CREATIVE WRITING 

WEEK 3. WINNERS 

We are delighted with the entries this week and the quality of the submissions. 

Here are our winners for week 3:

 

CATEGORY 1: Previously Published Writers:

This week's winner is Damien Carroll with

"You Sold Me a Pup"

You sold me a Pup

Return                           

                                     to me 

my golden voice,

my flawless skin,

my dancing legs 

that graced the halls.

 

Return                                                             

                                     to me  

my childhood days,

the friends I've lost.

their names erased,

like broken dolls.

 

Return                           

                                     to me 

my positive view 

of journeyed time

from birth to death.

 

Return                            

                                     to me 

my gentle heart,

my precious mind,

that withers, agonises,

years before 

my final breath.

 

Life,                                you are a misnomer,

you are that lover 

whose gaze remains 

on younger brides.

 

Life,                             you are a fraud,

you stayed on the beach

while I went out with the freezing tides.


Life,                                your singular focus

the spring of youth.

no real interest 

in the winter lives 

of declining fruit. 

 

Life,                                 I remember,

 I remember the years I was 

so in love with you.

 

Life,                             you are 

the Great Deceiver  

 

                                          *****************

               

CATEGORY 2:  Unpublished writers

Our winner is Niamh Donnellan with a short story

"Reflection"

Reflection

 

The morning sun warms my face as I step out into the day.  The fresh air tastes of spring.  I pull my hair into a tight ponytail and begin.

 

Often, I don’t pay attention on a run. Only flashes of the passing scenery break through to my conscious mind as my unconscious sorts and files and analyses life outside the run.  Focused on only my breathing, my heartbeat, putting one leg in front of the other, I don’t always notice the world happening around me. 

 

Sunday mornings are different. The long, slow run. My favourite time of the week and today I really am in it for the long haul. Sixteen miles, part of my training for a fast approaching Summer marathon. This would be steady and unhurried. Plenty of time to stop and smell the roses, metaphorically speaking. I don’t plan to pause along the way.

 

My route takes me down winding country roads, grass growing along the centre, stone walls on either side. Through rusty gates I see a cow with a crumpled horn in a field, her calf nestled against her looking for milk.  Sheep shelter under a blackthorn tree, one black lamb stands out amongst the white.

 

I passed through a deserted village. Empty cars line up outside the church.  The faint sound of a choir floats out the doors.  A solitary man sits on a bench reading the newspaper, waiting.  A welcome sign sat in a neat flowerbed by the side of the road, community pride marred somewhat by a dead fox lying in the daffodils.  

 

Towards the end of my run I come upon a calm lake surrounded by rushes.  A heron stands motionless in the still water, his reflection looking skywards mirroring his solemn vigil.  Birds sing in the bushes and my heart soars at the beauty of it all.  

                                          *******************

CATEGORY 3:  Young writers

This week's winner is Klaudia Wadecka who composed the poem "My Black Rose" in her second language. 

My Black Rose 

I intend to observe the ornate ocean that silently flows,

Under a Heavenly carpet of blossomed beauty is shows.

The magnificent sceneries of angelic wind that froze,

Like these negative emotions embodied in my black rose. 

I extracted this black rose from the depths that I chose,

During the blackout of glee and sun’s motionless pose.

The sun on my sky was enclosed by black dominoes,

Of staggering shadows casting gloom onto my ideal rose. 

As black as heart’s forlorn, my interpretation of love, I suppose,

Drastic and deranged vision I do not want to expose.

I praised my black rose for its shades and did not oppose,

For it to enter my heart and blend in with the remains of red rose.

 

I recruit my black rose from within myself as the ocean slows,

Mesmerized by its dark essence as my senses blow.

I drop it lightly into this black pool of unrequited love,

Go with the flow, maybe one day you will find your true love. 

                                                  ****************

Congratulations to all the winners of our Week 3 Creative Writing competition.  You will be receiving a €50 One4all voucher and a book voucher from our partner, Books on the Green, Sandymount. 

Week 4 of our Creative Writing competition is now open. Please see details for our competition here. 

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