• Home

Young Writers Society

Summer Themed Poetry Contest!

User avatar
60 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 1763
Reviews: 60
Sun Jul 03, 2022 5:20 pm
View Likes
LizzyTyler says...

Summer Poetry Series Contest


Hello hello hello!
Me and @lliyah are hosting a Summer Poetry Series Contest! While writing one poem can be a lot of fun, trying your hand at a whole poetry series can be a really fun excercise too! In order to help you come up with a cohesive series three prompts will be offered for the contest! Poets can submit their poems one at a time, or all at once. Three winners will be decided upon.

With three different prompts during July, poets can stretch their wings and launch into summer! Beginning on the 3nd and ending on the 30th, to enter poets must submit three poems that follow the three prompts:


Poem One - Sunburned
Poetry Form - Free Verse (there are no length, or rhyming, or form requirements, just write a free-verse poem using the theme)
Theme - Since Light takes around 8 minutes to reach the Earth from the Sun, if the sun burned out it would take 8 minutes for us to notice. (Source) That's your prompt for Poem One!

Poem Two - Beach Day
Poetry Form - Must Use Rhyme! You can use a structured or unstructured type of poem for this one, but your poem must utilize rhy me at some point in your piece.
Theme - This poem must reference water at least once, it doesn't have to be a major theme, but it does need some sort of reference in there.

Poem Three - Travel Log
Poetry Form - For this poem you have some options, these types of poems all have something to do with the way a poem is arranged on the page rather than what sound devices or rhythm are used! Your poem must be a Concrete Poem (also called a shape poem) or can be a Prose Poem or it can be a List Poem (ie. a poem arranged in the form of a list).
Theme - A travel log is a document that contains all the details of your trip and can take many different forms, the form of this travel log will be your poem! You can interpret this prompt in many different ways, and it doesn't necessarally have resemble what a travel log usually looks like in any way.


Prizes: First place will receive 250 points and a doodle courtesy of either me or alliyah. Second place will receive 100 points with a complementary doodle, and third, a doodle.

Deadline is July 30th.

Best of luck, poets! Let us know if you have any questions!
“your highness” is gender neutral

so if you are ever confused about my pronouns

that’l work

alternatively “your majesty”, “my liege”, and “supreme overlord”

*please note “your grace” is also acceptable

User avatar
30 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 155
Reviews: 30
Sun Jul 03, 2022 5:52 pm
View Likes
NewHope says...

May I write a poem about missing Summer so much I wish I was sunburned? Because… it is 2 degrees Celsius in the mornings and I am not getting the Summer vibe.

Edited: Oh… it’s a play on words…
Swan Queen's little sister in-law/caretaker since 2022

User avatar
1231 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 144350
Reviews: 1231
Mon Jul 04, 2022 11:03 pm
View Likes
alliyah says...

@Moonglade the themes have a wide range of interpretation possibilities! :D Hope to see some of your poetry!
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return

User avatar
30 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 155
Reviews: 30
Mon Jul 04, 2022 11:11 pm
View Likes
NewHope says...

Sorry… um… yes… I feel like I have confused myself again. The first poem had to be about the sun burning and not about getting actual sunburn. (Sorry. I can be a tiny over literal.)
Swan Queen's little sister in-law/caretaker since 2022

User avatar
542 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 41664
Reviews: 542
Fri Jul 15, 2022 1:51 pm
View Likes
Liminality says...

Here are mine! I call this series 'Zombie Summer'. Warnings: zombies, but they're cartoonish zombies - so if you can stomach Plants vs Zombies, you'll probs be fine. Also some implications of death in the third poem.

[Post-Apocalyptic Apocalypse]

Spoiler! :
Flicker-buzz. Only streetlights
bathe the empty park bench.
Down a broken cobblestone trail
comes heavy, jolting footsteps:
a zombie wearing slippers
with the soles flapping loose.

Flip-flop. It’s just too dark to see.
Only the green skin of this zombie
is too luminescent not to notice.
It’s kind of like a glowstick back when
there were still people, and people still had those.
A squirrel dashes across the tar.

The sun literally went out
about twelve minutes ago.

But the zombie drags her feet
to the edge of every catastrophe.
Blackout? No hurry. Ice Age? Whatever.
Even nuclear meltdowns become
nothing to call home about.
Her hair sways as she shambles street-to-street.

Flip-flop. This is what it’s like to be
a zombie in a dead park, among the trees
thick and strong, and they’ll last long
while black skies settle like sediment
over the Earth, and the clouds
flop down for good.

