POETRY COMPETITION - THE ORNAMENT

This month's competition was poetry and the theme chosen by the group was: The Ornament. The results were announced at our meeting on 25 April.

Please see below all our 19 entries, plus Nevina Abhvani's piece which she read on 25 April and was thoroughly enjoyed by fellow poets and writers.

It's congratulations to the following:

1st Place: Helen Nicell - Shall We Dance
2nd Place: Sumi Watters - Counting Blessings
Joint 3rd Place: Andrea Neidle - The Bridal Headband;
Joint 3rd Place: Liz Shaw - Granny's Mantelpiece

THE ORNAMENT by Nevina Abhvani

This fine ornament; a treasure

Embossing my entirety

Scared; marked

Burning torches scorched symbols

Where do I belong?

My ornament still forgives

Shields me from

Extremes; Protection

I wear my ornament proudly

Can the loss forgive?

This fine ornament; existed

Long before your ‘findings’

Greeted new found friends

Extended arms

Olive branches in hand

We woke up; in chains

Blind eye tunnels;

‘Point of No Return’

Container ships washing

Past, present and future

Our ghosts haunt the basements

I wore my ornament proudly

Storms carry gigantic waves; engulfing minds

Wave-energy turned your course

A moment’s blink; all captured

Colonisation; nations lost

But I wore my ornament proudly

Segregation your power

No Blacks and Asians

Little boy dejected

Glimpse of colonial bar

Wonders what delights lie beyond

But I wore my ornament proudly

You ask where I came from?

Ask Mr.Hunter

Stolen from Africa

Brought to Somewhere

Now you ask why I am here?

Ask Mr.Hunter?

But I wore my ornament proudly

ENTRY 1

THE SURVIVOR by Chris McDermott

Signs and symbols, so important,

Powerful, beyond belief.

Crescent, crosses, prayer shawls, ashes,

Give meaning, hope, in times of grief.

It was one day in late December,

Suzi rode to break her time,

She couldn’t stomach being slower,

To win for Him, that was divine.

‘Cos Suzi was a strong believer.

In Christ, for him, she did her best.

Pushing so hard upon those pedals,

Never stopping for a rest.

But in that second, in that moment,

The sports car made a sudden swerve,

He said he had to miss a rabbit,

To save its soul, life to preserve.

But in that so brief, tiny second,

The swerve became a sudden crash,

The bike, sweet Suzi pedalling harder,

Hit Eric’s car, an awful smash.

The ambulances, they came there rushing,

Sirens wailing through the mist.

Poor Suzi lying still, not moving,

Her watch lay, limply, just by her wrist.

But time still passed, as Suzi lay there,

In hospital, after her fall,

The doctors wondered, which religion,

Crescent, cross or prayer shawl?

Is this the ending of the story,

The parson blessing Suzi’s head,

While all about her wept so soundly,

A loved one, Suzi, now soon dead?

Would her own ashes soon be taken,

Placed inside an ornament.

As Suzi’s spirit, not forsaken,

Then left this Earth, to Heaven sent?

But Suzi fought back, did recover,

Again she raced, maintained her hope,

And won first prize, a proud gold medal,

Much more than just an ornament.

ENTRY 2

A FISHY TAIL TALE by Louise Welland

I want to tell a tale today, about the one that got away

It was way back when……in ’82, we had some house guests who were due

To visit, so we’d done a shop, drinks and freezer fully stocked

Mishka (cat) was being ignored whilst I scrubbed the bath and washed the floors

She looked hungrily at her empty plate, but I was busy, she’d have to wait

An hour away from arrival time, I popped to town to buy some wine

We’d already chilled the aperitif to sip with bourguignon - finest beef

Arriving home, pulled up outside, to find the front door open wide

A burglar had been, he’d wrecked the joint, we had so little, what was the point?

He must have been a hungry geezer, he’d even emptied out our freezer

And used our brand new wheely bin to stash his cache of goodies in

Our guests arrived, I made them toast, hardly now the perfect host ☹

I called the police who said they’d come, then asked my neighbour what he’d seen

he’d seen a van but paid no heed, I found this so hard to believe

He was a nosey, leery louse whose mission was to watch our house

Just days before he stirred up trouble, using techniques far from subtle

He’d told my husband with smile so smug; he’d seen me give a man a hug

My husband wasn’t too disgruntled, the ‘other man’ had been my uncle

I felt quite angry and upset to see him peer through twitching nets

Yet when it mattered most it seemed, he just ignored what he had seen

Husband was very tired that day, had worked a hundred miles away

Arriving home, he heard the news “I’m sorry love there is no food”

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips then left to go get fish and chips

The meal was plated as police arrived, hubby took the cops outside

To show how burglar had gained entry, they looked and listened most intently

They made some notes and wished us well “We’ll be in touch” they bade farewell

My husband then yelled ‘Oh my God’ as Mishka dragged his battered cod

Down garden path, to aid our misery, adding insult to stress and injury

We counted our losses and drowned our sorrows, “This won’t look so bad tomorrow”

A Rolex watch, a box of tools, two passports, and some precious jewels

Our food of course, a large tv; a quite successful stealing spree!

