Poetry and Creative Writing for All

The Top 5 Poems of the Month

December 2004

Our winning poet for November is Ian Duncan.
Read Ian's biography and more of his poems

Tough Girl

Her heart lays heavy,
And her mood is down.
I have this overwhelming urge,
To throw my arms around.

But she won’t accept comfort,
Because she isn't hurt,
She prefers to pretend,
To be the good-time girl, that flirts.

She tells me she's a tough girl,
Brought up on the streets.
She's not some little princess,
Who collapses, sobs and weeps.

Nothing ever hurts her.
She's dealt with tougher stuff.
She doesn’t need a hero.
She doesn’t want protective love.

This is what she tells me,
And I should heed her word;
But I can't help but think,
You got to protect the girl.

Ian Duncan

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Here are the other four poems chosen by our imprint editors as winning poems for December. All other poems submitted for the Top 5 Poems of the Month for December are being considered for various anthologies.

The Unfinished Job

The dog came bounding through the door
with my fella chasing after
But I couldn't do a thing to help
as I was doubled up with laughter
For the dog was covered from head to tail
and all around his belly
With that famous brand of toilet roll
one watches on the telly
My fella close in his pursuit
caught his shirt sleeve on the door
The force........well it repelled him
and sent him crashing to the floor
Now the poor old dog who got all the blame
was nowhere to be seen
And I never knew from that day on
if my fella had ever been !!!

Wendy Orlando

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Giving Thanks

As the leave fall and the trees become bare,
It's that time again, fall season is here.
As Halloween fades and begins to give way,
November gives birth to fall's last holiday.
A time of togetherness, surrounded by family,
Kids screaming at each other, "Don't touch me!"
Crowded kitchens as we help with cooking chores,
Crowded living rooms checking out football scores
So while cooking turkey or watching the game,
Remember this holiday is about praising his name.
It's about giving thanks to our Lord above,
For his many gifts of unconditional love,
For the gift of friendship and families too,
For his son who died to show his love for you,
And arose on the third day, your sins all forgiven,
For the place he has prepared for you up in heaven,
For easing your mind and calming your fears,
For being by your side throughout the years
You can give thanks for God doing his part,
But there's a special thanks deep in your heart.
There's a special blessing behind your heart's door.
That one special thing you'll give him thanks for.
For you it might be family, it could be friends too,
But for me, I give thanks, God made someone like you.

Daniel A Bristol

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Operation Christmas Child

Please put these in things in a shoe box
To bring smiles to an Orphan Child.

Give scarves and gloves
And a woolly hat.
Some colouring books
Children will like that.
Pens and paper
These will help.
No chocolate please
As this will melt.
Toothbrush and paste
Will also do
Send a Christmas card
And a photo too.
A pair of socks
And a packet of sweets.
These mean a lot.
Mark the box clearly
For Girl or for Boy.
Add a lot of love
And a cuddly toy.

Mix the above, and add a smile,
Then send your box to a Special Child.

Doreen E Hampshire

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Bullough's Wall

It was sixteen a side footy against Bullough's wall.
The lamp post a corner, the old gate the goal.
the kerb was a full back, there were no offsides.
Barbwire topped the bar, the pitch two streets wide.
Size ten clogs wove a delicate trace,
With an old rubber ball or case without lace.
There were no referees, it was free for all.
As England beat Scotland along Bullough's wall.

Then came Summer, long days off School.
It was sixteen a side cricket along Bullough's wall.
The wickets were chalk on the loading bay door
The gutter the crease, the post box a four.
Over the cut it was six and out,
The next man in was the loudest shout.
There were no lbw's, no bails to fall,
As England beat Australia along Bullough's wall.

Now some played at Wembley in a cup final dream.
And some played for England on Lords's velvet green.
But some fell at Ypres and some on the Somme,
Others fell at Delville on their way home.
And those that remain pay out the toll
With Satanic labour inside Bullough's wall.

David Birtrwistle

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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.