Competition Entry

There are lots of animals out there
Big, tall, some that have lots of hair.
There are some that are pets, cats, dogs and so much more
But some are as big as a door.
Some animals are dangerous though,
like snakes, spiders lions and so much more.
Some are so tiny like butterflies, ladybugs
and tinier bugs,
Some people are even scared of bugs!
But you know it’s life and life is good
so animals are
the same too.

Alone in a cage, I pace back and forth
As people giggle and laugh
Fed twice a week with cold meat,
It smells like my friend, the giraffe.

Maybe he died – too weak to live.
Dreaming of savannah plains.
And the dreamy sunset that lit up the sky
And those wonderful African rains.

A boy threw a rock through the gates
It was aimed at where I lay,
I roared and growled and swiped my paw
Until the guards took me away.

Into a room, why had I had never been here?
It was dark, suspicious and cold
I looked around as I was pulled along
My body trembled with fear.

I growled at a guard when he tugged too hard,
He smelt of blood and dirty water.
I saw a shimmer, a gleaming knife.
This was a room of slaughter.

The men pulled me closer while I tugged away
Remember the days I used to play and run
In grass made of gold
Remember the days now my time has come
All because I was sold

Bang, this lion was gone,
I was weak and slow not active.
Don’t let this happen you will regret it.
Making us captive.

Every Christmas there are lights
Some are bright
While others are dark as the night
You can see it if you look
But be careful cause some are hung by hooks
Christmas lights go all around
Even on mounds where nobody looks
I study how to do lights from books

Winning Poem

I ask no lovelier thing
Than this winter morning:
See how the sparrow bounces on the thin branch,
Its feathers fluffing up against the chill;
See how the sun hides, peeping
Like the dying embers of a beach fire,
While jolly Winston-Churchill-clouds
Skip across the crisp, white sky.
Look! The deep red holly berries glint
Like Santa’s rosy cheeks
As my mind fills with Christmas
Hopes and dreams.

So let me tell you what Santa
Does before Christmas Eve,
(Pure imagination )
It’s just a guess
(Rather, a complete guess)
But I just think that the humor is less.

So, Santa was checking all the gifts that had been packed,
And they were packed,
So, he left for the Toy Factory,
(For a surprise inspection)
It didn’t take long for him to find out that the bookshelves were broken
So he told the elves,
(Who gave each other a sly smile)
To mend the bookshelves.

Soon Santa Claus knew that it was time to get ready,
But he just got to know that his beard needed a trim,
(Honestly, it was Mrs Claus who reminded him)
So, the elves started trimming his beard,
(They were too clumsy for words)
In the meantime Mrs Claus prepared a mug of steaming hot cocoa,
Filled up to the brim.

Finally it was Christmas Eve,
Vixen, Blitzen and all the other reindeer were ready,
(Prancer was stamping his feet out of excitemen )
The weather was merry and bright,
Because Santa was going to come tonight,
(Now, he was in India)
He heard a father tell his son,
That Santa came at night as it was his style,
Santa’s eyes twinkled and he gave a wide smile.

The tree is up,
The countdown finished,
No worries at all.

The stockings hung,
The mince pie and milk for Santa
A carrot for his tireless steed.

Is it real?
Can it really be?
Will I wake up tomorrow with a present under the tree?

The tree is up,
The countdown finished,
No worries, no worries.

I stand at the border of two streets.
One, a bleak reminder of dearth,
the other an interval of comfort.
A young girl warms her knuckles,
the brief kindling of a premature flame,
illuminating a comet in her eyes,
as apartment block carollers permeate,
the low hum of privileged rejoicing.

The street reigns quietly.
As if to lull, the stinging disparity
of pennies and breadcrumbs,
as a stray cat roams past, carefree
its tail pointing to neither end
of the street, but up to the sky,
where extinct streets
and forsaken hamlets commune
in the stairways of equity.

Tomorrow is Christmas Day.

The cat is very fat, fat, fat
The cat is wearing a hat, hat, hat
The cat chats so much
Meow, meow, meow.

Drifting through the sky.
Little snowflakess don’t you cry.
Drift down.
On to the ground.
Where Santa will cross through the silver path… on to the sleigh of truth.
Jumping, flying spreading the joy.
Leaping, soaring through the sky.
Santa in here tonight.
Spreading the Christmas feeling.
Giving the gifts to children all around.
Giving everyone the time to feel the special

Christmas is glimmering fun.
Horrible hairy reindeer ate Father Christmas’s cookies!
Rudolf races across the shiny sky.
Icicles are freezing.
Sparkly diamond lights.
Trees are beautiful and twinkly.
Music playing.
A shiny star on top of a snowy white tree.
Snowman glowing.