We are pleased to announce the winners of the 2017 TBP Poetry contest. Thank you to all that participated in the first TBP poetry contest. We received a range of poems–some were happy, some were sad, and some were touching.
Choosing the winners was not an easy task. In the end, the judgment came down to the poets’ originality, style, structure and impact. The judges were blown away by the talent and creativity they received from you, our patrons.
The winners are:
Category 1 (Ages 0- 10): Xiomara Gilliam with “A Cat Who Could Jump”
Category 3 (Ages 19 and Up): Barbary Wright with “Now We Are Ninety”
Category 3 (Ages 19 and Up): Tiffany Chartier with “One Cowboy’s End”
Job well done!
A Cat Who Could Jump by Xiomara Grace Gilliam
There once was a cat who could jump.
He could jump high over a bump.
He fell on his head
And thought he was dead
But all that was there was a lump.
NOW WE ARE NINETY by Barbara M. Wright
God brought us together, by His hand from above,
From the moment we met, we were in love.
Loneliness gone, a new life together,
His hand in mine, we learned from each other.
We are seventy-two and ripe for adventure,
He made me smile as we sang, and we danced,
He was the builder, with saw and a hammer,
I was his helper, standing by with the measure.
Day by day, year by year, our love grew stronger,
Until the day came when he could remember no longer.
Each time I am with him, he asks again and again,
“Why can’t I go home, oh please tell me when.”
Now, our bodies are frail, our sight growing dim,
Yet my love is no less than when I married him.
“What’s the matter with me?” words that tear at my heart.
“You love me no more, or we would not be apart”.
Most of his past and the people he knew,
Like a fog rolling in, seem to have vanished from view.
Oh God, if it you hear me, please call my love home,
I don’t want to die first and leave him alone.
One Cowboy’s End by Tiffany K. Chartier
Tree stumps circle around the old stone fire pit;
Tall grass rides up the boots of those who sit.
Stories are shared with an air of pride,
as the fire swells and the night hides.
Critters on the outskirts stop to listen,
but the cowboys see their eyes a ‘glisten.
The shrouded unknown is haunting;
yes, to all creatures – fear is the most daunting.
That is what, after all, boosts the tales,
around all old stone fire pits around the trails.
So long as the faithful fires keep a ‘swellin;
the sins of the cowboys will remain engulfed with their hellin’.
No one will notice the fear in their eyes;
except, perhaps, for that one fearless critter…right before one cowboy dies.