day
And his skin felt like silk
Over time he has grown
He giggles, laughs and talks
It took him a long time
But now he even walks
He is two years old already
And not so little any more
I’ve seen him grow every day
Lucas will keep growing I’m sure!
Highly Commended: No Grow by Jaxan Rackley from West Moreton Anglican College, Karrabin, Qld
Grow is no to me,
I say No!
No grow fat
No grow tall
No grow skinny
No grow small
I Say No
NO GROW,
NO GROW,
No grow strong
No grow weak
No grow smart
No grow dumb
I say No!
I will not grow
Plants may grow
They don’t have a choice
I don’t want to grow
Wait, tall for rides?
Grow!
GROW!
GROW!
Highly Commended: Books by Sunny Thomas from Ipswich East State School, East Ipswich, Qld
A book is a tool that everyone can use,
For hours and hours they will keep you amused.
From facts and figures to science and diggers,
It is up to you what your mind triggers.
They make you feel emotional, happy and sad,
l love happy endings, that I am glad.
Books can be recycled, hand them around,
From op shops to garage sales they can be found.
Favourite stories will never grow old,
As to many children they can be retold.
So when you are bored or want something to do
Just pick up a book and read it through.
Highly Commended: Barbie by Isabella Weise from Raceview State School, Raceview, Qld
A sparkly new dress
And some shiny big boots
Plaiting and braiding
There's so much to do
Add some bright hairspray
A glistening new coat
Then meet all her friends
On the pink Barbie boat
Back to contents
The Queensland Times Award - 11-13 Years
1st Place: Evangeline by Grace Nakamura from St Peter and Paul’s Catholic School, Bulimba, Qld
Where the moon floats through the star spangled sky,
Where the crickets all croon a gentle lullaby,
Where the brook chuckles on in a reassuring flow,
Where the whole world is lit with a soft eerie glow.
A child,
Awake,
In the dead,
Of the night.
She slips,
Out of bed,
Her footsteps,
Are light.
She’s poised
Not to wake
The other
Orphaned girls.
Her pale face
Is framed
By a mass
Of dark curls.
When the trees whisper songs to the stars so bright,
When the wind swirls through the infinite night.
When the flowers lay down their petals to rest,
When the sun slumbers on in the land of the West.
She reaches,
The window
Without making
A sound.
She presses,
A hand
Against the glass,
And looks ‘round
Her dark eyes
Reflect
The tranquil
Moon-lit scene.
And she wishes
On a star
This girl,
Evangeline.
If the universe is bigger than anyone ever thought,
If within those stars dwell a species of another sort.
If somewhere out there there’s a place to call home,
Then perhaps, just perhaps, I am not quite all alone.
Her eyes,
Filled with stars,
And her face,
All alight.
Evangeline
Whispers
Sweet dreams,
To the night.
She treads
Back to bed
And dreams
Of this place.
Evangeline
Sleeps,
A slight smile,
On her face.
There once was a girl who dreamed of the stars,
Whose mind wandered far while her body was in bars.
She dared to imagine, ventured to wonder,
Inside she flew on her dreams to a place far yonder.
2nd Place: Open Grave by Isabella Sheehan from Aspley, Qld
Death, darkness, despair:
War is a house of horrors
My grave is waiting.
3rd Place: The Bushfire Brumbies by Eva Marsh from Presbyterian Ladies College, Peppermint Grove, Perth, WA
When the spiteful sun reaches its peak on the hottest hour,
The dry wind riders mount their steed and they ascend to power.
Distant trotting of the bushfire brumbies on the cracked earth plains,
They are gathering momentum as the sun beats on their manes.
The stallion’s nostrils dilate with smoke; a sign of what's to come
As he calls for reinforcements and they answer, one by one.
All residents evacuate as the brumbies gather speed,
Fresh fire from the sun as fuel is all the food these ponies need.
Their hooves kick up ash on baking plains with every single stride,
Helpless lizards burrow for the core, trying in vain to hide.
Bushfire brumbies halt, pawing the ground, awaiting direction,
Dry wind riders build again, not needing any protection.
