SECOND PLACE (12 – 15 yrs) : Hannah Glover, 12 yrs old (Yr 8, John O’Gaunt School)
The Mist Was Rising. I Was Lost
The mist was rising. I was lost.
The forest was cold, but there was no frost,
The trees all around me looked exactly the same,
With their twisted, dead branches all creaking my name.
And I could feel hidden eyes just watching my back,
I found a stream to my left, but no sign of a track,
I shouted for help, but I was alone,
And I hadn’t thought to bring my phone.
I made a decision and walked straight ahead,
But the trees didn’t end- they got thicker instead!
My clothes catching on thorns, and my fears rising higher,
I backed away from some brambles, beginning to tire…
My wrinkled hands grasped a branch, and I walked on with a groan,
I found some soft bracken to use as a bed,
And lay down for a short nap to clear my head.
I awoke in a white world- was it winter already?
No! It was spring time- I saw flowers and berries!
Spring turned into summer as I rose to my feet,
My old joints protesting as the sun turned to sleet,
Forever searching for the path to take me home.