This document is a collection of poems submitted for the 2015 National Poetry Competition in Ireland. It includes the table of contents, foreword, and 23 poems by various authors. The foreword congratulates the many students who participated, notes it was difficult to choose winners from so many great entries, and thanks the teachers for their support of the young writers. The poems cover various themes and range in style.

1.
1
National
Write
a
Poem
Competition
Prize-­‐giving
2015
Laois
Education
Centre
Wednesday,
30th
September
www.pdst.ie

2.
2

3.
3
Contents
Page
Table
of
Contents
03
Foreword
04
In
the
House
of
a
Dying
Man
–
Caoimhe
Devaney
05
Leather
Football
–
Jonathon
Johnston
06
Where
am
I?
–
Cian
Donlan
07
Spilled
Ink
–
Danielle
Ní
Mhoráin
08
Our
Generation
–
Serena
Dervishi
09
Senior
Cycle
–
Minja
MacLennan
10
I
am
the
Air-­‐Maker
–
Aaliyah
Onalimi
11
All
Eyes
on
Her
–
Louise
Evans
12
A
Poem
about
a
Friend
–
Aidan
Crilly
13
August
–
Maria
Cullen
14
Requiem
–
James
Cox
15
Apology
Note
–
Úna
Faller
16
His
First
Flight
–
Eli
Byrne
17
Religion,
They
Said,
That’s
Why
They
Did
It
–
Isabel
Quinn
Standing
at
the
Crossroads
–
Kim
Chan
The
Hair-­‐Raising
Reasons
of
the
Late
Student
–
Matthew
Hamer
18
19
20
The
Major
at
War
–
Anna
Ní
Dhubhchonna
Together
–
Orla
McDonagh
21
22
Wonder
–
Ruth
Guildea
23

4.
4
Foreword
The
English
Team,
PDST,
is
delighted
to
take
this
opportunity
to
celebrate
the
wonderful
achievements
of
our
students
and
teachers
in
the
2015
National
Poetry
Competition.
We
received
over
seven
hundred
entries
from
schools
all
around
the
country,
and
it
was
exceptionally
difficult
to
choose
the
winning
poems
from
so
many
fantastic
entries.
We
were
really
impressed
by
the
standard
set
by
the
students.
It
was
obvious
to
us
that
they
put
a
lot
of
thought
and
effort
into
their
work
and
we
hope
that
they
continue
to
write
more
poetry,
and
to
make
continued
submissions
to
the
magazine
in
the
future.
We
would
like
to
thank
all
the
teachers
involved,
for
the
giving
of
their
time,
guidance
and
enthusiasm
to
these
young
writers,
in
encouraging
them
to
embark
on
their
creative
journey.
We
would
also
like
to
thank
Poetry
Ireland
for
their
contribution,
and
a
special
thanks
to
Margaret
Mary
Grant
in
Laois
Education
Centre
for
all
her
work
in
ensuring
the
success
of
this
year’s
competition.
Poetry
is
when
an
emotion
has
found
its
thought
and
the
thought
has
found
words
-­‐
Robert
Frost.
The
English
Team,
PDST
(Selena
Wilkes,
Claire
Matthews,
Amy
Kilcline,
Marie
Clynes,
Christina
Clarke)

