‘Let there be light!’ [old]

Candlestick Press micropoem competition 2015

#candlelightNPD

In support of this year’s National Poetry Day theme on the subject of Light, we’re running our very first micropoem competition via Twitter.

Timeline

24th Sept – 7th October 2015

Judge

Candlestick Press editor Di Slaney

Entries

It’s free and easy to enter. Just tweet us your poem on the theme of Light in 140 characters or less, and caption #candlelightNPD so we can see and retweet you. All entries will be retweeted. If you don’t have Twitter, post your 140 characters on Facebook, still using #candelightNPD but tag @candlestickpress in your post. Your poem must be in English, and on the theme of Light. You may enter as many times as you wish, but each poem entry must be a separate tweet and you must use the hashtag. Entries outside the competition dates or without the hashtag will unfortunately not be eligible for the competition. The judge’s decision is final and no correspondence will be entered into. The winners will be announced on National Poetry Day, 8th October 2015.

Prizes

First Prize: a pair of vintage wooden candlesticks, 10 free Candlestick Press pamphlets of your choice, and publication on Candlestick Press Website, Facebook and Twitter.

Two Commended Prizes: 3 Candlestick Press pamphlets of your choice and publication on Candlestick Press Facebook and Twitter.

Inspiration

To flick the switch on your creativity, here’s a lovely poem from our Ten Poems about Mothers pamphlet for inspiration:

The Habit of Light
In the early evening she liked to switch on the lamps
in corners, on low tables, to show off her brass,
her polished furniture, her silver and glass.
At dawn she’d draw all the curtains back for a glimpse
of the cloud-lit sea. Her oak floors flickered
in an opulence of beeswax and light.
In the kitchen, saucepans danced their lids, the kettle purred
on the Aga, supper on its breath and the buttery melt
of a pie, and beyond the swimming glass of old windows,
in the deep perspective of the garden, a blackbird singing,
she’d come through the bean rows in tottering shoes,
her pinny full of strawberries, a lettuce, bringing
the palest potatoes in a colander, her red hair bright
with her habit of colour, her habit of light.

Gillian Clarke

Good luck! We look forward to reading your entries.