Flicker-buzz. The streetlights will say
in several days, when the electricity finally
cuts off. Zombies don’t care
about heating. Or cooling. Or paying bills.
Even if the world is ending,
is there anything really left
to worry about?

(Beach Day)
[It’s not that Zom-Dad hates crabs, it’s just . . .]

Spoiler! :
My Dad is a zombie, he likes the sea.
On white sands, he exercises lazily.
He takes one step. Then two. Then three.
He breaks no sweat, apparently.

My Dad is a zombie, he hates bare feet.
He’ll groan without the concrete
feel of slippers under his feet.
His strange green zombie feet.

My Dad is a zombie, he hates his feet wet.
Without his slippers, that’s how he’ll get.
He’ll have to walk on hot sands, I’ll bet,
if he wants to dry his feet by sunset.

My Dad is a zombie, he has large toes.
Crabs like to grab at them, as everybody knows,
and he has to kick at them, to free those
round and unwieldy, strange green zombie toes.

(Travel Log)
[Shambling Road to the Deep North]

Spoiler! :
Day One: at the temple in the city
    - Rose never. Always awake.
    - Heavy rain, no problem. Only puddles.
    - No map, no phone, no trouble.
    - Departed at 6.00 a.m.
Day Two: road to the airport
    - Luggage? Check. A gentleman’s valise.
    - Baggage? Uncheck. I’ve got none.
    - Security found no metal on me
    - (Too busy running away)
Day Three: road to countryzide
    - No flightz. Different route chozen.
    - No hotelz. No bed mitez.
    - Had no brainz, no aeroplane food.
    - Now I need to Z-z-z.
Day Four: Z-z-z
    - I am Zombie. Zombie never sleepz.
    - Zombie I am. Can’t take the tram.
    - Pazzed by forest. Pazzed green trees.
    - Not greener than me, lezz and lezz green.
Day Five: road-crozzing
    - Traffic light sayz: go!
    - Road sign sayz: stop!
    - Zombie knowz
    - Zombie don’t care
Day Six: at the shrine at the edge of the countryzide

    - nIghtfall, no meaning. Am always azleep.
    - But no rain, good. Candlez burn.
    - Trip iz over now. Luggage burn.
    - Journey time: 5 dayz, 14 hrs.
    - Departed, 8.00 p.m.

Author's note: the title of the third poem is a reference to Matsuo Basho's 'Narrow Road to the Deep North', a travel diary that partially inspired the piece.

Have you met my friend, The Story Review Template?

User avatar
35 Reviews

Gender: Male
Points: 371
Reviews: 35
Sat Jul 16, 2022 2:17 pm
View Likes
Kelisot says...

I'm taking some inspiration from @Liminality of having the three prompts as a series. My series is called "Cutting Poppies".

Prompt 01 - Sunburn
Backstory - This tells the story of an alternative universe of Earth that is damned, having destined to be destroyed within few days.
Eventually, the Sun God and their servants (called angels here) eventually use the sun itself to destroy humanity by making a doomsday cult, which strengthens the Sun God to a point which the Sun destroys all.

tl;dr god mad and kill human(s) with sun oh my
Spoiler! :
Give us light, O God!
The angels heard.
Give us joy, O God!
And the angels heard.

So that is what the Deity,
The one above, the Light,
Ruler of all celestial bodies,
Manifested into the Sun

So when he, the great
Eye-blinding Hae-Taiyou
Heard the complaints,
He yelled and cried.

Let all of life be damned,
He raged and screamed,
Let life itself be a curse,
He cursed and shrieked.

Let me vessel, my husk
Become an instrument
Of mass destruction
Killing existence.

So Hae-Taiyou mumbled
An execration which he sent,
His mind into a human
Whispering with command

I shall give you dominion
The wicked Sun lied
I shall grant you authority
The malicious god tricked

And the lies spread all across
The humans started to praise
A great God of Glory
Who was now a gaseous sphere

And when a sunburn,
The mark of loyalty,
Started to hurt
It was too late.

The angels had poured oil
On the hateful Hae-Taiyou,
Whose radiance and faith
Had radiated so strong

Starting to harm others
Humans were now meat,
The angels feasted on flesh
Selling humans as beasts

Fear not, they were damned
Burning in sanguine flames
A sea and snow of ashes
Which other gods mourned.

