Christmas poetry competition 2023

Christmas Poetry Competition 2023 Theme: ‘Magical winter nights’ All year groups

Magical Winter Night

In the hush of the solstice, beneath the quilt of celestial might, A tapestry of wonder unfolds on magical winter nights. Where stars, like diamonds, in the velvet sky, Illuminate the silent world with a celestial sigh. As moonbeams dance on the frost-kissed ground, A symphony of stillness, a serenity profound. In the kingdom of winter, a frosty enchantment weaves, A spellbinding tale, as nature softly conceives. The air is laced with the fragrance of pine, A whispered promise of joy, a gift so divine. The breath of the north wind, a gentle caress, Whispers secrets of yore, in the stillness, confess.

Winner Christmas Poetry Competition 2023

Beneath the celestial theatre, where constellations gleam, A waltz of snowflakes, a crystalline dream. They pirouette and twirl, in the soft lunar glow, A ballet of frost, on the earth below. Through frosted windows, a warm hearth light glows, Casting shadows on the floor in rhythmic repose. A symphony of crackles, as the fire sings, A melody of comfort, that the season brings.

In the embrace of loved ones, hearts aglow, A tapestry of memories, like fresh fallen snow. Laughter resonates, like bells in the night, A chorus of joy, in the soft candlelight.

By Elsa Brandler

Magical Winter Nights

On cold Christmas night, beneath a star filled sky, A tale unfolds, where friendships lie.

In a wintry wood, where shadows do play, A dog and raccoon cross paths on their way.

Flakes of snow falling, a blanket so pure, The dog and raccoon, an unlikely lure.

In the crisp, icy air, a yelp breaks through, The raccoon in peril, in need of some rescue.

With a bark of bravery, the dog bounded near, Eager to help, to calm the raccoon's clear fear.

In the glow of the Christmas moon, a friendship blooms, As the dog untangles, and the raccoon resumes.

The dog, a bundle of fur with eyes so very bright, Wrapped the racoon a bone, a tasty delight.

Runner up Christmas Poetry Competition 2023

Tail wagging wildly, and joy unrestrained, As the raccoon, had too, a surprise to be explained.

A trinket so shiny, a bauble so small, But in the raccoon's paws, a treasure to enthral.

The dog's nose twitched with clear curiosity, A reciprocal gesture, a bond in their unity.

On this Christmas night, a lesson is so clear, That our friendships transcend fear, and spread joy far and near.

In the language of friendship, no words had been said, Just the joyous exchange of their gifts instead.

In a world diverse, where differences gleam, The dog and raccoon share a festive dream.

A heart-warming tale, beneath the Christmas moon's soft light, Proving that we can all be friends, no matter our sight.

By Lily Lane Bond

Kurzlebiger Frieden

The snow was prancing around the dark skies, Hoping to settle a short compromise, When it landed gently in the no man’s land, Three gentlemen jumped out unplanned, They discussed as more men piled out.

‘Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,’ ‘All is calm, and all is bright,’ Words of Christmas came about,

Footballs were kicked, As treats were picked, Christmas Trees were standing proudly. As boys were singing loudly. However this was short lived. Bullets were falling from the skies, Hopes were dropping in size. People died. Christmas was over, Der Krieg kehrte zurück, der kurze Frieden war zu Ende.

By Anonymous Runner up Christmas Poetry Competition 2023

Our winners received books of poetry plus hot chocolate and marshmallows. Our first place winner also received a notebook and pen and a Terry’s Chocolate Orange. We were so impressed with all the entries, turn the page to read more!

Ben Ferrett Magical Winter Nights

The moonlight, a soft glow on the gloomy nights Illuminates the slumbering landscape The frost begins to sparkle gracefully on the city’s windows As time slows and the streets start to appear deserted The street lamps peer down on the empty pavements The icy winds, whisper through the streets In the quiet embrace of a cold winter night, Where the stars shimmer, distant and bright The wind sings a lullaby to the people sleeping Footsteps echo in the icy air, Leaving imprints in the snow, a story to share

By Ben Ferrett

Magical Winter Nights

I took out my torch, but I didn’t need it The moon illuminated the sky with its soft yellow haze As I looked up and admired the crystals twinkling above me I took a long, sharp breath in. The cold air rushing through my nose, chilling my insides. It stung my face until it was numb As I took another step forward the was a crunching beneath me of fragile twigs and frosty, amber leaves. I looked up, out into the distance and caught sight of an old lady sitting alone on a bench staring down at her frost bitten hands There was a thin carpet of snow across her feeble shoulders And snow flakes disguised in her dainty white hair Just the sight of her, such an innocent soul alone on a winters night made my stomach twist I felt my legs under me uncontrollably move towards her I looked down into her kind, worn eyes and she looked back into mine, As if she wanted to say something As if she had a story to tell.