Onwards and eastwards they travel, flames engulfing their fetlocks,
Trampling eucalypts and saplings, cunning as a feral fox,
The parched ground chokes as the hooves trample through; panic fills the air.
Fire fighters muster the brumbies, hoping in vain to ensnare,
Flightier than emus, stronger than gums, bolder than thunder,
Dry wind riders are never harnessed and avoid a blunder.
Onwards and eastwards, their tails streaming behind, fire at their hooves,
Cantering, a trail of flames as a scar, breaths held, nothing moves.
Free with the wind, out of control, like wedge-tail eagles they soar,
Smoke blinds all creatures, but the ponies see like never before.
Flightier than emus, stronger than gums, louder than thunder,
They run with wind, never give mercy, watch eucalypts sunder.
Surrounded at last with all exits covered, their end is nigh,
Fire brumbies are forced to surrender, no sun left in the sky.
Drowsy with defeat, they sink to the earth with their heavy hearts,
Blaze is drenched with water; puff of smoke, the stallion departs.
The dry wind riders have lost their strength and power with no steed,
Bushfire brumbies have left their scars, and the bush is left to bleed.
Amidst the carnage are banksia seedlings that the embers spilt,
From these seeds hope sprouts, then homes and lives are gradually rebuilt.
But on the hottest hour the dry wind riders again will call,
The brumbies will gather momentum; the fragile bush will fall,
Flightier than emus, stronger than gums, crueller than thunder.
They run with wind, never give mercy, their purpose is plunder.
Highly Commended: The Ode of a Ghost by Erin Burge from Blair State School, Sadliers Crossing, Qld
Mother lies in the darkness waiting for her baby to rise
She scrambles in the graveya
rd as her spirit dies
Blind to the fact that her child has seen the light
But when she sleeps the baby shall come at night
Playing and dancing throughout the house
Tip toeing in the corridor quiet as a mouse
The ghost of a baby so bright.
The ghost of a baby who’s seen the light.
Highly Commended: War by Isabella Sheehan from Aspley, Qld
The enemy advances forward.
I am huddled in the cold,
deep,
dark
trench.
Footsteps,
getting louder,
Louder.
The devil’s on my back
"You can end it now’, he whispers,
it'll be quick,
painless".
My heart's hammering.
Footsteps,
getting closer,
closer.
I look around.
Men
bleeding,
cursing,
crying;
but mostly
with their eyes closed,
some dead, some alive,
the sense of defeat
hanging ominously around us.
Footsteps.
The sound of gunshots.
Screams.
Then a deathly silence.
That’s when I know
that the war is over.
A tear trickles down my face,
and I too
close my eyes.
Highly Commended: Then Night by Munashe Mutambi from Ipswich Grammar School, Ipswich, Qld
The sun is down
The moon is up
The wolves run howling
The stars burn up
The lights blink on
The streets fall silent
The night creatures slip out
The birds bury in trees
The moon is down
The night creatures run hiding
The birds swoop over
The stars blink out
The wind stops blowing
The sun is up
The wolves stop howling
Highly Commended: I Pick Up the Stick by Eddie Newman from Raceview State School, Raceview, Qld
I pick up the stick, welcoming its smooth light tan surface in my palm,
Cobalt curls and spikes, twirl and glide across the surface,
The painted symbol of an ancient majestic beast,
Motionless, yet still moving.
I hold it above the stretched taut skin of the drum
And thrust it downwards.
A loud sound emanates, simple and unfit,
But continued with a multitude of its own kind
All different yet the same,
Creates a harmonious choir of raw sound.
Supported by the dramatic flows and bountiful swings of the brass and woodwind
It’s beauty undeniable.
Together the sounds frolic and play on the plains of sound,
A beautiful dance that continues until time takes its unpreventable toll.
Forced to conclude, with one small tap -
simple and unfit.
Highly Commended: The Book of Forgotten Words by Samantha George from Collingwood Park State School, Collingwood Park, Qld
I sit on a shelf, waiting to be