Poems
A 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.
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
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.
(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
(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.
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.
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.
