you start to mould the clay,
You start to mould the words.
Mixing them up,
Breaking them,
Rubbing out the lines and symbols,
Starting again.
Polishing.
Baking.
Changing.
Moulding.
Moulding words.
Moulding clay.
Thanks to ChiswickW4.com for its continuing support for the Young People’s Poetry Competition