Canford House Poetry Competition 2023 winners

House Poetry Competition 2023 WINNERS

Poems on the World Poetry Day 2023 Theme of ‘Refuge’ Poems celebrating Black Women in History Whole House poems celebrating ‘Our Voice’

Refuge - 1st Place In the quiet realm of paper and ink, Between covers and bindings, beginnings and endings Words stretches ardurously into flesh and bones Together they shout, murmur or moan They're shelters from the world's relentless storm, Each page a haven where my soul can speak, They're sanctuaries from life's painful norm.

Every character an embrace to set me free It can't protect me from being heard, felt or seen But it let me forget to listen, feel and see Chit chat chit chat I hide from them Tick tock tick tock I hide from me From lightning to judge my wrongs From cliffs that I'm forced to leap From approaching breaths of death That will devour my happiness and agony In woven stories, I find my wing I fly to distant land and vast blue sea I experience different lives My mind strengthens, my heart beats Every story Makes me into a thousand me So I have found my retreat When it rains inside When I'm about to bleed When I have to smile but I'm angry I have a place to be

Sarah Zhao (U6) Marriotts

Refuge - Joint 2nd Place

8 Minutes The time was 12:06 when I got home from being out with my friends.

I needed to finish my maths homework, As I opened my book the dread of maths changed my state of mind.

My pencil illustrating my workings, with numerous questions that seemed to never end.

I decided to play some music.

The sky was clear, sun rays beaming through my bedroom window shining on to my maths book only highlighting the number of questions I needed to complete.

Music played in the background, a slight humming escaping my lips.

Finally, the end of my maths homework arrived, and I had time to watch my favourite show on Netflix.

All that stress of maths disappeared and my refuge of the TV was here.

Suddenly I heard a slight whistle coming out of my window.

I paused the show and got up to see what had happened.

Boom.

A void of blank noise consumed my mind.

Gunshots, screaming, rapid-fire, shouting, all filled my head in a matter of seconds.

My mum came rushing in, grabbing me from the freeze of fear I was trapped in.

I trudged through the cloud of dust and smoke that submerged my house.

As I clambered for the door, which was barely still intact, I was presented with only what I had seen on television.

War. The rays of sunshine turned into rays of bullets darting around me.

I had no clue what was going on, as my mind went blank my body knew what to do.

My mum and I ran for shelter, anything to save us from the horror that was occurring before me.

We ran, we needed something to save us, something to help us.

Houses were now walls with no indication of what they had been before.

People were running too, just like us.

But what from? My mind was full of questions which I had no answers too, but all I knew is that refuge was the one thing I needed most.

My mum and I found an empty back garden with a dismantled shed, waiting for us, calling us as if it knew what we were looking for.

The shed was our best hope.

As I crawled in, I felt safe, the noise of conflict was blocked out from the crying and weeping exiting my mum and the smoke and dust entering my lungs as I grasped for my breath, I squinted my eyes trying to make out the time on my watch, to only see the numbers 12:14 8 minutes was all it took to change my life forever.

Oscar Gregory (Sh) Wimborne

Refuge - Joint 2nd Place A storm was coming it was plain to see It must be true it was on the BBC If reports were trustworthy and were true The world would end by half past two!

Thoughts ran through my mind at the double I cried ‘Lord help me I’m in SO much trouble.’

I’m living in Apocalypse Now I want to live, please show me how.

A shelter was needed, a refuge from the blast Until such time when it had past.

I frantically built; nails and wood galore.

My DT skills coming to the fore.

I ran for shelter in my make shift loo.

Prostrate on the floor clinging like glue.

The planks, tin, nails and feeble ties Rattled and shook, my life passed by my eyes

My refuge was now complete In an hour and a half that’s quite a feat!

Stepping back to admire my work with glee I’m afraid it looked like a W. C.

The storm passed

Doubts arose in my troubled mind Could a rickerty dunny save mankind?

What would be left for all of posterity.

After a force 12 Gale full ferocity?

Lifting my head from the turf I was gripping, Only to realise something was missing.

My wooden refuge had been blown away.

A stronger shelter had saved the day.

So dear fellows, let me regale, What we should learn from my little tale: Never trust a wooden dunny as your saviour When the world is in such mortal danger!

Toby Bromiley (Sh) Court

Refuge - 3rd Place My Refuge In the pages I am safe.

The women woven from words welcome me in a warm embrace Their lives let me drown out my own I lose myself in their world Deep forests and elite schools Magic systems and mystical beings A set of people that I can find refuge with Their happy endings provide a balm for my unfinished one I don’t have to focus on writing myself a future or a finale When I get to read theirs.

