Week 14 – entries and results

Friday, 7 March 2014

Fairgrounds are  magical places and the colourful photograph above taken by  Ira Joel Haber (Week 14) took many of you back to a particular day, others used the wheel itself as a metaphor for life. Votes are now in for Week 14 and I am delighted to announce that the winner is Janice Windle with That Day. In second place was Lessons on the Wonder Wheel by Stephanie Haxton.

Well done to Janice and Stephanie and to everyone who entered and voted. Stephanie tells me that she is quite addicted to the challenge as many are…keep the poems coming. It is also lovely to know that the challenge is bringing in new people all the time, both readers and poets.


Poem 1

A wheel waiting


to turn upside down, spin like a top

to go where clouds shift sideways

disperse streamers across blueness;


to swing glass huts like silver charms

on a bracelet where faces press

on windows and small children laugh


louder than the sound of ambulances racing

through held up traffic –  a sense of push

me higher, push me higher – deep down


most of us long to fly like a bird over a city

to perch as a dignitary on statues or trees

to see the sun breathe over intermittent rain;


we know that London speaks for human

kind –centuries of life recognised in statues,

buildings and a river jewelled in bridges.


Audrey Arden-Jones


Poem 2

Remember That Day


Remember that day
We went to the summer fair?
Five of us together –
“Best friends” you’d say many a time,

But I felt like the fifth wheel.


A puzzle – you fit,
I’m the piece you didn’t need.

That summer was cold.
All the colour in the park
I couldn’t see through the grey.


Laughter surrounded,

Beaming over my despair,
Drowned my silent screams.
While we raced to the big wheel

My heart sank with this knowing.


Four to one cabin,
One must ride her alone.
You scrambled past me,

Jumped into the swaying red

I rode the suitable blue.


The Ferris wheel span
And I sobbed at the clear sky.
Such a gorgeous day,
But my self-pity blinded.

How many more will I miss?

A E Nicholas


Poem 3

the coloured threads

of life’s spinning wheel


slowly gathering speed

the colours merge

and change,

as each backward

view becomes clear.


The pace changes

as if in slow motion

and we

hardly breathing, watch


strangling strands

thin as spider’s silk,

barely visible

over the years

are knotted, twisted

ever tighter

woven around the two of us.

Surrounded, you

begin the change.


As you fly

above life’s wheel

you leave me

clinging to the empty

shell of sadness.

Angie Butler


Poem 4

Lessons on the Wonder Wheel


She was, eventually, persuaded to

ride the wonder wheel,

romance overcoming reluctance.

He with the insensitivity of youth,

mockingly rocked the gondola,

laughing at her terror,

joked about the view.

Coming, bumping, down to earth

her nausea dispelled his mirth.

His reputation and suede shoes, blue,

accordingly acquired a blemish

that would never quite brush out.


The moral then is nothing new:

simply that rocking any boat

is very rarely prudent.

We get what we are due.

Indeed, like that wonderous wheel,

what goes around comes around.

Stephanie Haxton


Poem 5

That day


The sky was a blue bowl flecked with ice cream.

There was a Flying Pink Elephant, an Astroglide

and the Dodgems were dodging nobody.

That day was white rabbits, purple monkeys,

and dragons as tall as your dad.

It was rifles lined up for the daredevil boys

and a Haunted House full of webs and toads

and bones and whistles and rattles and howls.

This was a day of puce clouds on sticks

and glittering jewels and toys up for grabs

by anyone with a twenty-pence piece.

And this was the day that I mounted the sky

and rode on the Ferris Wheel.


Janice Windle


Poem 6

Psychedelic Love


I dream you in colour;

Rainbow fantasies of summer days,

Hands held and kisses sending me so high

Our hands reach to the sky and surrender to the sensation.

My fairground ride;

Coaxing me with the promise to fulfil,

Flying me higher and higher until you take my breath.

The world is blurred beneath us as we spin and cling and thrill.

Giddy with your touch, morning heralds our descent

I peep through my fingers

And the world is grey.


Sarah Miles