Christmas Poem Competition 2019 Results

And that’s a wrap!

The whole team at Poem Analysis would like to thank everyone that submitted a poem for our Christmas Poem Competition 2019. We had some great poems that really brought out the different aspects and types of Christmas different people have. It’s been a real pleasure to read all of the poems and it brings great pleasure to award one lucky aspiring poet $100 cash and $100 to the charity of their choosing.

The Results

In order to find the winner, we got some of our team of poetry experts to rank their three favorite poems that were entered.

• Will – Will created PoemAnalysis.com back in 2015 and has a team of poetry experts helping him analyse poems from the past and present. As well as managing PoemAnalysis.com, Will works as a Technical Specialist in Automotive Transmission Control and Calibration.
• Emma – Emma graduated from East Carolina University with a BA in English, minor in Creative Writing, BFA in Fine Art, and BA in Art Histories. Literature is one of her greatest passions which she pursues through analysing poetry on Poem Analysis.
• LJ – Lee-James, a.k.a. LJ, has been a Poem Analysis team member ever since November 2015, providing critical analysis of poems from the past and present. Nowadays, he helps Will manage the team and the website.
• Jack – Jack is undertaking a degree in World Literature and joined the Poem Analysis team in 2019. Poetry is the intersection of his greatest passions, languages and literature, with his focus on translation bridging the gap.

In terms of ranking and points:

• For ranking 1st, 3 points
• For ranking 2nd, 2 points
• For ranking 3rd, 1 points

and the Winner is….Henri Fotso with Master Piece!

Congratulations to Henri Fotso on his poem, Master Piece. Henri is actually 12 years old, which makes it even more incredible how amazing this poem is. Here’s what Henry had to say about his poem Master Piece:

This poem highlighted importance of little, but significant, elements, moments and symbols in our life. People change and forget the true meaning of Christmas.

Upon winning the competition, we are happy to have sent Henri $100 cash, as well as donate $100 (£80) to the charity of his choice: in this case, Make a Wish Foundation.
You can read the full poem, Master Piece, below:

We will be analyzing this poem very soon, getting some insight into the poem from Henri himself too, so be sure to stay up to date on Poem Analysis and follow us on Twitter and Facebook to be the first to know when this happens!

Feedback of all the Poems Entered

It’s annoying that everyone can’t win this competition, as we really had some great entries. For this reason, here are some of the reasons why we liked the poems we ranked for in the above table:

Maddi Clase’s Psych Ward Halls

Psych Ward Halls

At the first snowfall of winter,
Teens crowd around windows and look out.
There are tears,
Especially from the younger ones.
Especially from those furthest from home.

Snow here does not mean merriment-
A festive season spent in love and laughter.
The cold weather spells long and treacherous drives,
A drive some families, with broken hearts, cannot undertake.

This is
Winter in the hospital.
This is winter when you can’t be trusted at home, can’t be
Safe.

This is Christmas, and as the big day dawns,
Those who remain in confinement wake with heavy hearts.
Some don’t want to lift the fork of their Christmas dinner.
Some didn’t expect to live to this year’s festivities.

All wish they were waking in their own beds, away from
This.

‘Merry Christmas!’
Cry the nurses,
Shrieking voices,
As they do their morning obs.
A more brazen child than me tells them
‘Shut up’,
Another swears.

And me?
I’m crying this Christmas,
In these psych ward walls.

Our Team’s Feedback

Jayali Peiris’s Entry

Henri Fotso’s Master Piece

Master Piece

A boy of 3 steps up to his master piece,
The vibrance of the sparkled tinsle,
And the glowing flickering lights
Dazzle his joy filled eyes,
While his morphed reflection shines in baubles,
Which lay supspended from the emerald ruffles.
As he awaits his Christmas surprise.

That Christmas and 6 more,
Had sparks of festive spirit,
Till a phone and computer consumed him,
And the green he dreamed of before,
Was no longer the tree.

Winter rolled by many years later,
The boy now a man and a ginger wisp on his chin,
He had his own 2 boys and girl,
But not a spark of spirit,
Did he share from within.

He awakes one Christmas morning at 48,
To a glum and miserable silence,
Alone in a house where there was once 5,
He is covered in a humbug hide,
No lights no decoration no tree,
No jangly jangly bells nor reindeer,
To signify a merry sleigh ride.

He opens the dull curtains,
To see the white blanket all around,
Wrap around children as they play,
He looks and scours the piles of snow,
In search to look at the town statue,
However a Christmas tree is in his way.

Grabbing his grey hat, grey coat, grey shoes,
He heads out to the winter world,
The snow cracks and crunches under his feet,
The gate creaks open, he approaches with care,
Now the two come together, eye to star,
Though they thought they wouldn’t again meet.

A man steps up to his master piece,
The vibrance of the sparkled tinsle,
And the glowing flickering lights
Dazzle his joy filled eyes,
While his morphed reflection shines in baubles,
Which lay supspended from the emerald ruffles.
As he recives his Christmas surprise.

Our Team’s Feedback

Clare and Claire’s Entry

Christmas creates curses and blessings, highlighting haves and have-nots.

Creative PR pushes Frozen plastic tat into warm little hands.

What would Greta say?

New year’s overdraft will occur as bitter milk to swallow. Follow

#FridaysForFuture, let your kids off school as you add to landfill.

What would Greta do?

Politicians; professional rogues prorogue the uncomfortable truths and

say they’re spending to ‘tackle climate change’ – oh the irony of

a Magic Money Tree.

Families torn like discarded wrapping paper; their dystopian

futures battling against the cold or fleeing from the flames.

Shame on you decision makers.

Greta might be the change.

Our Team’s Feedback

Tom Jackson’s Entry

Cards in each mailbox,
angel, manger, star and lamb,
as the rural carrier,
driving the snowy roads,
hears from her bundles
the plaintive bleating of sheep,
the shuffle of sandals,
the clopping of camels.
At stop after stop,
she opens the little tin door
and places deep in the shadows
the shepherds and wise men,
the donkeys lank and weary,
the cow who chews and muses.
And from her Styrofoam cup,
white as a star and perched
on the dashboard, leading her
ever into the distance,
there is a hint of hazelnut,
and then a touch of myrrh.

Our Team’s Feedback

Benjamin Ede’s Are You Coming Home

Are You Coming Home

Are coming home for christmas?
We now tire from keeping steps of your shadow,
Hope some playing children trip on the box of silence
You hid by road for long now.

Are coming home for christmas?
All that’s left to remind of you:
The ruffles from heaps of dry leaves
Under the cherry tree drifts like loneliness;
Where you often sit and gaze the fading twilight,
While you twist some chords of hope on mama.

If you are coming home for christmas,
Please get me some white woolish robe,
The magic rope,
A flying box,
Some soothing salt
That’s stolen your heart all these years.

Hope you are coming home for christmas?
Mama’s eyes now wear from watching the road
Blisters on her lips, count cuts of mistaken calls of your name.
Mama told me, men are impatient. Papa couldn’t wait any more.
She also said you looked just like me-
The shadow waking in the dawns of my eyes each time she stares inside,
And fears losing me too to the road, retracing your steps.
Hope you are coming home for christmas?

Our Team’s Feedback