Her Head Plunged Into

Her Head Plunged Into

1st Place - Junior


Her head plunged into

the water.

Lost in translation,

she looked closer,

for floating answers.

Answers sink, when they are

searched for,

And so will you.

Everyone is an

answer to a long drawn out question,

in someone’s idea.

Who are they?

Is to sink?

Is to learn?

Is to death?

There are no lifeboats

in such murky


Eerie to the unknown.

No opalescent dreams descend here.

Only wrangled words.

That do not breathe,

thus harder to find.

She awoke from the trance.

No tears needed.

The answers streamed down her face.

Sophie Cullen

Notre Dame Secondary School

Upper Churchtown Road


Dublin 14

2ndPlace - Junior


Squatting by the tree

An old frog observes the faces

Hidden in the clouds

Eoin Hill

Holy Family Community School


Co. Dublin

3rd Place - Junior

New York

In a moment,

I am the bustling crowds,

Filling the streets with

Noise and humanity

I am a minute,

On a subway train,

The metal rattling,

The sound of singers,

Singing their lives away

Until the next station

I am the day,

That the sun shines

On frozen leaves

Walking from winter

Welcoming spring,

And hot dogs

I am the week

I spent, admiring the

Looming buildings

Over me, as

I shuffled

Through the south

I am the month,

That I spent

Embracing the madness

Pulsating to the music

Of George Gershwin’s

Rhapsody in Blue

I am the year,

I spent wishing

That every second

I could spend in

That crazy city,

Beautiful city

That is

New York

Highly Commended - Junior


His spidery caress

Reaches for me,

Corrupting my dream

and fantasies.

His feathery touch

In the shrieking silence,

Vein wrenching crash

As the torment commences

The endless charade

Of smiles and laughter,

Bitter-sweet smiles,

Bone chilling laughter.

He stands like an avenging angel,

Dark and frightening eyes,

Wings of red tipped daggers,

Whispers of vague goodbyes and faint sighs.

Death won’t wait.

He’ll come.

Whenever, wherever,

When you least expect it…

Death won’t wait.

He’ll come.

Waad Ahmed

Notre Dame Secondary School


Dublin 14

Highly Commended –Junior

This Shore

Ashen sand

Metallic cold,

Wind bites

Sea sings,

Salt lips

This shore has rhythm,

It keeps the time I will never find,

Until the music of the waves fades

And I am forgotten….

Colm Keady Tabbal

Seamount College


Co. Galway

Commended - Junior

Young Love Never Lasts

The feeling I get when he holds my hand,

I get butterflies, I can barely stand,

But young love never lasts.

His hugs are as warm as the sun,

On a summers day having fun,

But young love never lasts.

He makes me laugh and smile,

For him I’d run a mile,

But young love never lasts.

Every time I’m with him my heart skips a beat,

I love him so much, I would never leave,

But young love never lasts.

I hope our love will last forever,

And one day you too will endeavour,

But young love never lasts.

His love for me is leaving now,

I wonder to myself, “But how?

Because young love never lasts

Hannah Donohue

Ratoath College


Co. Meath

Commended - Junior

Letter to Parents Volume 13

My self- imposed conversation ban

Is still in force because I can

Communicate with you and Dad

By means of pen and refill pad.

For reasons random I’ve chosen rhyme

To convey my thoughts to you this time.

Please treat my letter with respect

And do not scan it for defect.

I’ll now outline some simple rules

To be used by you and other fools

Who simply fail to comprehend

That life is difficult at this end.

Your little girl has grown up fast.

Its time you acknowledged this when asked

To listen to her personal view

I know much more than you two do.

So here’s a list of don’ts and do’s

Which peace-loving parents should always use

When making attempts to harmonise

With persons who are young and wise.

Please don’t engage in public display

Of affection or love in any way.

Such behaviour is totally cheesy

And honestly makes me feel quite queasy.

When chauffeuring my friends and me

Efficiently from A to B

Please resist the strong temptation

To involve yourself in our conversation

Your attempts at witty repartee

Are not the thing when out with me

No need for the Spanish Inquisition

It’s for us to talk and you to listen

Don’t sit in judgment of my friends

You know nothing of current trends

In matters fashion you provide the money

But your sense of style

Is just not funny.

When you see my teachers in the distance

Please follow my lead and show resistance

Their company you seem to crave

Judging by your exuberant wave.

If you wish to gain respect

There are certain things I do expect.

Please procure a classy car

And a Hollister voucher would go far.

Sleepovers could become a weekly treat

And pedicures for my aching feet

Designer labels are essential

In the fulfillment of my true potential.

Terms and conditions to these rules apply

And just as soon as you comply

My silence ends, I’ll speak your praises

And view your faults

As passing phases.

Aoife Nic Ionnrachtaigh

Coláiste Íde

Baile an Ghóilín

An Daingean

Co Chiarraí

Commended - Junior

The Car Starts

The lights flash and he drives away.

That’s him gone for the rest of the day.

When he comes home he looks like he’ dead

He trots upstairs and falls into bed.

He’s never around when I have something to say.

He has no time for him and me to play.

Even on holidays he has somewhere to be.

‘Places to go, things to see.’

Times are tough, that I know.

But every day he has to go.

The lights come on and the car starts leaving.

My mum always says, ‘You’ll see him this evening.’

But when he comes home I’m already sleeping,

Having that dream of the car leaving.

Oliver Ward

St. Columba’s College


Co. Donegal

Commended - Junior


The cold, hard floor is a comfort,

Sitting child-like in a trance,

The world is bigger now and

I don’t have to worry.

I am only a child.

Complication is a foggy dream,

I don’t need to fret.

My little place calms me.

Everything is taller and I am not expected to understand.

At the age of four,

Sitting on the kitchen floor.

Time doesn’t ‘tick tock’,

As it did in ‘Hickory Dickory Dock’.

It pauses, because I am in my little place.

It straightens things out,

Even if I’m not thinking straight.

My little place.

So, I go back in time,

A child, at the age of four,

Sitting on the cold, hard kitchen floor.

Mary Mc Namee

St. Mary’s Secondary School


Co. Offaly