5.
5
1st
Place
–
Senior
In
the
House
of
a
Dying
Man
Fourteen
separate
pills
A
chemical
odyssey,
We
sit
and
watch
mutely
As
he
swallows
each
one.
The
morphine
is
small
and
rounded
The
colour
of
blood
and
milk-­‐coffee.
Rain
blurs
the
window,
The
dying
man
speaks,
and
we
listen
It
takes
three
or
four
sentences
To
thread
sense
on
his
words.
I
have
been
here
before;
Another
dying
man's
house
Where
amber
chemotherapy
Dripped
down
from
the
ceiling.
I
saw
the
months
slowly
shave
All
the
meat
from
his
bones.
But
that
man
is
dead
now,
I
have
seen
him;
His
features
swimming
beneath
His
children's
grief-­‐coloured
faces.
Time
is
strange
in
this
house;
Nostalgia
rattles
in
the
radiators,
A
half-­‐unspoken
ending
Ricochets
in
the
hallways.
Outside,
a
plywood
wheelchair
ramp
Shines
dull
red
in
the
rain.
All
the
family
are
here;
A
whispering
diaspora,
Always
on
the
verge
of
Either
laughter
or
tears.
Caoimhe
Devaney
Holy
Child
Secondary
School
Military Road,
Killiney,
Co. Dublin.
In
the
back
room
they
talk
business,
Atheist
funerals
and
solicitors,
While
I
watch
the
rain
and
think
of
when
I
knew
no
man
who
was
dead.
Now
I
can
only
just
keep
them
On
the
fingers
of
one
hand.
They
said
he
would
die
quickly
The
kind
of
quick
that's
not
instant,
The
kind
of
quick
that
takes
weeks
Weeks
of
half-­‐muffled
pain.

6.
6
1st
Place
–
Junior
Leather
Football
Am
I
kicked,
Beaten,
Crushed
And
trampled?
Or,
Am
I
strong,
Resilient,
Determined
And
undeterred?
I
am
both.
I
am
proof
That,
with
so
little,
We
can
do
so
much.
I
am
proof
That
pleasures
are
simple,
Yet
enduring.
Jonathon
Johnston
Dundalk
Grammar
School
The
Crescent,
Dundalk,
Co.
Louth.

7.
7
2nd
Place
–
Senior
Where
am
I?
I'm
on
my
way
home.
I
take
the
short
cut
through
the
field
as
I
always
do.
I'm
walking
through
dead
grass.
It's
dark.
I
look
up.
Clear
skies.
I
see
countless
bright
lights
peering
in
at
me
from
outside
our
atmosphere,
I
can’t
help
but
let
my
mind
wander
the
cosmos.
That’s
what
we
look
like,
Another
faint
dot
on
an
infinitely
big,
blacker
than
black
canvas,
I
wonder
if
the
stars
look
back
and
think
the
same
thing.
Can
they
see
our
dot?
Do
they
know
we
exist?
Do
they
know
our
struggles,
our
triumphs?
Our
heroes,
our
villains?
Our
freedom-­‐driven
revolutionaries,
our
oppressive
dictators?
Our
saints,
our
sinners?
Our
moments
of
joy,
our
times
of
darkness?
Our
children,
our
scientists,
our
passion,
our
weaknesses?
Do
they
see
what
we
are?
Who
we
were?
What
we’ll
become?
Everyone
you
ever
knew,
and
ever
will
know,
Those
you
love,
you
hate,
those
you
fear,
Everyone
you
make
smile,
you
laugh
with,
Everyone
you
share
your
life
with,
Lived
their
lives
on
this
small
blue-­‐ish
dot.
In
a
sea
of
dots.
In
a
sea
of
seas.
That’s
home.
I
look
back
down
to
the
ground,
Where
the
hell
am
I?
Cian
Donlan
Donabate
Community
College
Portrane
Road,
Donabate,
Co.
Dublin.

8.
8
2nd
Place
–
Junior
Spilled
Ink
Spilled
ink
runs
through
my
veins,
as
I
devour
another
verse
A
subtle
taste
of
word
champagne
and
suddenly
I'm
hooked.
A
paragraph,
like
heroin,
A
novel,
like
crack
cocaine.
A
library,
like
an
alleyway
an
addiction
to
be
restrained.
Between
the
chapters
of
a
book.
The
only
world,
I’m
free,
to
forget
this
earth,
and
all
its
sin,
and
how
it
all
could
be.
Each
book
is
like
a
soul,
composed
of
wishes,
hopes
and
dreams.
So
maybe
that's
a
reason
why
poetry
is
in
my
genes.
Danielle
Ní
Mhóráin
Gaelcholáiste
Ceatharlach
Askea,
Carlow,
Co.
Carlow.