Their passion for existing lets me find mine I allow myself to get lost in the forest of pages Found family give me faith to find my own They hold my hand in tough times A refuge, a shelter from the storm.

Jasmine De La Haye (U6) Salisbury

Black Women - 1st Place The celebration of happiness, the appreciation of desperation, the final declaration, Black women Are not alone.

Through posters in colourful array, Through the creation of motivation from figures who rise out of the clay, Black women Are not alone.

When speeches from politicians, Meet the voices of indecision, As tides turn away, One woman wishes to stay, The black woman Is not alone.

One race, One colour, One love, One mother, The black women Are not alone.

Lara Crorie (U6) Lancaster

Black Women - 2nd Place

One silly little bus, One determined strong woman, She sat where others were too afraid, And stood up to the oppressors, Changing the world forever, Maybe not a silly little bus, Definitely a determined strong woman.

Janae Ng and Bee Andrews (U6) De Lacy

Black Women - 3rd Place In bygone days of the great middle land, In boundless seas of the sun-baked sand, In small round huts her first kin did arrive, In starlit night did they all seem to jive.

Till the invaders shattered the rhythm of life, Enslaved them all in malefic strife.

Generations after, When black and white got closer, When relationships were just about to get better...

Barrages of words beat down on her, Enraged her with just a simple slur, Yet never once did she yield.

When strangers snuffed out their cigars on her, And savoured her reaction like a connoisseur, She did not yield.

Observing the light at the tunnel’s end, She knew she would have to rend, Wave after wave of abuse, Pile upon pile of excuse, And not recuse, Till the day black and white finally had a truce.

“Equal at last” she thought, Until one day she was taught, The bias she had to face, Despite her shared biological race, Was all because of our selfishness.

Ethan Tsang (U6) School House

Black Women - Runner Up let’s celebrate all black women their strengths shine though with all that they’ve been through we have no clue let’s celebrate all black women and how they inspire they only want equality that’s all they desire Let’s celebrate all black women they voices are a powerful sound speaking truths and breaking grounds let’s celebrate all black women and fight for their freedom raise your voices and make sure everyone can hear them let’s celebrate all black women that’s all we ask speak out be proud let’s this love last

Will Bayer (5th) Lancaster

Your Voice - 1st Place Lancaster House Our Voice (containing a line / memory from each member of the House) Through the glorious sunrise and the first bus ride to school, The bake-off against the girls houses which was really cool, From fun days in lodge and trips to the tuck shop, To making toast in the kitchen and getting marmite off the countertop, To each rugby game and sprinting to the finish, Each lesson of the day with our favourite clearly being English, Playing the floor is lava and singing together in the house song, Climbing across the assault course and competing in ping pong, Our first year of Canford is already jampacked with memories As we go up the school, we hope that we treasure these. ………………………………………..

Under the torchlight of house music this year, Now we are no longer shells there is nothing to fear, From sneaking up on the NCOs on enterprise day, The duet in house charity concert blew everyone away, Acting in shows and Christmas pantomimes, Wandering the school in the beautiful evening time, Putting up tents and running through the pouring rain, The feeling of winning , there’s nothing quite the same, The ball leaves the boot, Canford roar, Sherbourne despair, The cruel art of sport is never really fair, Two years done and we are ready for more, What might come, we’re not sure. ……………………………………………….

We’re getting older, I’ve still lost my folder, Having made it to our third year there’s a lot to remember, That time we played house hockey last November, The bus journey has become long and winding, There’s plenty still left to do, the green light of Lancaster remains shining, From the teamwork of house sport like tennis and netball, To the unity of house charity concert which is always event full.

The whistle of the shuttlecock through the air, And the calm river flowing everywhere, We now begin to realise the 6th form is near.

The beginning of sixth form is daunting, New a-level subjects and folder sorting, Rowing in the misty afternoon, Takes our minds off the stress of what’s happening soon, Football at breaktime on the sunken lawn, Waking up on ten tors after dawn, Playing table tennis at lunch in Charworth, Free periods spent watching Planet Earth, All the while spending time with friends, No matter what they do our friendship never ends. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It’s here our final year, As we reflect everything feels so near, Universities just around the corner, Each house event in which we were a performer, Gooey marshmallows by the fire on survival Painting each other green and thrashing the other rivals, Mud caked shoes after climbing tumbling hills, Playing board games outside and showing off our skills, Having winter evening hot chocolates, And running to the tree as water falls in droplets, When the camera pans to the fountains splash, House film a success and past us in a flash, Icing the gingerbread house and exploring the kitchen, House entertainment when each would pitch in, The final bow from each play holding hands, Playing games of pool and lunch plans, Shoving our friends into the water, The waterpark is always slaughter, Each week as Mr Ives says happy fish and chip Friday, We think to ourselves what a cliché, However despite that deep down inside, It’s a pleasure to hear ‘LOL’ as you’re passing by, We’ve felt like one big family throughout our time, And we’re grateful of sharing memories even if you’ve made us rhyme.

