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.