9.
9
Joint
3rd
Place
–
Senior
Our
Generation
Bombarded
thoughts
of
wild
delusions,
Spread
their
arms
to
vile
conclusions.
Hasty
decisions
caused
despair,
Hatred,
revenge
and
no
repair.
Dead,
cold
eyes
stare
in
awe,
They
tempt
the
neck
to
the
devil’s
saw.
Mentality
has
lost
our
reach
to
vitality,
Deep
in
the
caves
of
our
humanity.
To
succeed
and
crash
like
all
the
rest,
Preludes
the
chance
to
be
the
best.
The
valour
and
power
flooding
in
our
blood,
Has
drained
the
brain
with
life’s
black
mud.
All
who
live,
live
to
die,
Both
the
rich
and
those
who
try.
Has
work
closed
our
eyes
from
life?
While
taking
friends
and
family
by
knife.
Enemies
that
lurk
in
the
shadows
of
me,
Are
blinded
bats
with
no
place
to
be.
Miming
behind
with
no
words
to
say,
Welcome
to
the
society
of
our
generation
today.
Serena
Dervishi
St.
Michael’s
Holy
Faith
Finglas,
Dublin
11.

10.
10
Joint
3rd
Place
–
Senior
Senior
Cycle
334
days;
2338hours;
140,280
minutes.
Take
a
minute
To
check,
For
how
long
senior
cycle
Held
you
by
the
neck;
And
asked
of
you
more
than
you
had
to
give.
Live.
‘Life
isn’t
all
about
the
Leaving
Cert.’
But
failure
hurt,
So
you
worked
hard
all
the
same
Upped
your
game;
For
credit
that
didn’t
really
count,
To
count
Your
points
at
the
end
of
the
year.
5
points
short.
10
points
short.
No
one
belongs
here.
Here;
A
playground
where
even
big
kids
get
bullied.
Was
it
worth
Your
time?
Was
it
worth
mine?
1008
minutes,
Spent
Doing
homework
Bent
Over
desks;
Wilted
flowers
Passing
the
hours
Until
summer.
300
late
nights,
Cramming.
Slamming
Exhausted
heads
into
the
cover
of
a
book;
Take
a
closer
look.
Minja
MacLennan
St.
Leo’s
College
Old
Dublin
Road,
Carlow,
Co.
Carlow.
Dreams
of
Martin
Luther
King,
Solving
Algebraic
expressions.
Economic
depressions.
Therapy
sessions.
All
of
this
makes
sense?
What
is
the
conditional
tense?
If
you
would,
If
you
could.
What
would
you
do?
Senior
cycle,
Water
cycle;
Cycle.
Walk.
Run.
Be
free.
But
not
too
free,
Everything
has
a
price.
Be
nice.
But
not
too
nice,
Because
then
you’re
weird.
Stand
up,
Stand
out.
But
watch
your
back;
Break
the
rules
And
they’ll
break
You.
Make
no
mistake.
They’ll
ensure
your
best,
Is
never
quite
Good
enough;
Insist
there’s
fight
Left
in
you
yet.
Students.
Soldiers.
It’s
all
the
same;
All
a
part
of
the
same
sick
game:
Shape
up
or
ship
out.
Are
you
in
or
are
you
out?
One
strike;
Two
strike;
Three.

