The Boroughmuir Maker is our official poet – the first pupil leadership position of its kind at our school.
We ran a competition to find two creative, passionate, and artistically excellent pupils (one for the senior year groups and one for the junior year groups) to act as Boroughmuir School Makars. We will ask these pupils, occasionally, to share with us their ‘take’ on current or school events – just like Kathleen Jamie does as the Scots Makar and Hannah Lavery does as the Edinburgh Makar.
The competition was small but the poems were absolutely wonderful. They were clever, thoughtful, fierce, heart-breaking, funny, thought provoking but above all unique. They were all so good. Thank you to everyone who entered. As a result of the quality of the work sent in, a selection of the best – from across the school – will be published after the October Holiday for pupils and parents to purchase.
Mr Thomson is currently running a competition for pupils to design the cover for that publication, so artists – if you’re interested – please do get involved and ask Mr Crawford for more information.
The poetry competition was judged anonymously by Ms Yates, Mr Dempster, Ms Presley and Sam Tongue from the Scottish Poetry Library.
The winners are:
S1-S3, Oscar Cobham (S1)
S4-S6, Caitlin Conway (S6)
Our winners will each receive a badge for their bags, a goody-bag from the Scottish Poetry Library, a copy of Kate Clanchy’s How to Grow Your Own Poem, a £10 book voucher and their poems will be entered into the Foyle’s Young Poet of the Year international competition. Their poems will also be published on the Scottish Poetry Library Website.
A huge thanks to Ms Yates for organising this whole event!
Here’s one each of their poems. Enjoy
Time Heals Grief- Caitlin Conway
Your recollections of their voice begin to fade,
though forgetting their cadence was not your intent,
‘Time heals grief’ only to leave it betrayed.
Once the outpour of grief has ceased to cascade,
and the letters and cards are no longer sent,
your recollections of their voice begin to fade.
Grief, now reticent, halts its parade,
it is contained and managed (to an extent),
‘Time heals grief’ only to leave it betrayed.
If your façade takes a hit or begins to degrade,
to this truth let your wavering will be bent,
your recollections of their voice begin to fade.
Look beneath the mourning, let your content be unmade:
words left unsaid, time left unspent,
‘Time heals grief’ only to leave it betrayed.
The loss of the lost cuts as deep as a blade,
guilt drives the living’s discontent.
Your recollections of their voice begin to fade,
‘Time heals grief’ only to leave it betrayed.
Poem by Oscar Cobham
As the wind blows through the rustling leaves,
And the rain drips into the roadside streams,
In a deserted street with no one around,
Nature’s chorus is the only sound.
The weeds grow in the flagstone cracks,
Wriggling up through all the gaps,
Striving to grow above the waste,
Nature always finds her place.
And when we are gone and nothing but dust,
Who will be there, in who can we trust?
Nature that’s who, Nature will be there,
Because the weight of the future is what Nature bears.
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