Prompt 02 -Beach Day
Beach day LET'S GOOOOOOOO...?
Spoiler! :
I hate the hot beach
That is said by a leech
A parasite like me
Which you should flee

The wet, mushed sand
And my clear flesh tanned
What I abhor about here
The crabs, whom I fear.

Prompt 03 - Travel Log
*beep beep* on record *beep beep* and mercury HAHAHAHA
Spoiler! :
Day 1
- The human I hate stands
- I must eradicate him
- For revenge I must
- It is must

Day 2
- A casino borrowed
- From incubus Benny
- And his spouse
- Revenge! Revenge!

Day 3
- Met the Apple God
- Giving me a weapon
- Forcefeeding poison
- I laugh wickedly

Day 4
- I am so happy
- The man has drank
- Silver royal poison
- Hooray!
Last edited by Kelisot on Sun Jul 17, 2022 9:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
I like Gabber. I recommend that you should also listen to it.


User avatar
1231 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 144350
Reviews: 1231
Sat Jul 16, 2022 5:36 pm
View Likes
alliyah says...

@Kelisot the idea of the contest is to make a series :) ~

These are both REALLY great! Thank you for participating!

Still time for more to submit!
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return

User avatar
455 Reviews

Gender: Other
Points: 22123
Reviews: 455
Thu Jul 28, 2022 1:26 am
View Likes
Hijinks says...

1. Sunburned - sun kissed cheeks
Spoiler! :
i've heard it would take eight minutes
for us to know if the sun decided she was done
with being our celestial lighthouse. and that might
have some deep revelation of truth hidden
somewhere in the fact, but the only revelation
i've had is that i've grown far too distanced from
and dependent on my own emotional state.
she's a bright ball of gaseous turmoil,
eight break-downs away, and i revolve around her
since orbiting is the only dance i've ever mastered.

i give her half my attention, except for those moments
when she catches my eye in the rear view mirror,
blinding in retrospect. and then i tilt it up slightly
and the distance has been reinstated. when she explodes,
as she is apt to, i will not notice until i try to do
something completely unconnected: say, sailboating
on a lake. suddenly, she makes the tide come undone
with her dismissal of gravity and i am powerless
while falling star debris makes the waves froth.

2. Beach Day - dish duty (terza rima)
Spoiler! :
the dishwasher broke today
and so i stand against the sink
cheeks met by a soft soapy spray.

measuring cups and spoons clink
a metallic melody into my ears.
i almost enjoy the monotony. i blink--

a bubble has landed like a tear
against the bottom lid of my eye.
i pause midswipe; no need to interfere

with the water. she seems to know
what she's doing--i don't want to cry
and that's unusual. so i go with the flow,

i take my sweet time. i peel and i pry
at the gunk, and then i lazily pat things dry.

3. Travel Log - baggage
Spoiler! :
i. the suitcase

- i packed it until i didn't know if i could zipper it shut - this is how i bring my personality along for the flight. i need these clothes, rolled and folded, to fabricate an impression of me, to supply the airport security with tangible evidence that i am real and not a hollow shell. they should know that if they put me to their ear they will not hear a seashore.
    - when i'm feeling unbearably hollow, i just eat another outfit. stuff myself on cotton and polyester and denim until i have a stomach ache and all the waistbands dig into my belly.
- some toiletries:
    - floss, to pick threads out of my teeth and buttons from between my gums.
    - deodorant, in case i throw too many layers of clothing onto myself and swelter in the heat wave. that would be a halfhearted effort to look more substantial, appear more huggable, but the sweat and tears would ward away any prospective takers.
    - shampoo, toothpaste, a nail file, contact lenses, hair mousse.