By Rosie Van der Gucht

Magical Winter Night

It was a freezing winter night, and I was walking home. Mom and Dad were finally coming home from their long business trips. I have not seen them for months. I opened the gates to the front door. They were standing there, right at the doorway.

During the past months while they were gone, I was all alone, I told myself hundreds and thousands of times, that I am fine on my own and I don’t need them.

I said it so many times in my head, I was convinced that it was true. But when I saw them, standing there with their familiar gazes.

I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I didn’t want to fake it anymore. I had miss them so much. Tears rolled down my cheeks, tears of joy.

I rushed to hug them, and we shared a big warm hug once again after months,

just before they left. But now it’s different, we gathered.

Suddenly, there were joyful cheers from the streets, ‘ Snow, it’s snowing!’ White snowflakes were falling from the sky, the snow glowed, the moon shined down on us. It was the first snow.

By Chloe Tse

Magical winter Nights

It was my whole world. It was light. It was warmth. It was my final chance.

It’s small ring of fire was all I had. I stared at it, and it slowly filled my vision. It danced a blue ballet through the frozen air. Twisting, turning, a flowing theatre of desperation. The spouts of blue gas cast drunken shadows on the canvas. Time slowed, spread, each second lasted a lifetime. Its flame became all I knew. Had been for hours. All food I had to cook on it was long gone. I was on the clock. As the final sputters died, and the darkness returned my makeshift tent. The slight breeze chilled me down to my bones. I curled up hugging what was my last hope. God it was cold.

By Will Naylor

Edging Closer to Christmas

A lone sigma rises in the silent Christmas night, beneath the sparkling stars behind the silence of the falling light, It was quite a plight that the sigma was stuck in, he had never been so alone, yet it was peaceful even though he had no home and not even one fellow,

footsteps sound silently on the ground covered with snow, peace is discovered by freedom and Christmas sorrow. The sigma finds comfort beneath the December sky, with the brightness of candles reflected in his eye. a lone individual in the season, edging closer to Christmas.

By Marco Nahhas

Magical Winter Nights

Blades in gates go click, click: eight blades and bodies moving in unison. The sleek white shell glides along the icy water, a careful balancing act. Click, click. Clouds of frozen steam forced out from our lungs as we push the boat along. The boat shudders as each of us desperately tries to right the boat. Click click. We push our legs back up our slides; the boat rocks rhythmically From stern to bow. Click click. Our hands are cold on our blades; the skin on chilled palms wears away against hard plastic handles. The riggers dip into the frigid water as hands move up and down, unceasing. Click click. The sun sets behind us, creating silhouettes cast on the crimson ball. The river with its burst banks lies lazily over Port Meadow. Click click. Our Cox shouts, “Ten on!” through the microphone. Click click. We glide up our slide wrenching in burning intensity. Steam orbits the boat and mingles with the cold twilight air. Click click. We wrench strength out of our cold, tired legs as our cox shouts, “Timing!” Click ,click.

Icy spray hits me from the blade in front. Click click. The burning cold shocks me to the quick. Click click. The boat glides faster along the silent inky black river; we stabilise as we pick up pace. We’re the last out moving through the spectre-grey evening, Cutting through the water, the cold wind rushing past numbed faces. Click click. The boat slows down as the count hits one. The boat starts to pitch and yaw with fatigue – we nervously try to balance. Click click. The groan of the launch passes us. The coach shouts the last leg. We pressure ourselves to polish our technique. Click click. The Cox calls for another burst. Our lungs burn. The Cox shouts, ‘BUILD BUILD BUILD!’ We wince lungs of pain. Click click. The boat lurches forward, passing the frosted desert of Port Meadow. Click click. The shell rushes through the icy water. Click click click click! Getting faster I fixate on the boy in front. Click click! We glide to a halt, our breath tumbling forth, by the wooden landing stage.

Eight boys coughing and wheezing. We return the boat to its house.

By Frank Sekula

Magical Winter Nights

A calm Christmas eve. A red brick fireplace filled with Gowing embers. A warm wool rug with two children Playing. A black widow. A siren sounds; the children run. Outside. The snow settles and melts Off their cheeks. The fire truck rolls closer. Santa stands on the side Of the truck Giving out candy canes To the swarm of eager children.

