Flash contest #21: Write a poem about your favorite place to be
The week commencing August 17th (Daily Creativity Prompt #106) was our twenty-first week of Flash Contests. The prompt asked our entrants to write a poem about their favorite place to be. The over-fifty entries we received ranged from poetry about the comfort of one’s own room, to vacation spots in Hawaii, to family homes, to the peacefulness of nature, and much more! We greatly enjoyed reading all of the entries we received, as well as the happy feeling that accompanied them. Well done to all of our entrants; and a special congratulations to our Winners and Honorable Mentions, listed below. Read on past the list of winners to experience the Winners’ work for yourself!
Hawaii by Analise Braddock, 9 (Katonah, NY)
My Favorite Place To Be by Georgia Marshall, 11 (Marblehead, MA)
Cherish the Temporary by Reagan Ricker, 13 (Coto de Caza, CA)
My Favorite People by Chloe Song, 12 (Lexington, MA)
A Place Yet To Be by Anushka Trivedi, 10 (Silver Spring, MD)
In the Mountains by Quinn Peacock Brush, 10 (Denver, CO)
The Observation Deck by Nicholas Buckley, 13 (Wilmington, MA)
Winter in my Bed Nova Macknik-Conde, 8 (Brooklyn, NY)
My Room by Julia Marcus, 13 (Culver City, CA)
Perfect For Me by April Yu, 12 (East Brunswick, NJ)
Analise Braddock, 9
Where sunscreen is your friend,
Smells of salt and coconut invade your nose,
Crish, crash goes the waves as you bravely venture out into the sea,
To relax and feel good vibes.
The place to escape from all your thoughts and worry
To find new outside old, lemonade ice cream and fruit punch swamp the area.
Cool breezes mounting over you,
Water flooding around in the grotto,
The perfect places in Hawaii
My Favorite Place To Be
Georgia Marshall, 11
There are many places I like to be.
I like the Victorian mansion that is my grandparents’ house.
With its richly painted portraits,
its cozy, lively rooms, its tree filled backyard
with shafts of honeyed light.
I like the friendly country home that is my cousins house.
With its green backyard pond,
you can hear the frogs singing for you.
Its cool river across the street,
you jump off rocks and float into the chill-boned depths of water.
Its bountiful berry bushes,
you stick your hands in, then pull them back with handfuls of sour-sweet berries.
I like the hot sunny continent that is Australia,
With its creek-filled camping trips,
Full of warm crackling fires, singing their songs of smoke and flame.
Its marching band of that is the morning birdsong,
making my head thrum.
Its people who I get to see,
with their twangy Aussie accents.
I like the rickety, old-fashioned town that is my home.
With its rich history that fills every household.
An old barn attached to our house.
The one my mother and I dream of fixing up.
Its empty parking lots,
where my brother and I ride in his brand-new, bright-green kiddie car.
Its friendly village roads,
full of window boxed flowers and mossy trees.
But the place I like most of all,
is wherever my family is.
My family is my kind-hearted mother,
always around to give me a hug and a kiss.
My strong, friendly father,
who brings us on adventures.
My sweet, dimpled brother,
a lively bundle of energy,
always ready to play and stick up for me.
They are the place I like most of all.
Cherish the Temporary
Reagan Ricker, 13
Even though there’s a mysterious beauty in the
the way a crinkled leave flirtatiously brushes against your shoulder
a last, yet oddly cheerful goodbye
the quiet warble of a bird trembling with raw power
the soft, grainy texture that oozes its way into tiny toes
sand being kissed by the playful ocean again
the hardened moon a sphere of cheese hanging by a slim thread
or even the way
the mountains strain and reach the light of dawn
just so it can be bathed in a shimmering golden light only for a few seconds
before the peach rose blossom fades back into a fake blue
I’ve learned that I most enjoy the quiet comfort of my room
glow in the dark stars placed by careless hands
painted light switches
a rainbow made of acrylic paints
old seltzer cans overfilled with dull pencils and crammed with stubby erasers
Empty cups stained with very berry smoothie on my nightstand
A tapestry hides a crack in the wall where
I threw my phone just a little too hard and too far
My bookshelf is filled with worn, feathered pages marked with thoughtful dog ears
I only own one bookmark and it’s missing
A teddy bear
When I squeeze it I can smell days in the park and the lilac scent of softener
and it’s simply the best when I crack my shutters open
and see a soft pattering of rain
The thunderstorm’s hand tapping on my window
My hot cocoa cup has 4 marshmallows
I’ve eaten one and the other 3 melted down into something unrecognizable
My doodle notebook reminds me that I wanted to be a
Astronaut, explorer, archaeologist, race car driver, video game designer
my dad says I should get a corporate job
Nature will stay as long as we take care of it
But no matter how many times we nurture childhood it fades away
Like it never was there in the first place.
My Favorite People
Chloe Song, 12
I sit here in my favorite place
Not by any oceans
Not floating in space
But with my people of connected emotions
Cross Country season bibs
Nights in bed
My sister and I
Changing in fitting rooms
Sunday drives to the mall
Checking price tags in fume
My mom and I
Sitting in the study
We figure all day
Difficult problems test our logic
My dad and I
It’s like a gift
Wrapped up wherever I go
So no matter where I am
I’m reminded to know
My favorite place
Isn’t a somewhere
It’s a sister
A Place Yet To Be
Anushka Trivedi, 10
Unlocked from a cage
Able to fly free.
No rain to wet our wings;
No snow to sting our feathers;
No wind to hold us back.
Turn into stories to tell.
This place is yet to be.
Where everyone is free.
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