Congratulations! Here are the finalists for the bird-poem competition. It was very hard picking these as there were some outstanding entries. Some poets thought about the fact that the way we live on the planet is putting our precious birds at risk. There were poems with excellent detail (making the birds come alive on the screen). There were poems with excellent rhythm. Some of the very best poems were simple poems that made a picture grow. I thought Paramata School came up with some terrific bird poems, with outstanding language and images.
All these poems deserve a prize, but I only have the one book to give away for this. It is Joy Cowley’s picture book, Manukura: The White Kiwi, illustrated by Bruce Potter and published by Random House (2012). Thank you Random House for the prize book!
The winning poem is by Stephanie. I loved the way she took an issue (a hazard for birds) and used good detail to show us an example of it. Her poem is simple but very moving. I like the slender lines with their shiny words and the fresh similies. Congratulations!
White Heron Trapped in an Oil Slick
She is a thin branch
nearly snapping.
Her spiky feathers
pierce the moonlight.
Her beak a needle
hanging looose from a quilt.
Her eyes the sky
turns black
as her memory
is forgotten.
Stephanie L Year 8 aged 12, Kirkwood Intermediate School, Christchurch
The Heron’s Catch
Bright eyes, an open beak
Swimming fish, a trickling creak
Wild mind, ready to snatch
Splashing water, the heron’s catch
Holly B Year 6 Paramata School
Pied Stilt
On long, red legs,
the Pied Stilt sways;
a cat jumps out
and ends her days.
On long, red legs
the Pied Stilt sways,
although his mate
has been dead for days.
Small brown eggs
their parent snatched,
pooor brown eggs
will not be hatched.
Benjamin C Year 6 Paramata School
Nature of Porirua
Eels splash in the pure streams
Nibbling at the soggy algae
A swallow
Returning to his humble nest
Presenting his mate with a gift
On a Judgeford bridge
Rushes sway
Around the glassy film of the Pauatahanui inlet
In which the shags dive
Oyster Catchers
Hammers of the seashore
Bring this place alive
Two azure wings
Feathers of retreating waves
Hill separated by stretching farmland
Swans settle on the surface
Curving their elegant necks
On the Porirua harbour
Waddling shelducks
A strong love bond
Mallards provide company
Pukeko sway
In time with the raupo
On Porirua harbour
Shore Plovers
Rarities of Mana Island
Make a trek to Plimmerton
As the terns
Gracefully flitting
Plunge into the water
This is the nature of my city Porirua
Ben C Year 6 Paramata School
Beyond My Control
At Caswell Sound 1946
I watch from the balcony
the olive-brown ground.
The South Island piopio
threatened, endangered,
suffering, dying.
Cats and rats killing
for fun
with no remorse.
Their kinds’ population
decreases by
the day.
But I didn’t do anything
It was beyond
my control.
At Caswell Sound 1947
I watch the last piopio die
their kind is now extinct
And I didn’t help them,
it was beyond
my control.
Ewen aged 11, Year 6, Fendalton Open Air Primary School, Christchurch
Ruru
My wings beat heavily like a drum
I spy a rat scuttling under a bush
I pounce like a hungry cat
but miss, a delicious meal
will be mine.
Mary S aged 10, Year 6 Fendalton Open-Air School
Bird Poem
Like a love song, the magpie sings from high up in her macrocarpa tree. The tree sways gently in the calm breeze. Her vivid white feathers flash against the harsh glare of the sun. Eyes like black beads, beak like pliers. Talons reaching out to grab her prey, so close, so close. Blood drumming in her ears. The field mouse freezes as the great bird swoops over her like a silent, deathly shadow.
The magpie.
Ella S Year 8, aged 12, Ohaupo School
Bird Poem
The best part of spring
is when birds come out to sing.
Black or white,
dark or light,
birds come out to sing.
Small or big,
they peck and dig,
when birds come out to sing.
To girls and boys
they cause such joy,
the birds that come to sing.
Sophie P, Year 7, aged 11 St Kentigern Girl’s School
Moa (A poem for Massey Wildlife Centre)
The Moa, unlike most others, was not exceedingly bright,
The Moa, unlike most others, gave up the advantage of flight.
The Moa, unlike most others, took on a tremendous height,
The Moa, unlike most others, was a five on the scale of might.
The Moa, unlike most others, was hunted and soon extinct,
The Moa, unlike most others, was stuffed and made distinct.
The Moa, I like above others, I think they should celebrate,
The Moa, I like above all others, because Moa are absolutely great.
Helena M, aged 11, Year 7, Palmerston North Intermediate School
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