Wild words winners

 
The Wild Words writing competition gave you a great chance to use your imagination and send us a story or a poem.

And, wow, what a creative bunch you are! The judges were simply blown away by the standard of this years entries. All of the Winners and Runners up have now been notified, here are the winning entries from the three age categories.

Under 8s: Hannah age 7 of Coventry

The centipede

Curly centipede

short as a finger

waiting centipede

for a fly

Come to me!

I am waiting for you

for dinner

Centipede’s legs

like a hairbrush

Centipede’s body

like a bumpy road

Centipede like

a marching soldier.

8-12s Helen Hadlington age 11 of Winchester

I am a seed

I am a seed trying to break free,

I am twisting and struggling and shaking and turning,

All I can hope is that wind comes soon,

I am thumping and screaming and shouting and crying.

I am a seed that has just broken free,

I am prancing and dancing and twisting and looping,

I am overjoyed to be free at last,

I am jumping and shouting and playing and swaying.

I am a seed just about to land,

I am excited and happy yet scared and anxious,

I am nearly there – three more metres to go,

I am uncomfortable and frightened and nervous yet thrilled.

I am a shoot reaching up to the sunlight,

I am stretching and climbing and pushing and pulling,

Sunlight means food and food equals life,

It is essential and unnerving and important yet beautiful.

I am the leaves growing out of the shoot,

I am working and failing yet free and happy,

I give life to the plant that gave life to me,

I am tired and exhausted and sleepy and weary.

I am the flowers that come from the plant,

I am beautiful and fragrant and pretty and colourful,

I help the plant to create seeds in the spring,

I am natural and bright and gentle and kind

I am the trunk of a beautiful old tree,

I am mossy and brown and wise and wonderful,

I used to only be a tiny little seed,

I am older and bolder and powerful and grander.

I have a seed trying to break free,

It is twisting and struggling and shaking and turning,

All it can hope is that wind will come soon,

It is thumping and screaming and shouting and crying.

13s and over – Matthew Hayes age 13 of Bedford

Horace’s point of view

Hello, I’m Horace – the 'common' woodpigeon who always sits on the shed roof. Y’know, the one who likes the seeds on the bird table. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll remember me soon enough.

Do you think you could possibly put in another bird bath? You see, all the little finches and sparrows hog the little one that’s there now. And where there’s no-one there, and I go for a bath, all the little birds get grouchy and up-tight because I take up all the space. And there’s a leak in the roof of the bird table. It’s not very pleasant to be sitting, eating those lovely seeds with rain coming in and soaking me to the skin.

Oh! You remember me now. Yes, I’m the one with the really bright stripe on my wings. Now that we know each other, I’m sure you’ll want to hear all about me, don’t you – after all, it’s not often that you get a chance to have a chat with a Human (or a pigeon in your case).

If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s next-door’s cat – what’s his name, Tabby? More like Tubby if you ask me. What is his obsession with chasing me? Okay, so he could do with the exercise, but why me, just me, he doesn’t try for the tits and sparrows? I remember, a couple of years ago, that autumn when it was really windy. I was sitting on next door’s chimney pot, trying to keep warm, when ol’ Tubby appeared in the gutter, watching me. I took off in such a frights that the chimney pot came loose and toppled over. It hit Tubby full in the face. I wonder how he managed to get up there! I’m still waking up at night and laughing about it!

Last week’s seeds were horrible, what were they – fossilised cardboard shapes? What with winter coming on I’ve got to eat more, so could you stick to the usual seeds from now on? At this time of year one can’t afford to go hungry.

The weather’s been bad recently, hasn’t it? What with all this frost it’s been harder to find food – I’m glad you keep the table and feeder well topped up!

Some other things I hate are those ugly Feral things. They’re a disgrace to pigeons everywhere. It makes you feel sick seeing all those flea-ridden bin bags sitting on the spikes on the Post Office sign; pecking at the gum and fag ends lying on the floor; and fighting over some manky, half-eaten sandwich – they should eat good quality seeds. I hate peregrines, not that you get any round here. And what is it with OAPs banging on their patio windows at you to get off the bird table, because all those sweet little song birds have flown off because I’m there. I get hungry too!

Well, I’m off for something to eat; maybe we could have a chat later. Bye!