11.
11
3rd
Place
–
Junior
I
Am
the
Air-­‐Maker
At
first,
their
voices
echo
across
the
fields,
then
suddenly,
I
see
them
coming,
running
closer
and
closer
to
me,
I
look
around
knowing
that
there
is
no
escape,
I
creak
and
twist
but
to
no
avail,
I
am
fastened
in,
rooted
to
this
place.
They
jump
on
me,
I
shudder
with
their
weight
as
they
sit
on
me,
they
pull
at
my
arms,
tearing
my
skin,
not
knowing
the
pain
I
suffer,
I
plead
with
them
to
stop,
groaning
and
whispering,
swaying
with
tiredness,
I
have
no
escape
until
hours
later,
when
they
run
home
and
leave
me
shaken.
Winter
comes,
I
grow
cold
and
colder
still,
wondering
why!
The
icy
cold
unending,
my
gnarled
barren
arms,
bending
and
cracking,
pleading
for
someone
to
help
me,
but
no
one
comes
to
my
aid…
I
stand
alone.
As
always,
the
winter
chill
freezes
me
to
the
core.
The
sun
returns,
bright
yet
distant
as
I
begin
to
thaw.
My
hair
slowly
grows
back
again,
as
warm
breezes
blow
gently
against
my
skin.
I
help
them,
giving
them
air,
yet
it's
never
enough,
they
cut
down
my
friends,
turn
us
into
something
they
sit
on,
use
us
to
create
artificial
leaves
of
paper,
haven’t
they
seen
how
beautiful
our
leaves
are,
like
emeralds
glistening
in
the
morning
dew…
Beauty
lost
in
their
sea
of
greed…
And
it
starts
again,
sitting
on
us,
tearing
our
skin,
never
letting
us
rest.
Aaliyah
Onalimi
Scoil
Chríost
Rí
Portlaoise,
Co.
Laois.

12.
12
Highly
Commended
–
Senior
All
Eyes
on
Her
All
eyes
on
her,
she
enters
the
lobby.
Bell
boys
swoon
at
the
sight.
The
foyer
rumbles,
the
chandelier
glistens
all
eyes
on
her.
She
floats
along
her
gown
made
of
gold,
Chanel
No.5
consumes
the
air.
Guests
mingle,
champagne
pours
glasses
raised
to
the
best
hotel
in
Chicago.
The
Ball
room
opens,
The
sound
of
music
is
heard
the
Ball
has
begun.
Her
mask
is
on
she
enters.
All
eyes
on
her.
Louise
Evans
Donabate
Community
College
Portrane
Road,
Donabate,
Co.
Dublin.

13.
13
Highly
Commended
–
Senior
A
Poem
about
a
Friend
Ignorant
Isis,
oblivious
friend
Unaware
of
the
many
years
left
until
she
meets
her
end
Captivated
by
her
own
irrelevant
plights
Their
next
few
years
are
strung
up
on
pedestals
Draining
the
drama
from
banal,
bland
inconsequential
struggles
Up
and
down,
the
joys
and
loathing
muddle
What
a
way
to
live
Is
it
not
the
best?
The
great
issues
of
the
world
thrown
away
in
zest
While
the
miniscule
narcissistic
personal
moments
are
made
magic
by
the
mind
Teenage
worries
occupying
all
your
time
These
dramas
are
the
greatest
she
will
ever
know
Shakespeare
in
her
heart,
Kavanagh
in
her
soul
Why
bother
with
reality,
banal
and
boring
Where
beauty
is
but
temporary
and
there
is
only
pursuit
of
bliss
When
you
can
live
within
yourself
not
simply
exist?
Carnal
pleasures
and
infatuations
given
great
grandeur
and
love
Small
strife
and
struggles
mean
ceasing
the
flow
of
blood
Quick
lived
romances
extinguished
buried
is
asphodel
and
short
happy
summers,
Models
of
nirvana
and
life
without
tragedy
Which
is
the
greater
muse?
The
dramatic
mind
or
the
bromidic
reality
Though
I
prefer
my
books
fictitious
and
well
written
The
drama
of
vain,
wild
minds
is
a
personal
addiction
My
dramas
are
dull
and
dainty
compared
To
these
hyperbole
people
So
let
them
worry
and
rejoice
while
I
watch
as
a
bird
perched
on
a
steeple.
Aidan
Crilly
Cabinteely
Community
School
Johnstown
Road,
Cabinteely,
Dublin
18.

