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As always, judging
poetry is difficult, especially when reading hundreds of entries. We have finally selected a winner for each
category: Alicia Ruskin, from California, in the adult category, for the poem
“dawning” while Haidee Chen has won the under-18
category with “Chloris.”
There were many other poems that we feel merit
sharing with you, and these are the honorable mentions. In the adult category: Polly Atkin, Caroline Calloway, Julie Ropelewski,
Michael Hudson, Scott Raven Tarazevits,
and Masiela Lusha. In the under-18 category: Josephine Benson,
Eliot Yong, Rachel Wood, Calli Riggan,
Andrew Nguyen and Andei Zoe Engracia. Please read the fine poems below, and come back
later to learn about future contests. |
The Tapestry of Bronze is a series of novels set in Bronze
Age Greece. There’s no need to read our books to enter the contests,
but if you like mythology, or historical fiction, or simply reading exciting
stories, we think you’ll enjoy them!
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First Place Adult “dawning” Alicia Ruskin * First Place Under-18 “Chloris” Haidee Chen My sisters,
all clad in white laugh and dance around me Making wreaths
out of emerald green leaves Water from the
stream circle and wrap around the smooth gray rocks Holding on
until the last moment Then tumbling
away Trickle Trickle I watch,
thinking that there is something wrong Birds sing a
blithesome song as white butterflies danced on bright yellow daisies I lay on my
back gazing at the cloudless azure sky Still thinking
that something is wrong Mother’s sweet
voice calls from a distance My sisters
make their way slowly across the field Lingering and
enjoying the last moments of the day The sun sets
while the blue sky turns pink and finally breaks into blood red As it always
does But I can’t
shake the feeling that something is wrong “ Now you will
feel the wrath of the gods” A powerful and
resonant voice cries Mother is
running quickly towards me as one by one my sisters fall A silver arrow
glistens, wavers, and disappears “Artemis!
Spare her! Please! She is all I have left,” my mother cries I look up and
see a beautiful woman in a dazzling white tunic that nearly blinds me She has no
blemishes Love and
Valiance radiate from every pore Glowing with
kindness, but with an expression of strange and alien harshness that doesn’t
belong And a silver
arrow strung on her bow Her eyes shown
with sorrow and regret “Child, you
will not suffer” A whisper and
a cry, the last thing I heard
Honorable
Mentions – Adult “Potnia Theron” Polly Atkin Our lady of animals, was it you in the meadow in the mist
where the calves grazed by starlight, their breath white globes
in the dark? We stopped dead, sensing shadow
shifting, our own breath pooling into
phosphorous moons, feeling the deep hush of
invisible hooves, drifting over the tips
of the blades of the grass as though
skating on dew. When the first stag raised its head and
its antlers were moonlight, we knew. Now every
evening the freezing cloud skulks from the
peaks, we listen for the quiet of their feet, to find you
shivering on the drive in the shape of a hind.
Inside, we expect the glow of your eyes
at the black of the window, your furred face emerging
from the field of fog, the glass
between us. To want you is dangerous. To forget you,
worse. Mistress of wilderness. In the old
tongue, there were only chattels and dēor. In this wooded
crater at the twilit limits of
domestication, we bake dense cakes of honey and
sesame, playing the bear. * “Luna et Lacuna” Caroline Callaway Groves and
glades that flicker silver And have for
years Rung with
happy, sapphic laughter Bells like
nymphs and Nymphs like
bells Kallisto hides a
sapphire among the ferns. Stillness now At twilight
her mistress sets down The huntress’
crescent For that of
dusky, lilac sky And with
velvet fingers Dipped in ink Artemis
unfurls the night. Driads, hounds, and
hyacinth sleep Silvan satyrs with
moths now sleep The mother of Actaion, awake, Still weeps Into and
because of the absence. While the
nymphs, playful With wet hair
and Slender arms
full of hyacinth were chiming, Her son had
studied the crumpled silk upon the moss And knew: A
woman bathes. Yet had he
studied the crumpled buds beneath his boot He would have
seen: Narcissus Still grows
with regretful flowers along the banks. And perhaps
tonight the moon would not shine on one stag less. * “Actaeon’s Final
Thoughts” Julie Ropelewski I wanted only
to catch a glimpse to
learn if the tales were true:
that quiver leaning past your
honeyed shoulders, firm breasts,
pomegranate lips, long legs like
stems to hold that budding
tulip skirt of white purer than
milk, untasted but warm. I’d seen all
the paintings, read the
poets’ meager scrawls. No, you were
not what I imagined. At first bent
gently, washing behind the falls, like a common
maiden behind a curtain, you stood,
released your back from its curve and shot
moonbeams like arrows scattering through the
branches, a silver flood of sweet
contaminate light. There, still pouring
through my mind, is that liquid
gleam, like the center of a hungry
lion’s bronze eye. Even now, as
the hounds pant at my
heels, their hot, sour breaths slinking
up my weathered
legs to press this down fur
with damp, I say: as sure as my
heart throbs before this
final collapse to your earth, as sure as my
reedy neck falters from the
weight of these crooked bones, I know would
look again. * “Fleeting Moment of Terror with Diana the
Huntress” Michael Hudson The only thing
ancient in that little Museum of Art was the late
Roman copy of a Greek original:
Diana, missing an arm and the tip of her nose, bronze
bow looted centuries ago but a slim
hound still muscled and tense at
her crumbling feet. He’d lost an ear and a divot
from his flank, but he still out-dogged all the real
dogs. Here’s an impressive fake, I
reassured myself, bric-a-brac with pedigree but they’d
never catch a thing with eyes so
pocked, pitiful and blind… So there I
was, adrift in an air conditioner’s hum, a bloodless
shade that’d somehow lost its
Hades. I’d almost talked myself to safety, consoled by
the blather of art history’s knowing
flimflam and its routine blasphemies.
