Thank you to everyone who took part and voted in the above themed poetry competition.  As usual, more people were interested in reading and writing than voting but nonetheless, we have a very clear winner! 

“It was outstanding, the first one out of the traps, and I felt from the outset it would be hard to beat. Gritty in the face of grief, resilience in bereavement, marvellous language.”

“Longing, loss and lists – three great elements of poetry moulded seamlessly together and leading to a heart-breaking conclusion.”

This is how two voters described the winning entry and I really couldn’t have put it any better myself.  Alison Johnson’s ‘Tough Old Boots’ took you by the heart strings and carried you along to that incredibly powerful ending.  I love poetry that engages me emotionally and Alison’s did that in buckets – it did so with style – avoiding sentimentality or morbidity - pure class, I thought.

Runner up was ‘Chocolate Shoes’ by Ann Foxglove, a poem noted for the beautiful voice and performance on the audio as much as its delightful crafting.  To quote one voter:-

“An imaginative and original piece with a warm erotic flavour – much added to by the audio – and a voice of - melting chocolate!"

Whilst I have the opportunity, I would like to share just a few thoughts from those who voted regarding the quality of poetry submitted. 

Cynthia’s poem Caribbean was praised for its ‘sheer sexy warmth’, Winston’s for its mystery, and Cate’s for its “puddle-jumping, leaf-kicking celebration of rule-breaking and acting on instinct”

It was great to see new member C Richard Miles take part in the competition and his poem was appreciated by a good number of voters.

 “Stilettotterer by C Richard Miles gets my vote.  I loved the descriptions - you could see the woman, the whole of her despite it really only being her legs and gait that were described.  I loved the way the animal pictures were brought in, right from foxtrot through to elephant.”

Another described enjoying his poem for the “object lesson in fashion as suffering - and the sacrifice of dignity”

When I chose the theme for the competition, I did hope that we would see a higher quota of light hearted poems, just to prove that us poets can rise above our reputation and have fun.  I wasn’t disappointed - thanks to Dave Carr, John Coopey, Dave Bradley and Banksy.  They proved that though large feet can lead to unrealistic expectations in other areas of life, when it comes to humour, they are bang on! 

Banksy’s ‘Furry Godmother’ was praised for “its “right in your face” erotica!”

Whilst one voter said this of Coopey’s offering ;-)

John Coopey  - Penicure/ Piggies was the best, his pervy voice was a scream haha

I feel I should give Larisa Rzhepishevska an honourable mention for the skill with which she writes in a foreign language.  I think you would have to be a linguist to appreciate the difficulties of doing this. Larisa’s poetry is strong and feisty with unusual ideas.  What a shame she isn’t on the performance scene – I’ve a feeling she’d shake us all up!

If I haven’t mentioned you, please don’t be offended – other people probably have.  I have picked out the more memorable comments from those votes that were sent to me.  None of these themed competitions would work if we didn’t have people contributing and letting us into their very individual thought processes.  The diversity of what we produce never ceases to amaze me!

I’ll end with congratulating Alison on her winning entry.  The poem is printed below for all who would like to have a second read. Xx

 

TOUGH OLD BOOTS

The costly forestry boots our kid insisted

Warmed your twisted feet in the afterlife

Didn’t worry me in the slightest;

For you it was never about the price.

 

It wasn’t your trainers which strained my heart,

Or the leather uppers kicking me in the guts,

not the steel toe caps breaking through healed scars.

Or even rubber wellies wading through the tears.

 

No slippered reminder of evening hours,

No sandals citing slipped away summers

No flimsy plimsolls linger to tease me,

Frivolous footwear was never your thing.

 

Parting with the wrinkled fur lined riggers

feeling they would never again figure

in future footsteps left no aching

sole felt sore as I saw them departing.

 

It’s knowing the old stiff soled walking boots,

Laces flattened under hooks, tongue lolling;

Still in the tread - dried dirt from lakeside routes

… will not walk again over cold Helvellyn.