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1st PLACE:
war musket grasses (Bay of Fundy)
Donna Allard
I see no soldier’s uniform as I walk along these shores
but I do see the red blood cliffs and musket grasses
and dry puzzle clay remnants but I have yet put all the
pieces together to see the whole picture
when the English and French bore arms for this Bay
a little known fact told me by a local a few weeks ago
he said to follow the water trails or streams
with one of those magnetic things and see what the
past will bring forward, he said many have found muskets
beneath the red clay graves
instead I prefer to walk, feel the clay between my toes
get my jeans red with the dye so I can at least feel some
connection with the soldiers who walked these trails
now cattle and a few horses roam here in the Fundy sun
safe and secure they keep a watchful eye on me
and I wonder if the stories were ever passed down to their
newborn, I can’t believe stories are for humans only,
if you look closely at domestic animals and wildlife
you can sense a presence, a feeling, that maybe their memories
passed down through the ages are holding the last unwritten entry
of lost lives along these grassy shores and red cliffs
well I must get back, the sun is setting and I fear the ghosts
may not like my curious nature as I walk through this
unmarked graveyard
Judges Comment: To me this was the outstanding submission to the
contest. The highest compliment I can pay it is "Purdyesque"! I felt
engaged in the poet's ramble among relics on a battlefield from
Canada's past. The language is casual but poetic - the poet isn't
"trying too hard" to impress - & ironically this makes their observations
stronger & more believable. The casual self-deprecation of the short
final stanza - "I fear the ghosts may not like my curious nature" -
added a welcome humorous touch to this stroll on the old Canadian
battlefield. EXCELLENT!
war musket grasses (Bay of Fundy)
Donna Allard
I see no soldier’s uniform as I walk along these shores
but I do see the red blood cliffs and musket grasses
and dry puzzle clay remnants but I have yet put all the
pieces together to see the whole picture
when the English and French bore arms for this Bay
a little known fact told me by a local a few weeks ago
he said to follow the water trails or streams
with one of those magnetic things and see what the
past will bring forward, he said many have found muskets
beneath the red clay graves
instead I prefer to walk, feel the clay between my toes
get my jeans red with the dye so I can at least feel some
connection with the soldiers who walked these trails
now cattle and a few horses roam here in the Fundy sun
safe and secure they keep a watchful eye on me
and I wonder if the stories were ever passed down to their
newborn, I can’t believe stories are for humans only,
if you look closely at domestic animals and wildlife
you can sense a presence, a feeling, that maybe their memories
passed down through the ages are holding the last unwritten entry
of lost lives along these grassy shores and red cliffs
well I must get back, the sun is setting and I fear the ghosts
may not like my curious nature as I walk through this
unmarked graveyard
Judges Comment: To me this was the outstanding submission to the
contest. The highest compliment I can pay it is "Purdyesque"! I felt
engaged in the poet's ramble among relics on a battlefield from
Canada's past. The language is casual but poetic - the poet isn't
"trying too hard" to impress - & ironically this makes their observations
stronger & more believable. The casual self-deprecation of the short
final stanza - "I fear the ghosts may not like my curious nature" -
added a welcome humorous touch to this stroll on the old Canadian
battlefield. EXCELLENT!
2nd PLACE:
Julio’s Pencil
Debbie Okun Hill
at my desk I hear you scratching
like a rodent trapped
between two walls, paper thin
blackboard dust, chalk ghost
telepathic cry from foreign land
loose leaf, your whispers escaping
through windows without glass
thin shudders shuttering
rusty screens screaming
in Monte Bonito
your home near Santiago
a place where tourists
fly in, pass by
ignore your hunger
ignore your pain
you were my daughter’s brother
adopted, fostered
skin shadowed dark
your real mother Maria
still a student
your father somewhere
drifting in heat, humidity
we sent you cheques
to pay for school
we wrote you letters
and slipped in gifts
we waited, waited, waited
for your reply in Spanish but
you never used your pencil
they broke it,
left you without words
threw the lead of war
back in my face
used your eraser
like your father did
to whip you out
Judges Comment:
(finally something political)
Julio’s Pencil
Debbie Okun Hill
at my desk I hear you scratching
like a rodent trapped
between two walls, paper thin
blackboard dust, chalk ghost
telepathic cry from foreign land
loose leaf, your whispers escaping
through windows without glass
thin shudders shuttering
rusty screens screaming
in Monte Bonito
your home near Santiago
a place where tourists
fly in, pass by
ignore your hunger
ignore your pain
you were my daughter’s brother
adopted, fostered
skin shadowed dark
your real mother Maria
still a student
your father somewhere
drifting in heat, humidity
we sent you cheques
to pay for school
we wrote you letters
and slipped in gifts
we waited, waited, waited
for your reply in Spanish but
you never used your pencil
they broke it,
left you without words
threw the lead of war
back in my face
used your eraser
like your father did
to whip you out
Judges Comment:
(finally something political)
3rd PLACE:
Ravens’ Cry
Tribute to Canada’s Peoples Poet Milton Acorn
Donna Allard
there was a man named Acorn who was adored by a few
now a written outcast by a tittered latent Isle
an indigo literary vision of ol’ Charlottetown’s Victorian Row
I was young, too young to know,
why a man chose a life so wretched in most people’s eyes
cornered once during a walk, he looked me eye to eye,
but I still could not see…
this thirst for knowledge he wished to share with me
but thanks to people, unlike me who judged and theorized,
saw within those eyes and
let it not be forgotten…
a certain Acorn had fallen from a Red Oak Tree
picking up from its earthy base a privileged wisdom
many will never see…
passing an indigo Raven cry’s
a silent tears journey rain bowed
upon silken blue Island sky’s
Judges Comment: As a longtime friend & acolyte of Milton Acorn, I couldn't resist including a poem subtitled
"Tribute to Canada's Peoples Poet" ... The poem is short enough to almost qualify as one of Acorn's
creations, a Jack pine sonnet. The language is clean but creative ("a tittered latent Isle" is a great neologism &
accurate description of Prince Edward Island). Milton visits my friends & me often in his crow & raven
incarnations, and I'm pleased to see his memory kept alive and vital in the CPA!
