December 2010
Featured Reader & Judge: Diana Fazio
First Place:
St. Augustine Vigil
by Cyndee Bowdoin
Spanish moss spreads its frayed, tattered old skirt
to shield restless souls once vibrant with life
embedded stones shrouded in ancient dirt
warn us of this mortal coil’s endless strife
know their secret
or see their pain
ignorance is bliss
with all of us blind
the dead take their own stories to the grave
huddled in darkness, in forgotten tongues
they whisper to the silent oak trees where
Spanish moss spreads its frayed, tattered old skirt
Second Place:
ROSA MORTE
by Cora Lee Palma—Hayden
like tears of heart-broken mourner,
faded rose petals drop in succession,
proclaim summer’s destined conclusion.
vivid leaves of autumn resume cadence,
baring branches of sturdy oaks and elms,
in frosty anticipation of winter’s chill.
with spring’s dawn, rose incarnates.
like tears of joy, fragile baby buds
commence nature’s cycle of life.
Honorable Mention:
GLORY OF WAR
by Thomas J. Pangia
rice paper houses
burn easily
as children run
with fascinating terror
to make them free
we plunder, conquer
and exploit
we kill
heroes die in their sleep
the tragedy
is for the living
I dance with death
for someone else’s cause
it does not matter
in the end
which country I die for
or which god I worship
Honorable Mention:
Imprisoned
by Linda Levine
icy stitches .
hang
like prison bars
winters needle sews
eaves to ground ·
cry for help
trapped
in frozen breath
Arctic air releases
not a sound
Special Contest: Sonnet
TORMENT
by Victoria Maynard
l dare not bare my soul in poetry
lest fingers point in ridicule
their jeers, barbed arrows aimed at me
to pierce this thin veneer, that masks a fool.
Ergo, my pen belies what’s in my heart
and writes trite verse to please the crowd,
while anguish for the un-writ part
remains inside in torment, like a shroud
of tattered gray, most fitting for the dream
interred with poems, that l am loath to share
until, some kindred spirit can redeem
me from this sepulcher, with hand so fair.
Who wakes my heart , who nurtures joy therein
and thus, give reason to take up my pen.