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Old Possum,
illustrated by Axel Scheffler |
Old Possum’s Children’s Poetry Competition 2009
On the theme of ‘Heroes and Heroines’ for children aged 7-11 years Linking with the ‘Heroes and Heroines’ theme of National Poetry Day 2009
We are delighted to reproduce the winning poems from the International Learners categories below.
7-8 Year Old Age Group
1st Prize
Hero in the Moon
The sky is blue, the breeze off the sea
Is fresh. The cars pass in all colours
And in the moon there is you
With all my hopes.
By Leticia Hernández Navarro, aged 8, from Alhama de Granada, Spain
2nd Prize
A Fireman
There was Ola and Kasia.
Ola was often visiting Kasia.
Once Kasia came to Ola.
Kasia laughed looking at burned cloth.
Then Ola’s Mom said:
Once when Ola had 2 years
We were in a block.
Everything was on fire
Everybody was running out.
Ola stayed.
Then came a fireman.
He wrapped Ola in his coat.
A board fell on him
As he went out.
He was taken to the hospital.
There he died.
But Ola was safe.
By Helena Jelenska, aged 7, from Warsaw, Poland
3rd Prize
Nana
On my Grandma’s farm, I hear the needle touching the fabric on the sewing machine.
On my Grandma’s farm, I see tall trees and barns.
On my Grandma’s farm, I taste freshly canned jam: strawberry, blueberry or plum.
On my Grandma’s farm, I sink my fingers into the cookie dough we roll out together.
On my Grandma’s farm, I smell our cookies baking in the oven.
By Morgan Rich, aged 8, from Doha, Qatar
Highly Commended
Treasure Map
One day I went out and I saw my mum.
She told me that she’d found a chest.
I asked her to show me the contents of the chest
and she held out an old, grey sheet.
Oh, how this scroll looked like a treasure map,
with plotted tracks, rocks and a sunken ship,
with a cross, marking place, where a treasure lay,
on the island, which name sounded strange to me.
Hey, Mum, we must start for Green Mountain’s Peaks,
where rivers are blue, and the air is fresh.
We’ll burrow a hole in firm rocky ground,
to pull out the jewels that lie in it.
(Inspired by Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson; my hero is Jim Hawkins)
By Carnevale Rachele, aged 8, from Rome, Italy
9-11 Year Old Age Group
1st Prize
Sweeping Sound
Sweep, sweep, sweeping sound,
On the floor by the door.
Winter comes.
I come home to eat hot soup
And he, without lunch,
In the winter that gleams
The snow he cleans.
It’s summer.
It is hot like in a pot.
Vacation time starts now,
But how he Mr Sweeper sweeps!
All days, throughout long holidays,
Every day he says to me,
“Hello, great day I say.”
He is a hero and no-one sees
That he is one.
By Maria Jelenska, aged 11, from Warsaw, Poland
2nd Prize
Grandmother
My hero is my grandmother,
Taken to Siberia
Without her mum and dad.
She went with her grandmother and granddad.
It took two weeks
Freezing
Wolves and bears in the forest.
The only thing to eat
Frozen potatoes
Dug from fields.
She walked seven kilometres to school
Picked fl owers and collected nuts to sell
To pay for books.
Twelve years in Siberia
Then returned to Ukraine.
All people in Siberia at that time
Are heroes.
By Daryna Pospolitak, aged 9, from Kiev, Ukraine
3rd Prize
Einstein
Einstein, Einstein
You have the brightest mind
You are of the greatest men
In the world.
You look like crazy
But you are a genius
You look old
But you have a brilliant mind.
Your eyes are so clever
Your theory is so perfect.
You are the greatest scientist
Einstein, oh Einstein.
Your hair is like a bird’s nest
You smile like a clown
I would like so much
To be like you
When I grow up
But it’s so difficult, so difficult!
You are a magician of science
Give us your light.
By Konstandinos Vorvis, aged 9, from Arsakeio Primary School, Greece
Highly Commended
My Beloved Teacher – Ms K
My teacher, my heroine,
You are very gorgeous as
A blooming spring flower,
Polite as a sheep and
Helpful and caring as a grandmother.
What a powerful person who cares
About everybody!
You shape us for tomorrow’s
Future. Shape us with a rare,
Rapier of your rapid, “Where is my
Home-work” and “You can do better
Than this.” How lucky we are
To have such a nice and caring
Person!
My teacher, my heroine, you are
As strong as a ferry, a ferry
Which has the strength to load
More things, and you too have
The strength to load these things.
Like being our nurse, our lawyer, our
Entertainer. Voice so sweet like piped
Music, music that always makes us
Merry, music with the power to
Make us rise and shine.
By Onneetse Nthebolang, aged 11, from Gaborone, Botswana
The Burial
Brave soldiers were they,
In their coffins they lay.
Garlands of flowers covered them,
A few know their name.
Their families bitterly cry,
As they bid their final goodbye.
The commander hides a frown,
When the coffins are put down,
To see the young soldiers dead,
Lying on their flower bedecked bed.
The bugles blare,
Strangers stare.
Over with the burial,
Who will remember their laurels?
Forgotten soon are their glories.
These heroes leave an unfinished story.
By Sagnik Bhattacharya, aged 9, from Kolkata, India
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