Entries to Dorothea Mackellar Poetry Awards 2003

Congratulations to Dominic Walker who won the Primary Section Dorothea Mackellar Poetry Award in 2003 for his poem Moving Cars.

War.
War…War…terrible war
Who needs War ?
Why is War so bad ?
Bombs, guns, death.
It is bad.
Yes, bad it is.
Wind comes, War goes.
The war was bad.
Don’t try to beat War.
By Emmett Brew

One day left.
Day by day I wait and wait
Time is slow for me
One day left
Frustration builds
At last, the day to move.
The house is being sold
Five hundred thousand
Five hundred and five thousand
And so on and forth
The moving truck is here
As it moves away I think I’m moving next !
By Genna Clark

The cycle of the tiger’s life.
The tiger’s green eyes fix on a deer
The tiger lifts a paw and then…crack
The tiger steps on a twig.
The deer flinches but still does not run away.
The tiger pounces in a diagonal way,
But the deer gets away.
The poor tiger stumbles, thirsty and hungry.
The tiger moves on.
The tiger can’t even provide for his own family.
The tiger sees a little stream.
He has a big lap of water before he moves into the desert.
Day after day the tiger struggles but keeps on moving.
Four weeks pass.
The tiger is still walking.
The sand, like sandpaper, is scraping his skin.
The sand gets in his eyes.
It stings.
In the distance he sees the cave his family lives in.
He is almost there.
He collapses on the ground.
His cubs come running up to him.
But it was too late.
The tiger was dead
All that hard work for his family
Is over.
By Alex Marles

Circular moods
Ghastly moonlight weaves round my planet
Followed by the glowing sun.
Whispers in the night.
Morning aroma surrounds my room.
Grey peace.
Midday heat
Hot and scorched,
Blazing my window.
Nowhere to hide.
Warm golden afternoon beauty
Reaches my bed.
Night drifts back in
My room fills with dreams.
Circular moods.
By Oscar Anderson

Seagulls
They fly,
they swoop,
all over the place.
I scare them off with a silly face,
When we’re having picnics they try to steal our food,
And then they move on when they’re in the mood.
By Dominic Willmott

Moving On
Every second
Of every minute
Of every hour
Of every day
Of every century
Of every millennium
We’re moving on.
Every second a ball bounces
Every minute someone walks one hundred feet
Every hour a class starts and ends
Every day a chick turns to a hen
Every year someone turns from 9 to 10
Every century the year of Federation
Every millennium a big celebration.
By Seamus Kavanagh

Sniper
Sentry, standing on a sandy hill,
Everything he sees is still.
But,
He fails to see, the sniper…
Clothed in camouflage gear,
Akin to the sand,
Cradling a black silenced rifle in his gloved hand.
Moving forward, with a viper’s grace,
Soundless as a cat,
Leaving no trace.
Taking careful aim,
Sentry’s back is turned,
Soon his corpse will be burned
Scorched, by the hot summer desert sun.
A few hundred metres away,
The Sniper pulls the trigger.
Sentry hears a ‘crack’
Whips around, then falls slack,
Stiffens,
And sinks slowly to the sandy ground.
Sniper straightens and walks away,
Thinking he could share the fate one day.
Moving on – to perform the grisly ritual again.
By Eric Gardiner

Moving On
Alex wears nappies.
Nina is playing with Barbies.
Lucci is sucking dummy’s.
Philli is eating bugs.
Bob is having an afternoon nap
Astrid is drawing on the walls.
Emily is getting a shoulder rub
Sam is playing in the mud.
But I don’t care anymore because I have moved on from childhood.
By Greta Brewin

Ages, Moving on.
When I was zero, when I was one
I was very, very young
When I was two, I lost a shoe
I fell out of a tree the year I turned three
Four, four, four
I bumped my head into a door, ouch !!!
Five, then six…
I learnt how to mix paint with sticks
Seven, seven, I don’t know where I am,
I think I am in heaven, ah !
That’s the life!
Eight, eight, I went through the gate
I see a cake
Did you know eight is nine’s mate ?
I’m eight, soon to be nine!
Double figures, that’s ten,
Never to be nine again
Eleven – just as fun?
When I am twelve
I could live with elves.
I’ve moved on the line of time.
The end
p.s. We have moved on from the start of the poem to the end !!!
by Celeste Garro