But Diana and her disintegrating mutt were out
for the kill and I was on the hoof, cursed and
metamorphosed into the last stag
alive on Mount Parnassus, heaving towards the
summit, antlers hopelessly snagged in treacherous
thorns, bellowing as each arrow
finds its mark. * “DIANA” Scott Raven Tarazevits for the
perfect gift, Diana's on the
hunt again and I'm still the game. * “The Sun’s Sister” Masiela Lusha Poor ivory
maiden, Your beauty is
not your own. You light upon
our flesh A broken
portrait Of rivers and
tides A gilded
memory And
reflection. Are you pale
with quietness, Relieving a
narrow river of lamentations Onto the sea
of our company? A somber roll
across the world, Friendless and
aching; A rocky shell
of all that is light and joy And you are
gone.
Honorable Mentions – Under-18 “Faces of
Artemis” Josephine
Benson Artemis
the goddess of the hunt. Even minus an “A” she Merits
praise. Said to have killed Orion
on a trick from her jealous
brother Apollo. She paid her respects
with solemn Rites,
casting
the giant among the stars. She was never one to
settle for Ties
—willing to fight it out. She calmed the sea, prevented the
Greeks from sailing to Troy, made
them Sit
foolishly
in their ships. And although Hera bested her at
Troy, Artemis had many more victories.
Goddess of the hearth Is nothing
compared to her responsibilities. She balanced being the
protectress of the girls with being the bringer of sudden death and disease. I
think
that’s divine, Artemis. * “Lady Di” Elliot Yong In the gleam
of the half-lit, waxing Moon With the
stroke of midnight coming soon The sylvan
creatures start to croon: “The goddess
comes tonight” Hark! A
rustle of the leaves The brilliant
shine of silken sleeves With footstep
softer than the thieves’ Diana hunts
tonight. Her step
betrays no wanton waste She treads
with swiftness, not with haste With virgin
beauty, pure and chaste Comes Diana,
clad in white Drawing back
her lustrous bow She nocks an
arrow of silver glow Taking aim at
a white-eared doe Stands Diana,
clad in light. Whistling
through nocturnal air Over creatures,
unaware To the target,
soft and fair Her arrow
travels bright. The doe is
struck and stumbles down And disappears
within the ground Without a
single stir or sound It vanishes
from sight. All the
woodland beasts disperse Through hills
and valleys do traverse To flee the
forest creatures’ curse: Diana hunts
tonight. * “Disturbance” Rachel Wood I
have been hunting without rest for years- or
at least, that’s what my body seems to say. What
I really need right now is simply a Warm, Relaxing Bath. I
reach my spring just short of collapsing I
eagerly allow the nymphs to undress me, and
let Crocale tie my hair in a knot. I feel Cool, Calm, Peaceful. But
suddenly--cries of anger break the peace I
stand, confused as nymphs surround me But
taller than them, I can still see him--a Young Staring Hunter. I
feel color rush to my face Matching
the embarrassment I feel I
turn my face away, unable to face my Hot Unbearable Shame I
splash him, with no other weapon available “Tell
of my shame now, if you can speak” I say I
watch, feeling no remorse, as he turns into a Prizeworthy Spotted Stag. * “Six Wishes” Calli Riggan “Father,” I
asked With bright,
shining eyes. “May I have
six wishes, If I promise
to be wise?” “Of course my
love,” He replied
with a boom. “For my first
wish,” I stated “I want a
lifelong virginal womb” “May it be so, My sweet
little berry. Now?” he asked
with a grin. “My next wish
is to never marry” “My next wish
is important And may keep
me preserved. I would like a
bow and arrow. Golden and
curved” “A bow and
arrow you say? And it is
done” he bellows and pounds “Next” I
replied “I would love
a protective pack of hounds” And then there
were dogs Of all shapes
and sizes. “Now may I
have some stags? “Last but not
least is what I want most of all” He looked at
me with an unsatisfied “Hmph” “Oh father
please! It’s simple I swear!” “All I want is
80 pure nymphs.” “It all sounds
simple enough” Said my father
with a scoff. He used his
powers and quickly it was done He admired his
work and brushed himself off. * “Wind Surge” Andrew Nguyen Through day,
night, twilight, The woodlands
merge, Silently
beating, The earth,
still as a cricket. Only the
steady pulse lingers, The warm
breath panting, Waiting for
the chance to strike. Tension. There! The first
arrow struck. And the hunt
begins! * “An Elegy of Life in Death” Andei Zoe Engracia The stallions’ pounding hooves echo, As blood rushes through my veins. In my mind I see their nostrils flaring, With the bloodshot eyes of the damned. Titters and snickers abound from the trees, As her nymphs wait for my apparent demise. She has caught up to me, but of course she
would, With the vengeance she brings like a
thunderous storm. The anger in her voice, the disgust in her
eyes, Do nothing but enhance her beauty tenfold. And as I wait for the gate of life, My heart is filled with wondrous joy. For with the moon shining overhead, I wait to die by my goddess’ hand
Visit the
winning poems of other Odes to Olympians contests! Go here to visit
the most current contest.