14.
14
Highly
Commended
–
Senior
August
Absence
makes
the
heart
grow
fonder,
So
I
have
been
told,
I
whisper
in
the
ear
of
August
so
she’ll
be
consoled.
And
so
it
is
the
lack
of
sun
Can
freeze
the
hearts
of
men,
Hold
your
breath,
In
ten
more
months
You’ll
taste
reunion
then.
With
nerves
of
steel
And
girded
loins
She
bade
goodbye
to
spring,
But
none
foresaw
the
horror
That
the
winter
months
would
bring.
Temper
storms
of
thunder
ripped
Her
fragile
stems
apart,
And
wind
destroyed
her
children
Until
mould
grew
on
her
heart.
All
those
who
speak
of
anguish
Must
have
never
seen
the
night,
When
all
that’s
green
is
frozen,
And
the
cold
chokes
every
life.
And
all
those
who
speak
of
longing
Must
have
never
heard
the
tears,
As
the
Spring
weeps
for
her
lifeblood,
And
the
snow
confirms
her
fears.
There
are
months
of
frost
and
longing
Until
justice
can
be
done,
Until
grass
pokes
through
the
snow
drifts
And
the
Spring
and
warmth
are
one.
Maria
Cullen
Loreto
Secondary
School
Spawell
Road,
Wexford,
Co.
Wexford.

15.
15
Highly
Commended
–
Senior
Requiem
Under
an
adamant
ashen
sky;
The
mourners
stood,
braced
Against
the
unyielding
shower
And
the
priest’s
solemn,
resonating
tone.
Encircling
the
grave,
condolences
are
Shared,
red
roses
cast
into
the
darkness,
Resting
upon
the
pine
box,
covered
with
earth
In
the
hope
they
rise
again.
In
the
morning
mist,
they
endured
the
Elements,
the
rain
relentless
And
lamenting,
as
though
heaven
itself
Was
weeping
in
solidarity.
With
sobs
echoing
through
the
twilight,
A
melancholy
music
and
tears
attributed
To
the
life
once
lived.
James
Cox
Clonakilty
Community
College
Clonakilty,
Co.
Cork.

16.
16
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
Apology
Note
come
into
my
arms
little
child
the
war
is
over
and
you
have
made
it
home
the
monsters
under
the
bed
have
been
locked
out
of
your
head
and
love
and
acceptance
have
melted
the
key
come
into
my
arms
little
child
the
steep
climb
is
over
and
the
lanterns
have
been
lit
the
demons
in
your
shadow
have
been
burnt
by
joy
and
curiosity
and
I
will
never
let
them
in
again.
Úna
Faller
Athlone
Community
College
Retreat
Road,
Athlone,
Co.
Westmeath.

17.
17
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
His
First
Flight
(Inspired
by
‘His
First
Flight’,
by
Liam
O’
Flaherty)
Vast…
…Is
the
expanse
that
lies
before
me,
With
its
unforgiving
waves
Billowing
like
The
blue
folds
of
an
infinite
cloak.
Cold…
…Is
the
water
sprayed
upon
me,
As
the
sea
mocks
I
am
tormented
By
myself,
as
fear
of
mine
is
of
The
chasmic
abyss
below.
Outcast…
…Am
I
who
cannot
equal
them,
One’s
family
is
his
comfort
not
To
be
those
who
scorn
and
upbraid,
As
they
tame
winds
and
I
wallow
in
cowardice.
Jagged…
…Are
the
rocks
I
stand
upon,
Not
far
from
the
beckoning
precipice,
Sudden
and
sheer
And
the
crushing
waves
below
that
devour
all.
Infatuated…
…Am
I
with
the
crimson
sun’s
ascent,
It
mirrors
my
ambitions,
though
Dreams
seldom
fulfil
the
desires
Of
the
soul
they
cruelly
taunt.
Starvation…
…Is
upon
I
who
linger
between
Sleep
and
wakefulness;
I
the
Ruination
of
this
family
could
But
now
die,
in
my
weary
gentle
gloom.
Substance…
…Becomes
my
mother’s
shadow,
As
she
brings
my
salvation.
Fish
and
sustenance
is
a
luxury
To
the
hunger-­‐filled
and
helpless.
Unwavering…
…Is
my
mother
as
she
Hovers
smoothly
in
the
air,
eyes
Fixed
upon
me,
who
is
now
leaping
Towards
her,
hunger
displacing
fear.
Plunging…
…Fast
am
I
towards
my
watery
demise,
Deceived
by
my
mother
who
has
Betrayed
me,
the
abomination.
Emotion
overcomes
me
suddenly…but…
…Soaring…
…Am
I
whose
wings
spread
wide
and
Mighty,
conquering
the
elements,
Evading
below
those
that
Seek
to
inflict
wound
upon
me.
Redeemed…
…And
praised
I
have
become,
I
now
treasure
acceptance,
I
The
champion
of
my
terrors,
Master
of
my
first
flight.
Eli
Byrne
FCJ
Secondary
School
Bunclody,
Co.
Wexford.