ii. the carry-on

- i've crammed infinite panic i've missed something vital right on top, easy to access and always on hand. every time i peer into the tote bag, i see it leering at me, urging me to dig deeper and make sure i packed my sanity, my phone charger, my intrusive thoughts, that one psychedelic pin, sunglasses, some Advil, a bit of insomnia.
    - i haven't forgotten any of them, of course, but i spend the entire flight hunting through my bag to reassure myself. i'm like a child in a sand pit, but with more urgency and less competence; no plastic trowel, just peeling hang-nailed hands.
- a red camera. undoubtedly, i forget to live in the moment and craft everything into future memories instead. a day at the beach turns into a day at the beach i will remember a year from now and forget two years from then; a day i never really lived except through a lens. brighter, filtered, cropped, zoomed, framed just how i like it. i can't capture the smell of Miss Vickie's salt&vinegar chips, tingling in my nostrils, or the feeling of wet sand under my finger nails, and if i'm not careful this realization may overwhelm me.
- boxes;
    - a box to collect shells and sea glass and the smell of salt.
    - a box to collect all the spiky thoughts that form between 11:02 pm and 1:47 am, whiplashed from the fan that whirls in the motel room. i hear cars on the highway 50 feet away, rubber-on-road like the sound of nostalgia spinning out of control.
      - nostalgia for the way this could have been. a boisterous group of friends forming stories they will tell their nieces and nephews ten years from now. we could make poor decisions and be stupid, rash, and young. i would not be lying awake in bed at 11:03 pm. i would still be asleep in bed at 11:03 am.
When you're faced with something you don't understand, I think the most natural thing but also least interesting thing you can be is afraid.

-- Hank Green

(previously whatchamacallit and Seirre)

User avatar
53 Reviews

Gender: Demigirl
Points: 5168
Reviews: 53
Sat Jul 30, 2022 1:18 am
View Likes
WeepingWisteria says...

I’m close to the wire, but here we go. :D

The Summer of Burning Love

Sunburned: Eight Minute Countdown
Spoiler! :
If the sun burned out it would take eight minutes to notice.
Eight minutes before darkness devoured the world and the moon fell from the sky.
A week before temperatures plummeted to below freezing.
A year before the oceans froze.
Eight minutes before our fragile livelihoods disintegrate in the sudden, unending blindness.

Would our scientists know if the sun suddenly disappeared?
If they did, would they tell us?
Would it do anything?
If you had eight minutes before the world ended, would you want to know?
We would be powerless to do anything except stare at the ghost of our dead sun until that evaporated too.
We’d have eight minutes to prepare to follow the sun into the afterlife, leaving the stars behind.

Maybe that’s the universe’s way of saying to live well.
You never know when you have eight minutes left, when the timer starts counting down.
Try new things, appreciate the ones who treat you well.
Go outside and kiss the sun that has sustained us for millennium.
Before its eight minute death sentence comes for our heads.

Or maybe it’s a simple fact of life.
Maybe it really is just the way light travels and the universe cares not for our musings of love and life.
Eight minutes is not a courtesy, a warning, a cautionary tale.
It just is.
And we are simple humans that foolishly believe we are guaranteed the next day, next week, next year.
When we could only have eight short, fleeting minutes.

Beach Day: Drowning Love Stories
Spoiler! :
How many love stories start with drowning?
How many sailors jump into the sea
Walking the plank and crashing into her arms
And choking on everything they could be
Because the sea didn’t love them back

How many pray that a kiss will set them free
And that their love will be written in the stars
Love becomes something they need to breathe
And suddenly they’re broken without it.

How many love stories start with drowning?
While holding on to rotting memories
Religiously reopening our scars
And painting ourselves with the debris
Until our skin melts into our demise

With love that’s jagged and broken
And how many of those stories end just fine?
Because the hurt just stays unspoken
And us hurting people clutch to our broken stories of love

Travel Log: Traveling to You
Spoiler! :
Time of Departure: Too soon
Miles traveled: [insert incomprehensible symbols]
Time of Arrival: Just in time to hurt
  • An over-eager heart, aching and torn
  • A bundle of costumes so she’ll love me more
  • A rope to tie the weight to my ankle
  • Headphones to drown out the screams of my boundaries
  • A poker face for the days she gut-punches me
  • A place to cry myself to sleep when she tenderly stabs me
  • A bubble of isolation when she’s too jealous to let me go
  • And an envelope of lies when she lets me go home
  • A radioactive flower garden making my bones glow
    • The light’s so pretty but it hurts so deep
  • A kiss that makes me feel too heavy and dirty to be love
    • She doesn’t love me the way I love her. She wants a key I don’t posses, and I’m terrified she’ll open me up anyways.
  • A cry in the dark that keeps me by her side, even as it kills me
    • She’s stealing pieces of me away, I feel less everyday.
  • Rock bottom as I realize I can’t keep traveling like this.
    • Soon, there will be nothing left to travel, and she will be grinning over my bone dust remains.
  • Some courage and a map to change my travel plans.
    • I don’t tell her where I’m going, she’ll chase me down and devour me if I did.
  • And finally some solace, even though she hates me for it.
    • She threatens to burn me alive.
    • Don’t tell her she already almost did.