Red spiral of sweetness, Red siren Red santa.

Parents gaze from the doorway, Capturing the memory. The children retreat The truck rolls on.

Silence Cold Darkness Return

By Mikhail Aslam

Remember What We’ve Lost

Delicate threads of light explore walls and fences high, But none more dazzling than the stars littering the night sky. As if they shed a power of pure hope and light, A gentle fall of snow elevates the night. A mosaic of fallen leaves, all limned with frost, With veins of crystalline shards, each detail embossed. A steady growth of moss clambers u leafless trees, Adorned with a coat of frost – shelter from the breeze. A gleeful group leaves a bar, laughing without care, Smiles so bright they almost rival the moon’s stare. They step on salted paths, avoiding the white sheen Not noticing its glimmer; this may be the last one seen. Summer came and went – hotter, this year, than ever. Winter returns in its stead but brings no sparkling snowfall. The gaze of stars cannot pierce the thick clouds That lie lazily over this cumbersome scene. A bird call in the distance, perhaps imagination There’s almost no fauna left in this once wild nation. No need to smother the roads in salt But still its heady scent hangs heavy in the air. Mud clings to the feet trampling over it, Which carelessly devour any remaining frost Wilful enough to grow in this negligent age On the once-glistening field that had been so fair. People cower in houses, fires crackling in hearths With plumes of black smoke erupting gravely above As the snow melts and frost slips away The sun sets on a winter once loved But too easily forgotten by all.

The winter of once is broken, forgotten. Who will remember all that we’ve lost?

By Heather Young

Magical Winter Nights

Silence echoed the forest. I was alone. Crunch, Crunch the delicate snow caved into the force of my feet. The silence shrouded my presence. Just me myself and I. I was lost, I was hungry and I Was alone. I walked and walked trying to recognise where I was. I looked up and the tender snowflakes landed onto my nose. I picked it up and observed the beautiful craftsmanship of the sky. With all the patterns and shapes. How they all fit into this tiny otherworldly small shape. I will never know. Just like I will never know where I am. The thoughts of Linda was a sharp dagger attached to my stomach and kept pushing. Deeper, deeper, and deeper. Look at me now I am a shambles without her. I was a shambles with her, but you know it was fun. Right? It’s just me and the snow now the cold but cloudlike snow. I want to engulf myself in it I want to go under and never come up. Just like Linda.

By Jack Portman

Dear Santa,

There’s a buzz around town about the season without frown.

This time of year, the time of cheer pricks me, with its icy spear.

Families celebrate as a flock bells tolling, the clock striking 12 o’clock.

As the winter draught appears I look for warmth, somewhere here.

But my heart is buried alone under this duvet, my temporary home.

Take me on a ride, light the star inside to show me there’s still magic, in this cold winter night .

By Yann-I Liew

Magical winter nights

As I lay next to my wandering cab, I’m thinking if someone would ever care, Care about how I’ve been jabbed and stabbed, Stabbed by everything, all so bare. I look out over the city of Petersburg, I see the people everywhere I think about how if I were an iceberg, Melting and sinking, oh how it be so rare. I look over at my trusty old mare, I’m a man of many words, And I wonder what I may get for my next fare, As I listen to all the birds,

Grief is a thing that fills me, I have horror about how it happened,

I’m not supposed to be the one paying the fees, But I’m the only one who can now be flattened

It will always lay in my heart, The day I collected my sons trusty things, He was a man, smarter than me, The pain, it really stings. My horse kicks and I wonder what it thinks, Will it feel my pain? It seems the only thing that has a real glimpse Into how I have nothing to gain So, I don’t know what to do anymore, I might as well go out. I feel like a ship that was never moored, One that is full of doubt.

By David Hunter

A Magical Christmas Night

Deep into the night, when the stars shine bright On Christmas Eve they say. A flash of light and a sudden delight As magical reindeer take flight, up, up and away. Falling glittery dust falls down Waiting patiently to one day be found. Children dreaming of tomorrow’s possibilities, Believing in magical dear’s abilities. The Milk, cookies and carrot they left out Must surely have been taken away. The Tree is surely filled, no doubt With wonderful treats and presents all about. As a magical sleigh returns to the North Pole, There isn’t a chance he has left any coal. For all the children have never missed, The chance to be on the nice list. As slowly snow beings to fall, It’s time to go ‘round with presents for all. Because after all it’s Christmas day No greater time to love and pray. As spirits of people across the world take flight It really is a Christmas delight.