The train
I’m on the train.
I see everything go past.
I see lots of people go past.
I see a person eating a pie.
I see a man doing up his fly.
By Anthony O’Brien

The Long red tape
Step, hop, jump, skip
Oops, I slipped.
Ouch ! Hail – I hope it doesn’t last too long.
I’ve been running for ages
I don’t feel so strong.
Aah ! A sharp turn.
Spin through a paddle, slip,…hop,…burn
Yes, the long red tape
I really hope I’m not too late !
By Lucci Meagher

A Bug.
A bug flies when it is moving on.
On its back is blue and red
It is in the fog.
By Leah Polycarpou

The trees are blowing.
The trees are blowing
Water howling in the storms reach
The ant was shuffling through it all
Shuffle, shuffle…
As I turn to page three hundred and nine
I sigh, “Why do I turn the page ?”
The image is broken
The trees now are still to me
Water has stopped
The ant is gone forever.
By Evelyn Hamilton

A break at the table.
At first, when I sit down at the table
I join the dots as well as I’m able
From one to two to three to four
I keep going faster but there’s so many more
The table’s burning,
The lead’s grinding
My mind’s blowing,
My head’s exploding
Ooops…
I just broke my pencil.
By Calum Lindsay-Field

Magic’s love moves on.
Magic’s love can
Swirl
Through the world
Magic swirls lovingly
Through the world
It moves on and on
If it moves to you
You should learn to share
Your heart’s kindness
As it moves on and on
Through the world.
By Estelle Morrissey

What to do?
Stuck in a pothole of the road of life.
What to do ? What to do ?
The decision has to be made now !
Do I sit on my life ?
Stay and wait for something to happen ?
Or
Take up the challenges of the road of life
Maybe,
Possibly,
I’ll turn back and struggle to safety
But would I be content with that ?
By Astrid Connelly

Moving On
There is always a time
When you are all alone
And you think, think about life.
What has happened
What is happening
And, what is going to happen.
How you’re moving on
And how you’ve moved on
And then,
You stop thinking
And move on to something else.
By Ilaria O’Brien

Moving Cars
A cloud of cars, moving down the freeway
Once you reach them there is no room for leeway
Over smacking byways
And reaching flyways.
Sweeping, swearing
Accelerating, breaking
Moving through the crowd
Fast…a blur when one passes
A swarm of bees zooming down a road.
Blinded by a superficial reason
Where is everyone going…
Why ?
By Dominic Walker

Roller blading.
I roller blade on the path, very fast
The breeze goes through my hair
I go in circles
Round and round
I see dogs barking
I see cats meowing
I see houses
And lots of trees
Leaving them behind
As I go very fast,
With the breeze making me cool
Sometimes I zig zag
Sometimes I go straight
Sometimes I go sideways
And sometimes I stop to rest
By Alessia Castello

Moving On
We all move on one way or another
e move every day
Even the present second
Quickly flies away
Sometimes interesting…
Sometimes not…
Even sad.
There’s no way to avoid
The wheel of the march of time
Always we hope for the best
Moving on is like a story
You don’t know what happens on the next page.
By John Pace

Addendum…Two extra Poems about Mums.

My Mum loves me
I love her too
She gave me life
She makes me happy
When I am sad
She cares for me
She feeds me.
I think she is a saint
I really love my Mum.
By Dominic Walker

My Mother is a protector
My mother is a counsellor
My mother is a brave trooper
Adventurously, mother is my explorer
My mother is my spirit lifter
My mother loves me in the most loving way you can
And I love my mother equally
My mum is my hero.
By Astrid Connelly

Last Updated: Thursday, June 03, 2004 3:15:01 PM