Time of Departure: Just in time to save myself
Miles Traveled: Enough
Time of arrival: Good enough
  • A new scar to add to the ever-growing collection
  • Shards of her heart I’m picking out of my fingers
  • This lack of guilt that’s foreign to me
  • Strengthened barriers to keep people out of where they shouldn’t be
  • A few lessons I wish I learned under kinder circumstances
  • I’m not sure yet.
    • I’ll tell you when I get there.

“the wist i knew would never allow a straight boy in their stories” ~Omni
“Hi Omni can I request wist get the role mom friend :]" ~winter
“ah yes, fear Wist's smile :) <- speaks of layers and layers of secrets” ~mint

User avatar
692 Reviews

Gender: Other
Points: 85952
Reviews: 692
Sat Jul 30, 2022 3:50 am
View Likes
Plume says...

My series of poems entitled "kore's summer vacation"

1. Sunburned: when the lights that shine grow tired
Spoiler! :

the world looks different through tortoiseshell frames,
painting every leaf greener,
and the sky darker.
as the sun drips down the horizon,
leaving nothing but honeyed petals in its wake,
she waters her plants.
dusk fell too early, and they need
her helping hands.
she alone is not strong enough to coax
vines skywards, flowers to open, but still,
she whispers to them,
as the light glints off of her sunglasses.
i'm your goddess now.

2. Beach Day: she who is one with summer
Spoiler! :

i pity the girl
who runs wild with the sun,
with her sun-freckled skin
and her braids half-undone.
there is much to be said
for those staying inside,
for soon she'll be cornered
with no place to hide.

i envy the girl
who talks to the sand.
she gathers shells
in her ocean-splashed hands.
there is much to be said
for those staying away,
since the water is cold
though she basks in its spray.

i follow the girl
who rides waves like a boat,
whose skin tastes like salt
and whose back stays afloat.
there is much to be said
for those staying on land,
but she smells like the sea
and i'll feed out her hand.

3. Travel Log: married life
Spoiler! :

1. she cuts the flowers before she leaves. they're not quite ready to leave their stems, but once she gets back, it'll be too late, and not even she can turn back time. they look like a moment too soon on her countertop, suspended in her mother's vase. surely the empty house will enjoy the view.
2. the room at the inn sounds different from her bedroom. the breeze through the window interrupts the thick air like wind chimes through the doldrums of summer. the more she chases sleep the faster it runs. her mind draws pictures on the blank ceilings amidst the nighttime static, and in them are the flowers. she hopes that they miss her as much as she misses them. she hopes that they miss her like she misses her mother.
3. her house smells stale, like it's not hers. it smells stagnant, frozen in time. no flowery perfume, even though the six months should have been enough time for it to battle humidity and heat and settle in the wood grain. it feels like she's been gone ages but the house wants to convince her that she never left, that time stops until she's around to witness it. she touches a petal, youthful and velvety beneath her fingers. as she rubs it, it crumbles. she shivers. too slow, then too fast. winter has come.
I was born to speak all mirth and no matter.

User avatar
1231 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 144350
Reviews: 1231
Sat Jul 30, 2022 4:53 am
View Likes
alliyah says...

These are so beautifully wonderful; enjoyed reading every one of these and the creative directions you took the prompts! Thank you all for participating. Any last minute entries are welcome. @LizzyTyler and will be judging this August.

I tried out the prompts too so am just sharing for fun here. :']

1. Sunburned -
Spoiler! :


2. Beach Day -
Spoiler! :


3. Travel Log - Attempting the futile task to cross 803.5 miles on land, & then on sea, & then by poetry & other distances that may as well be infinite
Spoiler! :

you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return

User avatar
60 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 1763
Reviews: 60
Sat Jul 30, 2022 11:49 pm
View Likes
LizzyTyler says...

These are all great everyone! Really excited to read all of your interpretations of our prompts!
“your highness” is gender neutral

so if you are ever confused about my pronouns

that’l work

alternatively “your majesty”, “my liege”, and “supreme overlord”

*please note “your grace” is also acceptable

User avatar
30 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 155
Reviews: 30
Sun Jul 31, 2022 8:52 pm
View Likes
NewHope says...

It’s not all perfect and edited but it’s an entry. I’ve been researching comas recently so I had the inspiration to write a few poems about a little girl who was in an accident. The first poem is kind of just like in the coma, the second is kind of like a memory of them riding home after their holiday to the beach and maybe hearing voices. And the last is the holiday and the car accident. The series is called:

Mist Hangs Over The Lake: Mommy And Daddy Held My Hand In ICU

Sunburned: Through The Ancient Trees

Spoiler! :
Through the ancient, tangled trees
in their Winter sleep;
won’t you run away with me
through the twilight of dancing leaves?

