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The Top 5 Poems of
the Month
July
2003
Our winning poet for July is Donna
Rimer.
Read Donna Rimer's biography and more of
her poems 
Freeze Frame
Stop the hands of the clock
for I am so tired.
Let creeping shadows rest,
make the changing seasons
pause,
stem the ebb and flow of the tide
and stop the graceful descent
of autumnal leaves,
Postpone the rising sun,
the shining of the moon
and the dance of the butterflies.
Give me a minute,
a moment,
for I am lost and nobody else
is looking for me.
I am broken and need time
to repair.
Give me just a little while
and once again I will view
this world's beauty.
Halt it all so I miss none of
the magic.
Give me the time to find my
curiosity again,
the time to find my way back.
Stop the hands of the clock
for I am so tired.
Let me rest.
Donna Rimer
Top
Here are the other
four poems chosen by our imprint editors
as winning poems for July. All other poems submitted for the Top 5 Poems of
the Month for July are being considered for various anthologies.
The World Is Like A River
The world is like a river,
down which we all must sail.
Cold winds may make us shiver,
but we will still prevail.
For now we are together,
your hand still holding mine.
Through rain and stormy weather,
with you the sun still shines.
We sail along through joy and tears,
with dark, then brighter days.
As time and current take the years
too fast and far away.
Finally, we reach the sea
where the waves of life run dry.
There is no fear, we will not flee,
our love will never die.
So hold me in your loving arms,
this hour will cause no grief.
As you and I, with all your charms
enter the ocean deeps.
John Foster
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Abused
A rosebud so innocent and vulnerable
trusted everyone who would come near.
Her petals are now tattered and damaged
And her heart bleeds many a tear.
Bruised and destroyed before she could bloom
Not like her friends who looked all the same.
Her young soft velvet vialated
She now hangs her poor head in shame.
Slyfully Incorating their innocence
Picking rosebuds for their dirty deeds
Virgin, honest nieave little flowers
Threw to the side like unwanted weeds.
Geraldine Mc Mullan
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Supreme Spirit of Evil
Twisting, turning, deepest ravine
River flowing, curdled dreams
Spirits reminiscing, falling foul
Of mother nature's grasping hands.
Giver of the earth, she taketh back
And turns the dust to eternal life.
Oh odious demons, curse of all
A fiendish force, with no remorse
Transmuting craftily, to gain control.
Faceless, vacuous figure
Surreptitiously gaining strength.
Myrmidon of all that lives.
Annette Murphy
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Nothing
I don't like this, what I have done,
Don't like this person that I've become.
Where once there was hope and dreams inside,
Now there is nothing, like all has died.
An empty shell where once was me,
Those who are closest don't even see,
That behind this smile are many tears,
And deep, emotional, irrational fears.
I can stare for hours at nothing at all,
In a pit of despair I sometimes fall.
My tongue now tells so many lies,
And myself, I now despise.
The cuts I inflict always heal,
The pain should be there, but I just don't feel.
Hours of sleep have become less and less,
My head is void full of nothingness.
Deanna L Dixon
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To
submit a poem to the online
competition email
inbox@forwardpress.co.uk
Please include Top 5 Poems in
the subject line of your email.
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