Now the sting in the tail wasn’t really the fish, that was stealthily stolen by the cat, from a dish

But the Insurance company refusing to pay, as I’d left the door unlocked that day

Looking back we find it funny, and wondered if he’d made much money

For the Chinese vase (that was fake Ming) that still had Grandma’s ashes in

ENTRY 3

GATSBY by Mike Lansdown

He told me I was beautiful

He told me I was sweet

He said that he’d look after me

…then swept me off my feet.

I was the talk of the town

The envy of them all

Who opened doors, and graced the floors,

Of party, dance, and ball.

Then no occasion was complete

Without me on his arm

And everyone that we would meet

Adored his wit, his charm.

Our faces were on every page

My eyes, my lips, my hair

The world could not get enough

Of this perfect, golden pair.

As spring turned into summer

And summer into fall

So winter’s winds were blowing

And love began to pall.

And as the seasons came and went

It was too plain to see

That I, the woman on his arm,

Was the cause of his ennui.

He told me I was beautiful

He told me I was sweet

He said that he’d looked after me

…then threw me on the street.

ENTRY 4

THE CHOICE by Helen Nicell

This my home of sixty years

Time to move on, realise my fears

My joints ache and my knees creak

The road ahead looks rather bleak

Shuffling with a walking frame

I cannot cope, such a shame

Every object on my sideboard

Memories that strike a chord

Souvenirs and birthday gifts

The china jugs and candlesticks

A Greek key fruitless bowl

Flamenco dancing Spanish doll

Blue and white Royal Wedgewood vases

Waterford crystal whiskey glasses

Things that can still bring me pleasure

Every piece a memory to treasure

Now it’s time for ‘Residential Care’

My own bedroom, a lounge to share

‘Space is limited, choose just one’

Says my matter-of-fact dear son

Many a moment of deep reflection

Staring at that strange collection

I pick up the brass photo frame

Whispering my late husband’s name

A wedding photo of John and me

Back in the snow of ‘63

The only thing I cannot lose

This is the one that I must choose

ENTRY 5

MOMENTS (An acrostic poem) by Andrea Neidle

The star atop a Christmas tree

Holds a special magic for me

Every time.

Our days

are

stepping

stones

Rituals we all share

Never thinking this might be the last

A forgotten lifetime in the past

Moments are like ornaments there for us to treasure

Every new day a precious gift

Not to be dismissed, wasted or forgotten

Try to live each day as if it is your last.

ENTRY 6

DECUS ET TUTAMEN by David Elliott

(AN ORNAMENT AND A SAFEGUARD)

Bite a sovereign, test it between your teeth

Confirm that it is really gilt beneath

Pounds, shillings and pennies

Decimalised in the seventies

Gold, silver, nickel plated copper, tin

On the obverse our Queen’s side-on chin

Arcade waterfalls and slots, gobble up change

Parking meters always raise rage

Shop girls in stores, snatch nickels and dimes from your hand

Woolworths replaced by the ubiquitous Poundland

Piggy banks store for a rainy day

Metal detectorists help find the way

For Time-Team archaeologists to date and display

Treasure trove hoards abandoned with dismay

Pirates and buccaneers’ fight

For doubloons and pieces of eight

Some people just stash them under their beds

Forgers and clippers hold on to your heads

Counterfeiting and trimming both a treasonable offence

Decus et Tutamen – glory and defence

My ornament - my safeguard - milled and etched

Standing on the shoulders of giants stamped around the edge

So Numismatists take care

You can’t exchange them, if your coins are square.

ENTRY 7

GRANNY'S MANTELPIECE by Liz Shaw

Nothing of value, much less of taste

The knick-knacks of life and memories of place

A small pottery boot encrusted with flowers

A wooden cased clock to tick off the hours

Joke ashtray with skeleton draped round the side

A plain photo frame of shy groom and bride

A screw of tobacco, ready rub on the pack

Pink plastic bobbles to hold ponytails back

A glass pot of collar studs, cufflinks and pins

And under it betting slips, for Grand National wins

A bronze letter rack of reminders and bills

A bottle (don’t touch) of Granddad’s heart pills

Postcards from Cleethorpes, a wedding invite

The charms and detritus of my grandmother’s life.

