PoemsA selection of Poems Composed for the Schools’ Poetry Competition You Can Never Return, by Amy E. Murphy (winner of School’s Poetry Award) My Place, by Catriona O’Connor Times of Simplicity, by Shannonn Connolly The Swallow That Flew Away, by Shannon Connolly Seasons, by Catriona O’Connor My Place, by Amy E. Murphy. |
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You Can Never Return
Amy E. Murphy Are thoughts and dreams Mere rusty keys To a locked door? I search the dusty corners of my mind For a faded memory Which I attempt to grasp. But my desperate effort fails. The door stays locked. My rusty key has failed.
Bernard O’Donoghue, presenting Schools’ Poetry Award to Amy |
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My Place
Catriona O’Connor The place where memories are made Stories told and tempers frayed. Emotions such as love and care Are always what I feel when there. And never, ever in my life Has loneliness, anger or even strife Been a reason for dislike Of my place. There, laughter rings and smiles all round Bring joy to those who wear a frown. Great happiness is always found At my place.’ It’s the place where I will always be Always happy, always me. Whether snuggled up all night Or by the fire burning bright I will always be there In my place. |
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Times of Simplicity (First Draft, unedited) Shannon Connolly I stared out the window and I walked out the gate Yes, I have a lot on my plate I sit here remembering things I’ve left behind Remembering those things I’ve locked up inside And it’s easier than you’d think to open up the door Open it to the memories from before Open it to happiness and confusion To things undefined To things lost inside my mind Things from my childhood Things from my past Things that you knew would never last Times of simplicity So hard to find Once, I thought I’d lost them inside |
| The Swallow That Flew Away
(First Draft, unedited)
Shannon Connolly The bird awoke with the start of spring With the dew and Pretty things And yet winter still seemed To blow and with it harsh, winter snow Soon it passed and spring moved on It was as if a new day dawned The grass happily scented air Gardeners here and surfers there The bird flew over many a house And caught sight of the blossoming flow’rs But soon the happiness Came and went It startled the poor bird Who didn’t know what it meant With harsh winds and dying flowers The little bird thought What madness is here? With sadness and depressive showers? The bird left and did not return Until the sadness left and spring returned. |
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Seasons
Catriona O’Connor The day dawns with The arrival of a new spring. With it comes budding flowers And birds that like to sing. The countryside is filled with The bleats of lambs and sheep. The sun shines through the window, And wakes us from our sleep. This is quickly followed by A bright and sticky summer, When ice cream melts and lazy days Grow hotter and much longer. When there’s the sizzle of the meat As it’s placed upon the grill, And the acrid stench of charcoal Entices us to eat our fill. Next it is autumn’s turn To take its yearly spot, As the days grow ever shorter And the sun’s no longer hot. The wind begins to quicken And the trees begin to sway, The crinkled leaves do rustle As they fall along the way. Finally the winter arrives The year draws to a close, The snow and hail begin to fall And the smell of smoke fills our nose. Until we arrive again To the dawn of a new day, When spring returns once more And a new year gets on its way. |
| My Place
Amy E. Murphy My place is not a house, My place is not a home It’s not a secret hideout Where others dare to roam. My place is in those forgiving eyes And wild and flowing mane It’s in that welcoming whinny That forever stays the same. My place is in the saddle When the huntsman calls the chase My place is in the stable When he’s ill and starts to pace. My place is in the fields On a hot summer’s day My place is in the barn When he’s looking for his hay. My place is in the heart Of my very noble steed. My place is there with him And his place is here with me. |