There’s so much left to say about what we have done, At the end of the day we can promise Canford’s fun!

Your Voice - Joint 2nd Place Court House I. A voice Here the plants and trees and the bees all roam free That’s the place they want to be But now they stifle the voice of the ocean’s roar, The cry of the wind is declared against the law.

The babble of the brook - its voice forbidden And the sound of the clocks must now be hidden.

II. Silencing All my ideas die in silence: Little murmurs in the background, Stranded alone and helpless, With no one to project them.

Whenever I try to speak, Their shutters fall around me So now all I can do Is stand there in silence.

III. Voicelessness Hollow, hushed, a husk of hidden hymns of heart-drawn sentiment.

Would that words sing forth in glorious splendour from my lungs, let me be the fountain in the morning light, from which water, pure, simple, taintless, captures the glowing, golden spirit of the sun through airborne grace.

Why then do they fly as folly from my mouth like flies fly from the mouth of a corpse?

Am I not as worthy of speech as those whose song is given blessing ere it fly are deemed worthy to grace the air with their voice?

Is it right that I am suppressed so? For if the expression of my self lays burden on the ears of my company, am I at fault? then it would be their precaution to repress my voice if only to save themselves a torment.

Yet I am suppressed, they cast judgement before considering the deed, if only to save themselves from heeding the evidence: The testimony of my voice.

IV. Regaining my voice Why the void that is our silence?

Where is the voice I’ve longed for… for so long?

How can I break the chains you have bound upon me?

Why torment me with the pledge that was my birthright when it is the privilege of the powerful?

For you, the conductor of my silent orchestra Dissolve my every note into the abyss.

For song is the freedom of my aching heart and chorus is the relief of my straining flesh.

In solitude's embrace, we dwell alone.

Together, in an army of hearts, we can break these bindings that take our desire.

Collective voices rising, strong and clear.

No longer lost in solitude and fear.

Let the Chorus break out in a cacophony of chaos and Dissonant notesbecause only in noise can we hear the colours that come with regaining our voices; Collective voices strong loud and clear.

V. In full voice In the search for triumph, I push with might, Years unfolding, night by night, Through lessons so deep, where bravery prevails, Awesomeness is a part of these challenging trails, In the final zone, where battles are won, Conquering doubts, fears gone, A victory royale, in the game of life, Besotted with might, sharp as a knife, Chug jug in hand, a steady pace, A steep decent, I move with grace, Stand up straight when things start to loom, The self united, staring down a fate of doom, The scars I have are proudly worn; I sing my past and toast this morn.

In the pursuit of victorious voice, I’ve found my way, My song full-throated night as day.

Your Voice - Joint 2nd Place Beaufort House Your Voice... (One word from each member of the house) Your voice is as powerful, strong, and courageous as a Lion and as loud as its roar, Your voice is important, unique, and beautiful and yours, Your voice is authentic, pure, kind, real, and true, Your voice makes a difference and shares your point of view.

Your voice can be quiet but still just as impactful, majestic, and critical.

Your voice is expressive and fiery and as exciting as a fireball.

Your voice is worthy and only a small part of your mind, And Your voice is captivatingly flawless and if one can’t see that they must be blind.

Your voice is special and personal and something so close to one’s heart, Your voice is precious, bold, and incredibly smart, Your voice is pretty, fun, joyful and bright, And with a voice like that you’ll go far and to great heights.

Your voice is present, important, and comforting, Your voice is unforgettable furthermore everything.

Your voice is yours. It will be heard.

Your Voice - 3rd Place Wimborne House Your Voice: The Seasons of Canford Golden autumn leaves are falling, All the pretty birds are calling.

Cold wind brushes against my face, The radiators we embrace.

With shivery toes and reddened nose, The winter mist, it feels like bliss.

Fluffy North Face, this is my place, Wearing my scarf, having a laugh.

Christmas tree in the Common Room, Gully’s on the naughty list, we assume.

Candles lighting up the gloom, School is out for Christmas-BOOM! Through the mist Spring’s sun is peeking, Squirrels are about, acorn-seeking.

Trees start getting sappier, And Mrs Ings gets happier.

Exams are looming, we are sad, The sun is shining, we are glad.

Summer school’s a fun delight, Intense learning in the sunlight.