August
15, 1994
-
Marylin Shaw, Surrey, British
Columbia -- The Little Leader (shown below)
-
Florence E. Brewis, Burnaby,
British Columbia, Mountain God (shown below)
-
Dora Preston, Vancouver, British Columbia,
Ashes
-
Gregory Wm. Gunn, London, Ontario, Empty Shell
-
Florence E. Brewis, Burnaby, British Columbia,
Soliloquy
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Robert Lorenzetti, Vancouver, British Columbia,
The Leaving
-
Cathy Buburuz, Regina, Saskatchewan, Television
Revolution
-
Dr. Glen D. Wheeler, Vancouver, British Columbia,
Laughter
-
Robert Lorenzetti, Vancouver,
British Columbia, The Shadow of Love (shown
below)
-
Alan Frame, Youngstown, Ohio, Sanctuary
-
Dora Preston, Vancouver, British Columbia,
Passing the Bucks
-
Bal Sethi, Prince George, British
Columbia, A Special Face.
Honourable Mentions: None.
FIRST PLACE POEM
The Little Leader
By Marylin Shaw
Surrey, British Columbia
His parents solflessly lent him
To our arms for us to hold,
And for hours we just cuddled him,
The babe of twelve days oild.
Whkle Grandpa stroked soft baby cheeks,
I examined tiny toes,
And that infant actually focused on us,
As we all discussed his nose!
We talked about his future,
We made such fancy plans –
"He's sure to do something special
With those large and elegant hands."
And love wove her magic tighter,
Untethered and unabashed,
And, a little child had led us –
A tiny boy named Nash.
Copyright
(c) 2004 for the author, all rights reserved.
SECOND PLACE
POEM
Mountain God
By Florence E. Brewis
Burnaby, British Columbia
Nearly invisible at times
the trail twists upward
through the dust-green cactus,
maguey and desert gorse:
carefully,
my little horse
steps between the boulders.
"It leads up to the summit,"
the old man told me<
black eyes squinting at the yellow sky –
black hair long upon his shoulders.
He spat, stared at the mountain,
shook his head.
"We never go there now, Senor," he said.
Blue-shadowed
in the broad deep valley
far below,
the tiny village lies quiescent,
a humble offering to the mountain god:
I hesitate,
before my eyes the staggling trail
becomes a ledge
against a rugged bluff of rock –
the loose red gravel slides
and tumbles to the edge:
cautiously
my little horse moves forward.
Around the bend a level shelf,
a place to rest at last,
even a few blades of grass:
then I see the track comes to an end –
a huge cascade of boulders
blocks the way
an avalanche from the past;
and, half-hidden in the mass
the entrance to a cave.
I scramble upward, eager to explore,
climb through the opening,
jump down to the sandy floor:
so dark so cool.
I peer into the gloom,
there stands a block of stone
ten feet in height;
a carven image, very old
and as I stare
from unknown source – a pallid light
appears, and in the air
odour of incense. I am cold:
I shudder as the ray illuminates the face
and fires the turquoise eyes
that glitter into mine:
then I discern the altar at its base,
dark-stained – and at my feet there lies
a pit! I pull away, my pulse is pounding
cold sweat on my brow –
I understand why no one comes here now!
Copyright
(c) 2004 for the author, all rights reserved.
NINTH PLACE
POEM
The Shadow of Love
By Robert Lorenzetti
Vancouver, British Columbia
I run in the shadow of your love.
It is longer or shorter than I,
Yet dances with my own rhythms.
It shelters me from cold or heat,
To give me solace in my loneliness.
It is with me always;
Pursuing me,
Subduing me.
It has become larger than myself;
Consuming me,
Presuming me,
Down the byways of my life.
Copyright
(c) 2004 for the author, all rights reserved.
