Young Poet Laureate for Herefordshire
Talented youngster Sapphire de Sousa Stayton, from Ross-on-Wye, has been by chosen by Herefordshire Libraries to be the first ever Young Poet Laureate for the county.
T he 12-year-old performed in the final judging event at The Courtyard Centre for the Arts on Thursday, June 18, competing against four other short-listed young poets in front of a live audience and a panel of judges.
It was a nerve wracking final and a close fought competition. The other finalists were Maddie Watts and Lottie Mapp, both from John Masefield School in Ledbury, Katherine Jenkins from St Richards School Bromyard, and Gabrielle Johnson from Hereford Waldorf School.
Sapphire, who goes to Haberdashers Monmouth School for Girls, was amazed by her win and said she was so happy that her mum had persuaded her to enter the competition. “The understated expression of surprised delight on Sapphire's face when her name was announced was a poetic moment in itself,” said Mick Ligema, the council’s assistant cultural services manager, who was one of the judges.
The Competition opened in February this year and 28 young hopefuls aged between 11 and 19 submitted four of their own poems with one on the theme of “heroes and heroines”. “I was so impressed with the standard of the entries” said Anne-Marie Dossett, librarian and organiser of the competition. “We seem to have lots of talented young poets in Herefordshire,” she added.
Sapphire will be in post for a year. She will perform her poems at the Youth Games in July and at the prestigious Ledbury Poetry Festival on Monday, July 6, at 1.30pm at a free event called Out Loud. Her winning “Heroes” poem will be made into a postcard especially for National Poetry Day which will be distributed throughout the West Midlands. Throughout the year she will get meet other poets and have the chance to perform alongside them.
The competition was organised by Herefordshire Libraries, Poetry on Loan and The Courtyard Centre for the Arts, and will run again next year to find the second Young Poet Laureate for Herefordshire.
Here are three of Sapphire's Peoems:
Heroes
Thunderbirds are go, to infinity and beyond,
Up up and away, it’s morphine time,
Once more unto the breach dear friends,
We will fight them on the beaches,
I may be a weak and feeble woman,
I came, I saw, I conquered.
All these famous speeches from those special people’s mouths.
One huge leap for mankind, and I have a dream.
Some are cartoon comic heroes,
Some are puppets on strings, some are monarchs,
Some great leaders, some are yours, imaginary.
But be they men, women, dead or alive,
Modern or old fashioned,
They are united, once and for all,
They are heroes for us, we must heed their call.
Come on puss, breakfast time,
Goodnight my baby girl,
I will see you in the morning,
Woof, meow,
Go and do your homework, Now it’s time for your bath,
Come on it’s time for bed; don’t ride without your helmet,
It’s time to go to school.
All those famous speeches from those special people’s mouths,
Come on go and brush your teeth and go and feed the dog.
Some are mums, some are dads,
Some are even your pets, they don’t have to be famous to be a hero,
They don’t have to wear a red cape,
Heroes can come in all shapes and sizes,
And I bet that you are someone’s hero too.
Lost
When the wind is high and the waves they tower,
Higher, higher, higher, higher
And the Church bell swings his great brass head,
Eastward, Westward, sounding, sounding
All the people living in nearby houses,
Quaking, quailing, Quaking, quailing,
And the dogs on the hill above by the bay,
Howling, yowling, baying, crying
Afraid of what lies far away out at sea.
But I in my nightgown walk down by the shingles,
Singing softly, softly, singing
Calling for a breeze to carry me away,
Calling, pleading, asking, pleading
To the far away land of Lyonesse
But I need to go there and run through the hills,
Laughing, smiling, singing, smiling
And I need to go there and ride through the grass
Laughing, riding, singing, riding
But I cannot go there, I cannot run free,
Grass swaying, flowers, dancing
I must stay here in the land of men
Looking wishing, hoping, dreaming
Of my stunning lost land of Lyonesse.
Spring
The wind was a light as a swan’s downy feather,
The sky was as blue as a tropical sea,
All the birds were a-singing whilst lining their nests
And the silken green grass was dancing for me.
The dragonflies waltz with the reeds on the lake side,
And the ripples from fish seem to tickle the shore,
Butterflies tiptoe round roses and daisies,
And the trees were adorned with a blossomy shawl.
The sun slipped away and the fox started prowling,
A curtain was drawn across aquamarine sky,
The stars flickered on with the moon as their leader,
The whole world slept and the owl wondered why.
30 minutes of time
Boredom. What a boring word,
A boring word for a boring thing,
I have half and hour to wait,
And I have NO FOOD on my plate!
You may say “What a terrible rhyme that was”
Or “let’s go see what other guys wrote!”
But that’s the thing you see,
You may make fun of me,
For my terrible poetry!
I would do better rhymes
But I haven’t got the times,
Are newspapers really redundant?
I sat down about 20 minutes ago,
Thinking I would write a great poem,
With excellent rhymes,
And good English skills.
But look what I have come up with,
This bunch of strung up words,
I wonder why I started my poem like that,
With a boring old word,
Boredom.