Past the hills we climbed so free.
Forget the sun as it sets behind me.
Run through the starlight of my dreams,
take my hand and let me sleep.

Past the sun that will never rise.
Through the forest of the night.
Watch the golden, falling leaves
and wish for Summer once more, please.

Wish for sunburn on our shoulders.
Take a leap between the branches.
Let the blackbirds glide away,
forget their ancient, broken song.

Just pull me out the morning mist
from the lake side where we used to fish.
Follow me through the trees;
one more step is all it’ll take to rescue me from darkening hate.

Beach Day: Waterdrops

Spoiler! :
i - fire in the night

raindrops glided down the car window
like old lovers torn apart by time,
slowly they merged together
and heavily dropped down onto the dark, wet tar outside

ii - don’t be scared

and teardrops are just shiny water in the bough
of jasmine petals littered around the damp, old mine
my daddy use to say whenever it thundered and made me cry: rain settles on a grey feather
as it drifts away in the wind and flutters to the stormy oceans too far away for anyone to have ever cried

iii - mommy and me were blown away

and when my mommy could see I was still afraid she used to say that when the feather washed on shore: pluck the old, damp crow
feathers and knit them into tissues, sing an old rhyme
to forget about the nasty weather,
dab your tears away and watch outside the window as the lovers fell to the ground and died

iv - daddy said a little longer

but they held each other’s hand as the teardrops slipped around them, a vow
to hold on and not let go because: mommy loves you and daddy couldn’t live without you being there all the time
so don’t let go of my hand and drown, let me pull you out the mists and onto the lakeshore full of soft, pretty heather
oh, far down in the lake tide

Travel Log: So Like Stars Exploding

Spoiler! :
We went down to the deepest blue ocean to watch the creeks dip their necks into the crescent moon bay. They took me swimming in the afternoon and told me not to go far so I swam in the froth of the waves’ lapping dog tongues. We slept that night like starlight on the rocky mountain ranges and woke in the branches of sunrays.
They walked me down to the ocean rocks and shouted goodbye from down the winding road. So Mommy and Daddy drove and drove and sat back down like doves in a nest and drove till it was midnight dark and the headlights and the rain echoed through my window frame.
Daddy stopped and left us wondering in the car, his old man eyes searching for the next turn and Mommy scrambled away and looked at me through the raindrops. So I stared into the darkness and then there came the circles as the bus stocked against me, side cracking me like an ostrich egg.
For days and weeks and tired months Mommy and Daddy searched while I played alone in the misty swamps, and then from the fog I saw my blue-white hospital gown.
Swan Queen's little sister in-law/caretaker since 2022

User avatar
1231 Reviews

Gender: Female
Points: 144350
Reviews: 1231
Wed Sep 14, 2022 1:37 am
View Likes
alliyah says...



Summer; gone before we even say hello

With the Summer season drawing to a close, it's time to announce the winners of our Summer Series Poetry Challenge! First though, a HUGE thank you is in order to all who participated - these were so much fun to read, and you each brought your own awesome blast of creativity to the individual prompts that made each collection so totally you! @LizzyTyler and I had a difficult time judging, but greatly enjoyed reading these! We were blown away by the way the poems tied to each other, and the imagery and poetic devices throughout each piece.

So without further ado...

In 3rd Place ... @Liminality

In 2nd Place... @WeepingWisteria

AND in 1st Place, our Grand Champion... @Seirre!!

Wonderful work poets! Watch for those prize-packages in the mail! Congratulations to our winners and well done to our contributors @Liminality @Kelisot @Seirre @WeepingWisteria @Plume @Moonglade! Thank you all for sharing your poetry! :)
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return

User avatar
53 Reviews

Gender: Demigirl
Points: 5168
Reviews: 53
Wed Sep 14, 2022 1:38 am
View Likes
WeepingWisteria says...

Amazing job, everyone! There were some truly great pieces in this. <3

“the wist i knew would never allow a straight boy in their stories” ~Omni
“Hi Omni can I request wist get the role mom friend :]" ~winter
“ah yes, fear Wist's smile :) <- speaks of layers and layers of secrets” ~mint

the world (me) cries out for salvation (snacks)
— creaturefeature