Recently I got to judge the Poetry Competition at St Kentigerns Girls’ School. The girls recited their poems beautifully and each poem had little nuggets of gold. The detail was magnificent, the words made music and the moods were magical. I loved the way one moment I laughed, the next moment I pondered and then next I felt moved. It was very hard picking winners because as Barbara Else said at The NZ Post Children’s Book Awards, everyone was a champion.
I borrowed what Joy Cowley said at the awards (‘We are a people of children’s books and people associated with children’s books are lovely people.’ ) to say we are people of poetry and people associated with poetry are lovely people. I also borrowed what Keri Kaa said, ‘There are many words and images you can use, but only the right combination will do. When you have the right combination the words and images are so much more.’ That is just right for poetry!
The Year 1 and 2 poets performed their poems exquisitely (they don’t get judged). The poems I scanned are year 1. I want to share their poems first. After that you can see the winners.
Grey rhino
Ginormous dinosaur
Swings its trunk
Sprays water
ELEPHANT
by Aanya, Year 1
Hops
Hops, hops all day
Hops
Dazzling Autumn Leaves
Looks like brown, red, wet leaves on the green grass,
Smells like disgusting dirty rubbish
from yesterday,
I crunch leaves with my feet,
The leaves swing and crash down to the ground in the wind,
I like wet leaves.
By Sophie, Year 2
Stunning Autumn Leaves
Wet and droopy leaves,
Smells like yucky sloppy mud,
Making fairy houses is fun with leaves,
Leaves are whirling, crashing and floating from the trees.
Leaves are dazzling on a summer’s day.
Sienna, Year 2
Beautiful Leaves
Yellow multi coloured leaves,
I can throw them high in the sky,
Tumbling and twirling down to the ground,
Smells like squishy muddy wet grass,
I love old coloured leaves.
By Sophia, Year 2
Leaves
Quiet flaky leaves almost shiver in the breeze.
The most beautiful colours come before your eyes
Of gold, red and yellow.
I see children playing in humongous piles of leaves.
The bitter cold on most
makes the leaves freeze.
By Lucy, Year 3, Joint Winner
Peaches the pirate
My name is Peaches the pirate
and I am the meanest pirate in all of the seas.
My hair is gold and plaited.
My bunny is called Apples.
I like to eat peach.
I have a dress that is gold and has peach on it.
I have a friend called Lola and Emma.
I have gold boots.
I have a compass that is bright orange.
And I have a sword that is bright orange.
My ship is called the Caribbean Peach.
It has a big peach on it.
Apples likes to eat apples.
I wear a pirate hat with a crown on it.
My favourite colour is orange.
Guess what my favourite letter is aargh(r). Get it!
By Chloe, Year 3 Joint Winner
Hillary’s ice cracker
I’m Hillary’s ice axe.
I was there hearing the news when Edmond was born on July the 20th 1919.
It was such an exciting moment.
I was there knowing that my one and only owner would soon come.
When Hillary’s interest in climbing came at the school trip to Mt Ruapehu, I was very excited then and always jiggled about.
I was there for the first time when he climbed Mt Oliver in the Southern Alps—It was very cold and frosty.
I was there in his cupboard when he left me for awhile when he applied to join the NZ Air Force in thhe horrible World War 2.
I was there at Everest.
Hillary and Tensing Norgay set out for the summit.
We were at 8,848 metres high from sea level.
We went hard for the last few metres—the last ascent past the Hillary Step was the hardest part to climb. We chipped in the final steps and made the summit.
We felt relieved
tired
sore
achy
numb
stiff
and also very amazed.
We knocked it off.
I’m Sir Edmond Hillary’s ice axe.
By Cassie, Year 4 Winner
Suvine My Cat
Sunset fur,
Lawnmower purr,
Coat like dappled sunlight,
Meows so loudly at night!
Piercing eyes, as green as meadows seen,
With her question mark tail
Fluffy and clean.
Suvine my cat
Jumps on the table
While Mom’s head’s low,
Nicks a little broccoli
“No Suvine NO!”
I lift her off the table,
Despite all meows of protest,
Set her on the couch now,
And tell her to “Just rest!”
My kitty eats the strangest things,
Like corn and beans and cheese,
Rice and mice and butter and lice and
Much, much more indeed!
Suvine, Suvine, Suvine.
My wonderful, loving,
Fabulous, fat,
Suvine
My
Cat.
By Vivian, Year 5 Winner
Nature’s autumn
Atumn’s wind is cold on my skin
It howls, in my ear
The trees rustle
They are whispering to me
Sun shines, through the grey clouds
As the dappled light in summer
the sky seems to cry,
as drops of water fall
onto the coloured leaves
Ples of gold, brown, orange and red
scattered everywhere
Everything turns flaky
piles of gold and brown.
Autmn is a season of colour.
By Nieve, Year 6 Winner
If Only
If only all the dead could cry out in a single roar
To say don’t send another son
To give his life to war.
They’d say look at how we lay,
Without life or limb
The bullet that tore our hearts apart
Has caused our eyes to dim.
The orders are the same,
Move forward boys, make haste
Just put your mind to the task
Don’t think of the horror and waste
The war boys, the war is for all!
God is on the side that’s right.
But the devil owns the battlefield
When you hear the cries at night.
If only all the dead could cry out in a single roar
To say don’t send another son
To give his life to war.
By Kristen, Year 7 Winner
Note from Paula: This poem got me thinking as sometimes it is hard to tell where the right is in war. I sometimes wonder if there is right and wrong on all sides.
Kereru
He’s the deepest
Olive green.
With his smooth,
eggshell white
chest exposed,
he crashes clumsily
through branches adorned
by fresh morning rivulets.
His slow, heavy
Wingbeats break
Through the stark silence.
His eyes,
Droplets of cranberry red wine.
He picks
On the last of the berries,
Then, calling a soft farewell,
‘Coo-coo, coo-coo’
He escapes Winter’s grasp,
A bird of serene hues,
He is the Kereru.
Annie, Year 7 Honour Award
That Snowy December
No-one believed me when I tried to tell
What happened when deep in the snow I fell.
They thought I was lying
And I went home crying.
But I still remember
That snowy December.
I walked to the well with a bucket in hand
Wishing I was on a beach with warm sand.
I looked into the distance
at things non-existent.
I’ll always remember
That snowy December.
I’d reached the small well when I spotted a stream.
I followed the water, I walked in a dream.
Then I started falling
For something was calling.
Oh, how I remember
That snowy December.
The rest of the story you’ll have to work out
You’d think I was mad if I told you, no doubt.
Or think I was lying
And I would start crying
Perhaps you remember
That snowy December.
By Sophia, Year 8 Winner
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