Ravens’ Cry
Tribute to Canada’s Peoples Poet Milton Acorn
Donna Allard
there was a man named Acorn who was adored by a few
now a written outcast by a tittered latent Isle
an indigo literary vision of ol’ Charlottetown’s Victorian Row
I was young, too young to know,
why a man chose a life so wretched in most people’s eyes
cornered once during a walk, he looked me eye to eye,
but I still could not see…
this thirst for knowledge he wished to share with me
but thanks to people, unlike me who judged and theorized,
saw within those eyes and
let it not be forgotten…
a certain Acorn had fallen from a Red Oak Tree
picking up from its earthy base a privileged wisdom
many will never see…
passing an indigo Raven cry’s
a silent tears journey rain bowed
upon silken blue Island sky’s
Judges Comment: As a longtime friend & acolyte of Milton Acorn, I couldn't resist including a poem subtitled
"Tribute to Canada's Peoples Poet" ... The poem is short enough to almost qualify as one of Acorn's
creations, a Jack pine sonnet. The language is clean but creative ("a tittered latent Isle" is a great neologism &
accurate description of Prince Edward Island). Milton visits my friends & me often in his crow & raven
incarnations, and I'm pleased to see his memory kept alive and vital in the CPA!
Honourable Mention’s:
#1: "Starfire" Frank Threlkeld
Judges Comment: Loved this poem, & wrote my own version of it about a quarter century ago - I believe in
another life I was an Arcturean : ) It is so difficult to write a truly cosmic poem without sounding cliched, & in
my opinion this poet accomplishes this. The poet's knowledge of the cosmos is appealing, & altho the
language is sometimes a bit high blown, with "cerulean-cold" and "saffron-tinged", in this case these colourful
descriptions are required, & they work! A beautiful piece which makes me want to play the Stones' "Their
Satanic Majesties Request" over & over. The rhyme scheme is also done well, & it adds to the sense of
macrocosmic order, just as the fractal design of a seashell replicates intergalactic star swirls.
#2: “On The Evening News” Peggy Fletcher
#3: "Pinned by Your Image on the Web" Debbie Okun Hill
#4: "Whatever We Believe In" K.V. Skene
#5: "Chestnuts At Greenwich" Marion Beck
#6: “And Death Does What It Can” K.V. Skene
#7: “Watching Fireworks over the Atlantic Ocean Looking East on New
Year’s Eve from the Ninth Floor Balcony of a Tall Building John B. Lee
#8: “Insomniac” K.V. Skene
#9: “In Spite of your Confusion” Linda Lee Crosfield
#10: “Solar Collectors At Marieval” Marion Beck
#1: "Starfire" Frank Threlkeld
Judges Comment: Loved this poem, & wrote my own version of it about a quarter century ago - I believe in
another life I was an Arcturean : ) It is so difficult to write a truly cosmic poem without sounding cliched, & in
my opinion this poet accomplishes this. The poet's knowledge of the cosmos is appealing, & altho the
language is sometimes a bit high blown, with "cerulean-cold" and "saffron-tinged", in this case these colourful
descriptions are required, & they work! A beautiful piece which makes me want to play the Stones' "Their
Satanic Majesties Request" over & over. The rhyme scheme is also done well, & it adds to the sense of
macrocosmic order, just as the fractal design of a seashell replicates intergalactic star swirls.
#2: “On The Evening News” Peggy Fletcher
#3: "Pinned by Your Image on the Web" Debbie Okun Hill
#4: "Whatever We Believe In" K.V. Skene
#5: "Chestnuts At Greenwich" Marion Beck
#6: “And Death Does What It Can” K.V. Skene
#7: “Watching Fireworks over the Atlantic Ocean Looking East on New
Year’s Eve from the Ninth Floor Balcony of a Tall Building John B. Lee
#8: “Insomniac” K.V. Skene
#9: “In Spite of your Confusion” Linda Lee Crosfield
#10: “Solar Collectors At Marieval” Marion Beck
| REASONS to read poetry |
| Association Canadiennede la Poesie |
| Poetry ContestWinners 2006 |
