Pictured below is Blake winner of the Acorn section


Photo of Acorn Winner Blake

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Poetry competition



The Sea
Blake Chadwick

As still as a statue the water lies begging for the wind

Quickly the wind comes around, it’s time to make the water angry now

It swishes and jumps up at the lighthouse

Now it’s evening, the tide comes in and the water goes to sleep.


Tidal Waves Splashing
Lee Bakken

Tidal waves splashing

The jagged rocks up high

Making loud noises


Malic Omar and Ethan Martin

Water is fun put it in a gun,
Squirt it at your mum,
But you’re not done,
You can fire it at your dad,
But he’ll be mad,
Shoot at your sis,
Make her go bliss,
Now shoot it at your bro,
So he’ll know
Water is fun!


Pictured below are Harry, Ben and Joshua who entered the Sapling section

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Drip drop
Ben Lyon

Drip, drop.
Drip, drop.

Water trickling down.
Licking mossy rocks,
Swallowing it whole.
Dancing and prancing,
Over the falls.

Splash, splash.
Down it goes.
Like bullets,
Hitting its target.

Drip, drop.
Drip, drop.
All around,
All is tranquil,
Water is patient,
And forever still.


A Wave
Harry Simmons

A wave of flowing water
Mossy rocks
Crashing sand
A sound I had never heard before
Waves becoming rapids
Splattering the rocks


Glistening Water
Joshua Edge

The glistening water
Flowing down the stream
Re-joining the rapids
Dripping off the rocks
The water starts falling
As it gets nearer


Just hit the bottom


Pictured below are Oak winners

Carl Leckey, seated, and Judith Railton.

The judges James to Carl’s right

and John to Judith’s left.

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Close to home

Carl Leckey

Deep laden coaster creeps through the fog.
Hardly the way to stream out her log.
Look out stands forrard straining his eyes.
To pick out the dangers that threaten their lives.

A flag on the quarter hangs thick on the pole
The colours are marred by smoke from the coal
It’s hard to distinguish is she from near or far?
On a rust covered plate is the word Panama.

Fog whistles wail their deepthroated screams.
Stirring not landsmen from their pleasant dreams.
A handful of men with rotten old gear.
Trying their best to show not their fear.

So close to the port where their troubles end.
Away form the sea whose nobodies friend.
When out of the fog looms a startling sight.
A fast moving tanker in ballast runs light.

She cuts into the coaster deep amidships.
Then into the fog she silently slips.
The coaster laden with mixed cargo and goods.
Settles down deep as she quickly floods.

Too late for the lifebelts too late for the float.
No time to launch the undamaged boat.
Icy cold water so dark and so grim
Ruthlessly claim the crew who can’t swim.

Even strong swimmers can’t reach the beach.
As a fast flowing ebb takes them far out of reach.
All that remains of the ship that has sunk.
Is a crate a hatchboard and an oil-covered plank?

The owners based in a country so far away.
Arrive at their office for another routine day.
They don’t comment much when they’re told of her fate
They fill out their insurance claim and gleefully wait.


High Tide from New Ferry to Rock Ferry

January 6th 2014

 by Judith Railton
Oak, Written Section

The river, a molten snakeskin
Restless, powerful, surging

Waves curl and crash the pebble shore
Leave gifts all tumbled
A plastic Christmas tree, broken purple bauble 
Yellow party popper, fragment of tile 
A cheap blue lighter, sodden flowery textile;
Waves curve like caramel 
With white foam breaking onto green sea-glass

The scouring roar along the old sandstone wall
Tips over the edge
Walkers and dogs scutter, climb the muddy bank

Gulls ride the roller coaster
Bobbing, crying, swooping;
Turbines turn in the sun
Low cloud spills a rainbow over Liverpool

The anchored fishing boats, the dinghies,
The orange buoys have felt it all before
They relax into the tide, ride the swell

Jetty puddles are calm
Reflecting metal fence, wild plant
And a soft yellow and indigo sky blanket
Looming over the Mersey;

There's rain in the air


Highly commended

River of Life

Esther Lewis

When I started on the river
I didn’t realise how swift could be a current
To fight, in order to survive.

At time the water seems so calm
Everything flows smoothly,
Gently peace lulls senses,
But the water is ever moving.

My river is full of dangers
I need all my skill and resource
My fragile craft is tested
I pray it will stay the course.

I cannot get off this river,
Once I am on for aye,
I may linger a while beside the bank
Although never allowed to stay.

However long the journey,
Different for everyone,
Whether long or short we must brave it
Until life on the river is done.

I arrive at the mouth of the river
Where its waters meet the sea,
To be borne across to that distant shore,
Knowing loved-ones are waiting for me.


Tree Planting in Poet's Corner

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Pictured left to right: Ben, Ben and Blake

Pictured Left to right: Esther, Judith and Carl