18.
18
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
Religion,
They
Said,
That’s
Why
They
Did
It
The
room
was
painted
white,
The
walls
to
the
floor
a
ghostly
colour.
My
mother
holding
me,
While
they
pushed
and
shoved.
The
fathers
cried
out,
The
mothers
wept,
And
the
children
clung
to
their
parents
like
a
limpet
does
a
rock.
No
man
nor
woman
could
ease
the
tension,
As
the
doors
were
bolted,
And
the
men
in
uniform
left
the
room.
Silence,
An
eternity
spent
hoping
that
this
was
not
the
end,
That
there
was
another
way,
To
pass
from
this
world,
to
the
next.
A
cloud
appeared,
It
entered
the
room
almost
magically.
Its
wispy
white
colour
Almost
resembled
a
fairy's
light
wings.
It
danced
over
the
men
and
women
dipping
slightly
for
the
children.
As
it
passed
over
their
heads,
something
left
them,
Their
life,
I
suppose.
They
coughed
and
spluttered
then
they
just
fell
to
the
ground,
Like
a
toy
after
its
owner
moved
on
to
another
amusement.
I
watched
with
wonder
as
the
cloud,
Murdered
all
those
families.
Soon
it
flew
over
me,
My
mother
with
a
look
of
horror
on
her
face.
As
she
and
I
coughed
and
spluttered,
Just
like
the
others.
Then
fell
to
the
floor.
Dead.
Like
a
limp
rag.
I
knew
why
they
did
it,
Religion
they
said.
It's
what
they
said
separated
us,
From
living
or
dying.
But
why
take
the
children?
Whose
lives
not
yet
lived,
Innocence
not
yet
stripped
away.
Religion
they
said,
That's
why
they
did
it.
Isabel
Quinn
Santa
Sabina
Dominican
College
Sutton,
Dublin
13.

19.
19
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
Standing
at
the
Crossroads
(Inspired
by
‘The
Road
Not
Taken’,
by
Robert
Frost)
I
stand,
at
this
time
at
a
crossroads,
To
be
someone
who
follows
expectation,
Or
choose
to
be
someone
who
stands
on
her
own
two
feet,
And
sorry,
I
cannot
travel
both,
But
must
choose
the
path
which
is
right
for
me.
Down
one
path,
I
see
a
crowd,
There,
I
am
amongst
them.
Belonging.
This
is
the
road
I
wish
to
go
down,
To
feel
as
if
I,
too,
am
part
of
something,
To
be
among
the
chatter
and
laughing,
all
day
round.
The
other
I
know
is
yearning
for
me,
Begging
for
announce
of
my
attention,
The
road
I
have
ignored
all
my
life,
Resulting
in
time
wasted
and
fountains
of
tears,
All
of
which
will
push
me
to
strive.
But
I
still
stand
here,
at
a
crossroads,
To
be
someone
who
follows
expectation,
Or
chooses
to
stand
here
on
her
own
two
feet,
So
telling
this
with
a
lighted
heart,
I
now
know
the
fate,
I
one
day
hope
to
meet.
To
be
someone
who
stands
on
her
own
two
feet,
Amongst
a
crowd
of
those
who
she
loves,
With
friends,
brothers
and
parents,
And
the
drive
to
do
well
in
the
future,
That
for
me
will
make
all
the
difference.
Kim
Chan
Coláiste
na
Toirbhirte
Ard
Oaibhinn,
Bandon,
Co.
Cork.