By Ollie Mutton

On This Magical Winter Night

In the stillness of the night, When the snow falls, so light, The world transforms into a sight,

Of a magical winter delight, The stars twinkle up above,

As we snuggle in with those we love, The fire crackles with warmth and light, On this enchanting winter night, In the realm of frost and snow, Where moonlight casts a gentle glow, Magical winter nights unfold, With secrets yet to be told, In this wondrous season of delight, As snowflakes dance in the moon’s soft light, Whispers of enchantment fill the air, As winter’s magic weaves its spell with care, The air is crisp the stars shine bright, Where dreams take flight on wings of white, Magical winter nights embrace us all, With love and joy, they gently call, With hot chocolate in hand, We watch as the snow blankets the land, And in this moment we feel so right, On this magical winter night.

By Kit Chronias

The night of Christmas Eve

The snow crunched under feet on the drover's roads, The ice clung to the banks of the creak The fog hung above the hills, The fort's ramparts shimmered under the silver moon The robins danced between the trees The snow clung to the eves of the cottages The fires were lit The Christmas dinner in the oven The presents under the trees The families together The night of Christmas Eve It had come at last.

By Xan Kinnier

Magical Winter Night

A swift movement of the cultivating breeze, Though not sure if the intoxicating freeze, is a gentle remedy to yearn for warmth Or a slight shocker that could instantaneously bring the heart at a halt. Bright lights with a neon glow, enticing me for an overflow Of what seems to be a festive spirit, that waits to be awakened when the serene setting is like so. Carols grasping me at the buds I call my ears, moving my feet before I can possibly discern if the sound is near. ‘Deck the halls’ I hear in the distance, far away I am but I stop at an instance. To hear that soothing rhythm of tongues, that sway me left to right, in a joyous zeal for the festive season and memorable night. Clarity, I see, and bright stockings draped in a jovial fashion, Great big Santa’s I spot – though I am sure that encounter will never happen. A great idol formed in the colours of red and white, A concept that has controlled the world just as a result of the remembrance of one mere night. Baby Jesus is who they say they celebrate at Christmas; But now for the majority He’s nothing but far away in the distance, In these magical winter nights, With a sharp remembrance of the beautiful wonders I call sight. Such melodies that encapsulate the magical winter nights, With a sharp remembrance of the beautiful wonders, I call sight.

By Emmie Saidi

Chair by the Fire

Frost crawls along the windows It’s not dispelled by the burning fire within. I glance to my right and see the empty chair Looking back at the flames, a numbness takes over my body. I’m outside, snow falling like ash Setling in my hair, on my cothes It seeps into my skin. I stare through the frosted window To see you standing by the warming fire We’re dancing by the radio Ignoring the static. In longing for the past I place my hand on the window Ice bites into my palm. The pattern of frost so intricate Each fine line drawing a masterpiece of frsgility

That surely would break with one touch. Seeing your wide smile and perfect dimples I feel a break A tear deep within me And I know no matter how much time passes This wound will never heal.

Now you watch me from above as I Fail to eat Fail to sleep Fail to go even an hour

Where you don’t flood my mind: Thoughts of your bubbling laugh Echoing around our candlelit hall Thoughts of the isolation while sitting on a pew In the black dress you had bought me On our last Christmas together. I never wore it for you Until your only view was from above Looking down at me with what I pray is love. They tell me they understand They look me in the eyes only days after you were taken from me And they tell me they understand my pain That I am not alone. But now they’re busy singing ‘Deck the Hall.’ They’re laughing and screaming ‘Happy Holidays!’ Such a foreign word It leaves a bitter taste on my tongue Because you were the only one With whom I was ever truly myself I was never alone when I was with you But I will be for evermore.

By Heather Young

Magical Winter Nights

I was walking along the street through the white mushy snow. The lamps were glowing upon my wolf made coat. The houses had frost housing windows with clear white snow covering the roofs. It was late, all the houses were dark. THere wasn’t a peep of light coming from the frosty windows. The streets were quiet and foggy, and my shoes were soaked from the wet streets, There wasn’t a sound coming from the old buildings. I could hear the crunch of snow beneath my feet and the whistle of the cold wind rushing past me. I was almost home. I was imagining the toasty fire warming my freezing hands,

With a cup of hot chocolate. It would be the perfect combo. I was a few steps away from home. And there it was.

I got my cold key out and put it in the lock then twisted and swiftly opened the door to have a strong flow of heat gush into me.

By Ollie Turnbull

Winter Night

Darkness softly shrouds, The fire fades, and once again Ash seeketh ember.

By Angus Johnstone