National Poetry Month - ARTA Writing Contest Past Poetry Winners

In honour of April being National Poetry Month, we would like to highlight some of the past winners of the ARTA Writing Contest – Poetry category.

Here are some of examples of the fantastic poetry that has been submitted by our very talented ARTA members.

And while you are enjoying some of these works by past winners, you can submit your entries for the 2025 writing contest here.

Robson Dryads

By Gary Sinclair (2024 winner)

Clustered now beside the trail,
Their numbers wear a ghostly veil.
What was once is still to be,
Waiting for eternity?
Such potential yet so small,
Current will determine all.
Spread beyond the place released,
Through the air both south and east.
Nature’s frozen capsules heed,
Yet they are but lowly seeds.

Her First Day

By Fran Porter (2023 winner)

The phrase “assisted living” spawned their strife.
She’d never needed help in all her life!
How dare her daughter Claire, without permission,
Make such a final, horrible decision!

Though outwardly still always poised and stately,
She knows she’s been a tad forgetful lately.
So what? The sin is one of mere omission,
Not meriting life sentence to this prison!

A radiant-featured girl shows her her room.
It is quite pretty — bright, devoid of gloom.
A fellow resident smiles while passing by,
Lessening a bit her latent urge to cry…

‘Don’t make me turn a cartwheel or rejoice,’
Growls a begrudging, surly inner voice,
‘But I might be okay here.’ Her wry laughter
At turning cartwheels rings through roof and rafter.

“D’you play Canasta?” beams the fellow resident.
“We’ve got a club here, of which I’m the president.”
Canasta? Yes, she used to love the game.
But who, these days, even recalls its name?

“You’d like our club,” the resident then states,
“We laugh and reminisce as our mandates,
Embracing mutual memories and jokes
Whose punch lines would be lost on younger folks.”

‘Don’t make me turn a cartwheel or rejoice,’
Again growls that reluctant inner voice,
‘But I might be okay here. Back off, though.
Turn down the pressure pitch from high to low.’

She’s damned if she’ll give in without a fight.
Yielding too soon would simply not be right.
Might she just be okay here? Hmph. Could be.
Do they meet her high standards? Well, she’ll see.

And someday — if the gods decide it’s fair —
Perhaps she’ll even speak again to Claire.

Leaf Falling Day

By Sylvia Peterson (2022 winner)

Today is leaf falling day
I don’t know another name for it
This is the warm autumn day
Following the first hard frost

I felt an urge to go to my old street
Now lined with tall strong trees I remember: “Don’t bend those branches, they will break”
My children already tall enough to reach the sapling’s lowest boughs

The canopy above has turned a vibrant yellow
Save for here and there a splash of green
Clinging to the memory of summer
Leaf falling day
Not a leaf falling here or there but all together
One might expect a noise from ten thousand thousand leaves
Striking the earth So softly they float down and spill the amber

There is no line to say here is the grass and there the road
A blanket covering the ground
Wishing sweet dreams until spring
The leaves are down, the branches bare

It is leaf falling day

Giving

by John W. White (2019 winner)

My friend once spoke to me
With words that made me wonder
“I’d like to give you something” said he
“But I don’t know what it need be.”
I hesitated to gather thoughts and wonder
Then from my heart these words
Flowed out “You have so much
So much that you can share with me
Give me your sunny smile
Come sit with me a while
Give me your warm, firm handshake
A bond of friendship it can make
Give me conversation that stimulates
Conversation, not gossip or complaints
But ideas worth debate.

“Walk with me awhile, side by side
Matching step by stride
Not marching ahead
Nor lag behind
Please to my weaknesses be bling
To my mistakes and foibles
Take no heed

“Give me a hug of brotherly love
Help me wrestle with my doubts
Speak calmly when I shout
Out at injustices done by mankind
To others and perhaps we’ll understand
And help me seek the kindness path
Then erase the Cult of More.

“And with this friendship giving
We might help the world
To be a better place to live in.”

By Old Light

by Mary Campbell (2018 winner)

We move through old light held
with tenderness and joy
in soil and leaf.
As we walk these woods
what ancient depths
do our footsteps touch
And how does the tiniest
vibrations of our passing
reach the earths’s core

Our connection
to the time beyond time
on this ground we inhabit
allows us to rest
in song and shade
when we meet the clearing.