Several
have wondered: who are we and why do we do this? What exactly is this “Tapestry of Bronze?” First, our names are Victoria Grossack & Alice
Underwood. We sponsor this contest
because we want to encourage excellence and creativity. We’re using the same method used by the
Greeks back in Classical Athens: competition.
Instead of olive wreaths, we offer money and certificates for
prizes. We especially want to
encourage the under-18 because we want to support educators and students in
our own small way. The idea occurred
to us – most appropriately! – when we were visiting the ruins of ancient
Olympia in Greece. Second, the Tapestry of Bronze is a series of
interlocking novels. They are set in
the Bronze Age of Greece – several generations before the Trojan War. This was known to many as the “Golden Age
of Heroes,” but to us they seem to be made of bronze and not gold. Our series is a tapestry, because the books
tie together, but one book may focus on one character while another focuses
on another. Each book can be enjoyed
separately, or the books can be enjoyed together. As we state above, it is NOT necessary to
purchase or to read our novels in order to enter the contests. However, purchasing the novels helps to
support these contests. Not
sure if you’ll like the books? Then
electronically download a sample at Amazon.
Clicking on the covers below will take you to that company’s website. |
You may be interested in visiting other parts of our
website: Our
Books (in English) Bιβλία στα ελληνκα
- Our Books (in Greek) Odes to Olympians
Contest Current: Winners of Past Contests: Zeus Hera Poseidon
Demeter Hermes Athena Apollo Ares Aphrodite Maps ( The Stories Behind
the Stories Acknowledgements, Thanks,
Bibliography and Links Buying our
books helps support future contests!
A real page-turner . . . a wonderfully
nuanced novel that repays previous knowledge of its subject matter - but
never requires it -- Historical Fiction Review An absorbing, quasi-historical portrait
of ancient Greece ... well-balanced update that maintains the original's
mythic suspense. -- Kirkus, May 2005
A world...as compelling as Tolkien's but
more rooted in actual history...in the spirit of Graves's I, Claudius.
The most amazing part of the series is how the authors retell
the myths in such a way as to work for modern audiences.... definitely worth
reading by fans of fiction and Greek mythology. --NS Gill, About.com, Ancient History
Buying our
books helps support future contests!
A real page-turner . . . a wonderfully
nuanced novel that repays previous knowledge of its subject matter - but
never requires it -- Historical Fiction Review An absorbing, quasi-historical portrait of
ancient Greece ... well-balanced update that maintains the original's mythic
suspense. -- Kirkus, May 2005
A world...as compelling as Tolkien's but
more rooted in actual history...in the spirit of Graves's I, Claudius.
The most amazing part of the series is how the authors retell the
myths in such a way as to work for modern audiences.... definitely worth
reading by fans of fiction and Greek mythology. --NS Gill, About.com, Ancient History
Buying our
books helps support future contests!
A real page-turner . . . a wonderfully
nuanced novel that repays previous knowledge of its subject matter - but
never requires it -- Historical Fiction Review An absorbing, quasi-historical portrait
of ancient Greece ... well-balanced update that maintains the original's
mythic suspense. -- Kirkus, May 2005
A world...as compelling as Tolkien's but
more rooted in actual history...in the spirit of Graves's I, Claudius.
The most amazing part of the series is how the authors retell
the myths in such a way as to work for modern audiences.... definitely worth
reading by fans of fiction and Greek mythology. --NS Gill, About.com, Ancient History
Buying our
books helps support future contests!
A real page-turner . . . a wonderfully nuanced
novel that repays previous knowledge of its subject matter - but never
requires it -- Historical Fiction Review An absorbing, quasi-historical portrait
of ancient Greece ... well-balanced update that maintains the original's
mythic suspense. -- Kirkus, May 2005
A world...as compelling as Tolkien's but
more rooted in actual history...in the spirit of Graves's I, Claudius.
The most amazing part of the series is how the authors retell
the myths in such a way as to work for modern audiences.... definitely worth
reading by fans of fiction and Greek mythology. --NS Gill, About.com, Ancient History
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