ENTRY 8

SHALL WE DANCE by Helen Nicell

My milky skin and delicate wrists

Are often admired from afar

The folds of my skirt, caught in the waltz

Buttercup yellow to match my hair

Taffeta and silk

Ringlets dripping on one shoulder

A slender foot ready for the beat

Waiting…

For my handsome gent to lead me

In a waltz around the floor

Alas it is not to be, for I am frozen now

Never to hear the strings of the orchestra

My eyes expectant, they will not age

My ethereal smile trapped

No experience of love nor marriage

Childbirth or death

I stand upon the cabinet

Forgotten over time

My skirt gathers dust, my skin yellows

Yet still I am ready for the dance to begin

Perpetually at the ball

The Coalport name bears witness

To the occasional nod,

‘She’s worth a bob or two’

They lift me up and turn me over

‘Emily is her name.’

Then place me back and walk away

Porcelain figures, no longer in fashion

I wish that I could close my eyes

Rest for a short while

But instead I’ll gather up my skirt

Ready for the waltz to start

Forever waiting for the words

‘Shall we dance?’

ENTRY 9

YOU DON'T KNOW ME ANYMORE by Helen Gordon

I can see ahead and far below

From this mantlepiece, where I’m on show.

My view is bold and clear

Other things are not too near.

I prefer my very own space,

I’m from a time of slower pace.

We liked to drink, mine was beer

But I drank too much my dear.

For many years I was admired

Now it seems I’ve nearly expired.

I was loved so much; washed and cleaned

A good life here, of such I dreamed.

But now I gather dust,

Along with Chopin’s bust.

Such is the lot of old ornaments

We don’t get many compliments.

Sitting here but never seen.

Dismissed with a shrug,

And I really want to scream

I’m your Toby Jug!

ENTRY 10

THE GLOBE by Ian Welland

I withdraw into the silence that is the ornamental globe,

For it is motionless and yet benign like a ghostly robe,

I can ask but one question, am I on the right road?

For I am falling, falling, into the gather of an English rose.

I call a name, a face, summoned from my past,

For I was there at the gate with a love vowed to last,

I saw in her eyes a reflection, a cast,

For there was a haunting from dawn to dusk.

I was mistaken to believe totally in love,

For a moment I held her hand in glove,

I foretold the light and flight of the dove,

For there it was, on the summer breeze above.

I wake to find the sun has gone,

For a time, I thought I could hear her song,

I called once more, but she was long gone,

Forever in eternity, forever and ever, we belong.

ENTRY 12

THE PEOPLE'S PRINCESS by Jan Rees

She was chosen for her beauty,

For her breeding, for her smile

No-one knew what she’d become

With confidence and style

Not staying in the background

A mother and a wife

But taking up the causes

Others shrank from in this life

Raising our awareness

Making headline news

Living in the limelight

In smart designer shoes

Bur fairy tales don’t always work

They went their separate ways

To follow different destinies

In the public gaze

She had the power to do such good

Not long upon the scene

But she will be remembered

For what she might have been

ENTRY 13

CANDLE by Judy Klimt

if I still had that candle

I threw into the sea,

I’d light it at this time of year

To honour you and me.

It was a slender candle,

With little flame or flare;

Don’t know when I first had the thought

To keep it by me there.

But sometime on our travels

And our adventures few,

That candle came to represent

The hopes I had of you.

And all the time I loved you,

The candle symbolized

The power that I would imprecate

Our bond to canonize.

And so, when we were parting,

Beside that distant bay -

I took our only candlelight,

And with this crude libation rite,

Cast all our love away.

ENTRY 14

COUNTING BLESSINGS by Sumi Watters

Leaves rustle and branches sway

A gentle wind whispers through the trees,

The wind chime plays its silvery tune

Nature’s gift with every breeze.

For when I hear the wind chime’s song

Be it day or in the night,

I take a moment to reflect

On all that is good and right.

I quiet my mind of painful regrets,

Fizzled dreams and unresolved feuds,

I remind myself that I am blessed

And fill my heart with gratitude.

I am grateful for …

the rising sun

to feel its warmth against my skin,

mine eyes that see

the air I breathe

my blood that flows within.

I am grateful to …

my family

who shower with me love,

those near and far

and those that are

watching from above.

I am thankful for …

second chances

each new day presents,

ideas to conceive

dreams to achieve

time to make amends.

The wind chime plays its silvery tune

When the wind blows through the trees,

I stop to count my blessings

Nature’s gift with every breeze.

ENTRY 15

THOMAS RICKMAN ET AL by Ian Welland

Thomas Rickman stood and stared,

Up at the carved Fleur de Lis declared,

Behold and wonder what we can see,

For classical architecture contains the key.

Matthew Holbeche - Bloxam said Gothic,

Not forgetting the familiarity of topic,

Converting all eyes to ecclesiastic,

Bellowing from the Regency dramatic.