20.
20
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
The
Hair-­‐Raising
Reasons
of
the
Late
Student
I
shall
explain
my
lateness
sir,
The
reason
of
it
is,
While
driving
to
school
this
foggy
day,
We
were
hopelessly
lost
in
the
mist.
Aliens
attacked
our
homestead,
An
asteroid
destroyed
our
roof.
We
were
pestered
by
an
irritating
drunkard
And
a
deranged
little
goof.
A
tidal
wave
wrecked
our
garden,
Vandals
vandalized
our
car.
For
three
and
a
half
hours
we
searched
for
my
father,
He
had
never
returned
from
the
bar.
The
road
was
pitted
and
potholed,
Our
car
plummeted
through
a
ravine.
Several
of
us
had
a
gas
attack
Because
my
brother
had
eaten
baked
beans.
Our
dog
chased
after
E.T.,
And
was
dog-­‐napped
by
UFOs,
But
the
actual
reason
why
I’m
late
today
Is
because
I’m
just
way
too
slow.
Matthew
Hamer
St.
Augustine’s
College
Abbeyside,
Dungarvan,
Co.
Waterford.

21.
21
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
The
Major
at
War
(Inspired
by
‘Base
Details’,
by
Siegfried
Sassoon)
Everyone
thinks
it’s
so
easy
for
me
To
give
out
orders
as
if
they
were
free.
But
with
my
job,
that
I
do
quite
well
Comes
with
a
conscience
that
resembles
hell.
Last
week
for
example,
was
particularly
bad
We
lost
fifteen
of
the
best
men
we’ve
ever
had.
The
enemy
guns
wiped
them
out
like
the
blight
When
I
heard
I
knew
I
wouldn’t
get
much
sleep
that
night.
When
I
think
of
the
parents,
children
and
wives
And
everyone
else
in
these
brave
young
men’s
lives.
That
sit
there
grieving
and
heartbroken,
bereft
of
their
joy
I
think
I’d
be
better
off
in
heaven
with
those
poor
young
boys.
Anna
Ní
Dhubhchonna
Gaelcholáiste
Ceatharlach
Askea,
Carlow,
Co.
Carlow.

22.
22
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
Together
Together
we
step
out
into
the
arena
In
perfect
harmony,
In
perfect
rhythm.
Going
over
the
course
in
our
heads
We
focus
in
on
the
first
fence
Everything
else
is
a
blur
Our
minds
are
clear
Counting
down
the
strides
All
sounds
have
vanished
We
are
completely
one.
We
inhale
at
liftoff
Gliding
through
the
air
His
hooves
Graze
the
barrier
The
sound
echoes
through
our
heads
Is
it
the
sound
of
victory
or
defeat?
We
stretch
forward,
Over
the
fence,
Exhaling
as
we
land.
Our
hearts
beat
as
one
The
blood
roars
in
our
ears
Roar
of
the
crowd
We
did
it.
Orla
McDonagh
Presentation
De
La
Salle
Bagenalstown
Secondary
School
Bagenalstown,
Co.
Carlow

23.
23
Highly
Commended
–
Junior
Wonder
Her
mother
threaded
Wonder
into
her
hair,
To
forever
dream
-­‐
Of
wonder
in
the
air.
Her
mother
weaved
Cheer
into
her
tongue,
To
endlessly
sing
-­‐
And
feel
joy
in
each
lung.
Her
mother
laced
Laughter
into
her
hands,
To
eternally
smile
-­‐
Whenever
she
danced.
Her
mother
knitted
Passion
into
her
heart,
To
always
feel
-­‐
Her
love
when
they
were
apart.
Her
father
did
not
agree,
So
he
cursed
his
daughter
And
what
was
to
be.
Her
father
bled
Hate
into
her
veins,
To
evermore
be
-­‐
Shackled
in
skin
chains.
Her
father
beat
Anger
into
her
face
To
never
be
looked
upon
-­‐
Without
disgrace.
Her
parents
crushed
Her
into
shattered
bone,
To
perpetually
live
-­‐
Under
an
engraved
stone.
Ruth
Guildea
Loreto
Secondary
School
Balbriggan,
Co.
Dublin.

24.
24