Poetry and Creative Writing for All

The Top 5 Poems of the Month

January 2006

Our winning poet for January is Amanda Richards.
Amanda's biography and more of her poems

The Bakestone

Her floury hands are mottled with faded cinnamon freckles
and her sleeves are pushed up tight,
rolled onto the plump muscles of her old arms,
constricting the sagging, loosened flesh.
Her cross-over apron is washed with spring print,
as she works, with concentration, above soft chins.

Her wedding ring is carefully placed on the window ledge,
in the kitchen winter half-light,
as those firm skilled fingers
plunge into the dough,
which has been mixed by judgement;
without scales.

And suspended above the stove
is the blackened bakestone,
hissing and smoking with fat
and waiting for circles of that curranty dough,
which she turns and flips,
so that they firm and brown;
delicious and melting with nutmeg.

And that flat, black slab of iron is
hooked above the flame,
old and alive;with a lifetime of hardship and travels 
from home.

Amanda Richards

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

Midnight Mass

Outside the Cathedral pristine and regal
Young lovers queue up for a pew
Tis a time for thinking of others
As least that's what we're told to do

As the men sit drunk in the confessional box
Singing pub songs that hardly make sense
The women shush them and shush them again
Through the haze of the sweet frankincense

The men have been on the drink all day
The women alone, stuck indoors
Tis Christmas a time for forgiving
A time to be seen out with yours

As the crowd gather round the nativity scene
"All men are equal in Gods eyes" we're told
Try telling that to the tramps outside in the street
Homeless, lonely and old

The candles flicker to the sound of the hymns
As the tramps come inside from the cold
They sit in side alters away from the mass
They're not welcome in Gods house I'm told

As the smoke rises up up to the heavens
Those passed on, are missed at this time
As widows dry tears they think of the years
With sadness and joy both combined

The choristers sing like angels
With dulcet young voices so sweet
Outside the fine marble Cathedral,
The homeless still sleep in the street

As the rich families turn up for the once a year mass
To make Christmas Day so complete
Tis a shame in their finery they had to step over
The homeless asleep in the street

The singing and prayers from those gathered there
Are touching, inspiring and sad
"Its Christmas, lets think of those worse off than us"
Says the well spoken priest
The sheer hypocrisy just makes me mad

As the plates are passed round
As their conscience gives pounds
They are hopeful that dough will ease pain
If not how are they to feel good about themselves
With all those material aims

As the congregation shakes hands with total strangers
"Peace be with you" often is said
The tramps in the side alters forgotten
Bless themselves and shake wise aged heads

The priest stands at the doors to say "Merry Christmas"
To the once year a punters red faced
Who think that by turning up here on this night
Their souls are now flowing with grace

As the crowds gather outside on the pavement
To talk about goodwill and cheer
They turn up their noses and strike rigid poses
In case someone unkempt comes quite near

The tramps sit across the road with a smoke and a joke
To watch all the small talk take place
All of the punters feel they're conscientious clear
But they won't look the tramps in the face

As the now holy souls depart in their droves
To breakfast and Christmas tree lights
Will they think of those with out caring or love
Who walk London street's on this night

Good Will Amongst Men? Go on say it again
Though you know in your heart, Such talk is cheap
We care only for him with £ signs that ring
And are lead to the mass just like sheep

Merry Christmas to ye and yours indoors
The thoughts above are my thoughts alone
When in the bosom of yer family this Christmas
They'll be sadly always someone alone!

peace.

Kevin Raymond

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Summertime

Rochelle Moore

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Hollow Gap

Where were you to hold my hand?
Where were you to understand?
To wipe away the tears I shed,
To lay my hurting heart to bed.
I needed you to keep me near,
To guard me from my childhood fears.
I feel I’ve faced to world alone,
I’ve felt my heart turn to stone.
An adult body is still alive,
But the child inside slowly dies.
There’s something missing from my past,
This I know will always last.
The hollow gap,
The empty view.
Now I realise,
Mum was you.

Kathryn Wilson

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Topsy Turvy Christmas

It's Christmas time again
The snow is falling down.
Its flakes are made of sugar
And are coloured chocolate brown.
There's snowmen without hats on
Dogs with ten foot tails
And Santa's sleigh with bells on
Is pulled by killer whales.
Christmas trees lean sideways
And monkey's live within.
They swing from branch to branch
And they make an awful din.
Holly is not prickly,
Bells don't make a sound.
Baubles on the Christmas trees
Are triangular, not round.
There's turkey's playing football
Against the three wise men.
They play with rolled-up stuffing
And the referee's a hen.
Cats sing Christmas carols,
Toys all come alive.
Action men have dresses
While Barbie scuba-dives.
There's gravy over puddings
And peas are filled with cream.
In my topsy-turvy Christmas,
My topsy-turvy dream.

Bob Fiddaman

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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.