Peter Nicholson had defined a way,

Mixing architecture to cast and betray,

Allowing for Chambers to describe in his tome,

A nod backwards to ancient Rome.

And Betjeman walked the street to say

Halt you wrecking ball and turn away,

For Bath is not a sack for us

The ornamental carving a pile of dust.

ENTRY 16

MY STATIC HEART by Helen Spisak

I have been on the same shelf for many years

I cannot even muster any salty sad tears

A dowdy lady lovingly cleans me once a week

I get pestered by insects - their bloody cheek!

I get to bathe in occasional rays of sunlight

But endure my fears through the dead of night.

Ever since the break-in, I've been depressed

Take me with you, was my immediate request

He had scanned my shelf with expectant eyes

Which turned to anger, as there was no prize

What a waste of a moonlit night he mumbled

My static heart nearly totally crumbled.

I get no peace from the big chiming clock

I used to get comments from strangers a lot

Like - 'What an unusual ornament you have'

'From my time abroad' said Dad.

I've had no visitors lately not even the cleaner

But wait what's happening…..

But yes, it couldn't be clearer…..

I was being assessed by a notable valuer

I'm worth two thousand pounds in parts of Asia

Oooh I'll finally be going homeward bound.

Turned out I'm in The Will

I've been left to the dowdy cleaner!

ENTRY 17

SHELF LIFE by Mike Lansdown

A quiet life is what he’s had.

Not a single word

Has prised apart those settled smiling lips.

The kitchen shelf:

Clutter of sand-timers, wild thyme, postcards from faraway, long-ago places

A perfect spot, for a silent spy,

From which to peep, and watch

The comings

And the goings

Of generations,

Old and new.

With still, dry eyes

By day, to watch, and weigh

And when the house takes to its bed

(and his oldest friend,

the sleepy staircase sentry,

at the strike of three

startles himself awake)

To sup darkly

Chunter, chuckle, and shake his tricorn’d head

At what folly has played out.

Now

When the house’s day has just begun

And touched by the first rays of the risen sun

He sighs,

Takes a long, deep, breath,

Adjusts his seat

And, patient,

Waits

For another day.

ENTRY 18

A CHANGE OF FORTUNE by Louise Welland

Can you tell me my fortune please?

Will I meet the man of my dreams?

Will my husband leave me soon?

To end this life of moody gloom.

"You stupid woman, give me that thing

I need to put it in the bin"

I throw it hard, it hits his head

He slumps to the ground

Beside the bed

The blood runs down magnolia walls

And runs across the floor, then pools

"Well you did ask" I laughed aloud

"I bet you wish you hadn't now"

My crystal ball from Rosie Lee

Time to have a cup of tea

ENTRY 19

DARK AGES by Kay Hall

The warrior stands proud -

Bedecked and bejewelled

In serpent-strewn spirals

Of garnet and gold

The poet tells stories

In paeans of praise -

Embroidered, embellished

In rhythm and rhyme

The craftsman sighs softly

As light fades to darkness -

Relaxes in sleep

Dreaming treasures untold

… and time turns …

Seasons follow seasons

Years follow years -

The poet’s words lost

The hero forgotten

While interred in the earth

His treasures sleep sound -

Patiently waiting

Return of the sun

… and time turns …

Soft brushes awaken

The delicate horde -

What marvels are these?

What skills, what precision!

… the age is reclaimed …

Dark Ages no more

POETRY COMPETITION - THE ORNAMENT

ENTRY 1

THE SURVIVOR by Chris McDermott

ENTRY 2

A FISHY TAIL TALE by Louise Welland

ENTRY 3

GATSBY by Mike Lansdown

ENTRY 4

THE CHOICE by Helen Nicell

ENTRY 5

MOMENTS (An acrostic poem) by Andrea Neidle

ENTRY 6

DECUS ET TUTAMEN by David Elliott

ENTRY 7

GRANNY'S MANTELPIECE by Liz Shaw

ENTRY 8

SHALL WE DANCE by Helen Nicell

ENTRY 9

YOU DON'T KNOW ME ANYMORE by Helen Gordon

ENTRY 10

THE GLOBE by Ian Welland

ENTRY 11

THE BRIDAL HEADBAND by Andrea Neidle

ENTRY 12

THE PEOPLE'S PRINCESS by Jan Rees

ENTRY 13

CANDLE by Judy Klimt

ENTRY 14

COUNTING BLESSINGS by Sumi Watters

ENTRY 15

THOMAS RICKMAN ET AL by Ian Welland

ENTRY 16

MY STATIC HEART by Helen Spisak

ENTRY 17

SHELF LIFE by Mike Lansdown

ENTRY 18

A CHANGE OF FORTUNE by Louise Welland

ENTRY 19

DARK AGES by Kay Hall