Look at the Welsh Festival Poetry Announcement 2019
Submissions window for the 2018 Welsh Festival has closed.
Come to the festival and learn who the winners are.
See our 2018 Poetry Winners
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1st Place – Malad Welsh Festival BARD 2018
IT’S A GOOD TREE
by Dotty Thorpe Evanson
Mother’s eyes and Daddy’s chin,
Grandpa’s ears and Granny’s grin,
All these things make up me,
Got them off the family tree.Aunt Rachael’s curls and Heber’s toes,
Great-grandma’s dimples, Richard’s nose,
I always thought I looked like me,
But all I’ve got has been on that tree.I guess that’s why come rain or shine,
What’s mine is theirs and theirs is mine.
I am unique – there’s just one me,
But it all came off that family tree!
2nd Place 2018
THE BARN
by Annette Davis Elcock
In this barn, a shadowed place,
a hayloft door restrains the space
of old straw and meadow hay,
spider webs and saddles, all sizes they.The hanging ropes, all frayed and worn–
an old hat that’s tired and torn . . . .
hang on reflections of bygone days
and fill my mind with olden ways.
Where my parents return again through time
and leave sweet memories in my mind.
3rd Place 2018
THE PIONEER GRAVE
by Cory Webster
Where will you find me?
In the tall grass
Along the trail’s row,
In the wind where wild seeds sow,
Or over on the high rocky places
Among the thistle and sage,
Or in the changing seasons
A broken ridge my stage.
I expect you’ll come looking
Where might I be found?
Beside a mountain mahogany
Or on some higher ground.
Is my name still mentioned
Among the great and small?
Will you remember where I rest?
Does the wind recall?
4th Place 2018
DAD’S SADDLE
by Matt Wray
Out in the tack shed near the back wall,
Hangs Dad’s saddle equipped with breast collar and all.
It hasn’t been used much in the last couple of years,
To see it brings back a lot of good memories and a few tears.Dad’s saddle doesn’t do much other than gather dust now,
It’s been some time since its horn was used to dally a cow.
But the scars and wear are reminders that it wasn’t always that way,
There was a time when Dad’s saddle was used most every day.In the spring he rode fence to see where it needed mendin’,
In the summer he used it to do the water tendin’.
It was used to bring the cows off the range in the fall,
Or to go elk hunting up in Sawmill; boy, that was a ball!In the winter he used it to carry a calf in from the cold,
Or ride out to doctor a cow that was sick or growin’ old.
Dad used his saddle to rope and cut and brand,
And sometimes just to ride and get a feel for the land.When Dad got sick with cancer it shortened his stride,
His saddle had to stay behind when he took his final ride.
I’m sure he would have taken it with him, if only he could,
But havin’ it here on this side has done my soul a lot of good.Ya see, every once in awhile when I go back home,
I step out to the tack shed and let my memories roam.
Back to a time when life wasn’t such a battle,
Back to the days when Dad sat in his saddle.
Honorable Mention 2018
GRANDMA’S HOUSE
by Patsy Scott
My Grandma was a special lady;
She was loved by all.
We loved to go to her house,
Especially in the Fall.Up the lane we would go–
Thanksgiving Day was here.
Away to Grandma’s house we’d go
To meet with those that we held dear.All the cousins would gather there–
Aunts and Uncles by the score.
There would be lots of food to share;
Oh, what fun would be in store.The water came up with a pump;
It came from the bottom of the well.
It was so cold and, oh, so good;
It was enjoyed by all, you could tell.Dinner was cooked on the old coal stove;
At times it was very hot.
It seemed to make things taste better–
We were to eat all we took, whether we liked it or not.The children thought they would eat first,
But that was not to be.
The adults always ate first;
That’s the way it was then, you see.Out on the porch Grandma had a cellar door;
It slanted down, just so.
We were told, “Now don’t slide down it!”
But as soon as their backs were turned
Down the cellar door we would go.We had turkey and roasted chicken.
The plum pudding and pumpkin pie were, oh, so good.
Homemade rolls and much, much more —
And we all acted just as we should.When the day was over, and it was time to go;
We had enjoyed all the food and the fun.
We hated to leave all our cousins and friends —
Mother said, “We must be on the run.”
We all said, “It was fun to go to Grandma’s House.”Times and situations changed;
And now it was time for my children
To sing “To Grandmother’s House we go!”
Another Grandma, another house,
Other cousins for them to know.We still pumped the well for water.
We still cooked on a stove that burned wood.
Instead of being carefree with time to play
I had to help all I could.Coming from a large family
There was not time to spare.
There was lots of food to prepare,
And we all had to do our share.My mother was such a good cook;
She was quiet, patient and kind.
Although we were a little crowded,
No one seemed to mind.We had so much to be thankful for —
We were healthy, happy with plenty to eat.
Here we were together as a family;
A thanksgiving like that can’t be beat.
And my children said, “It’s fun to go to Grandma’s House.”I was thinking the other day
I have so much to be thankful for.
I have my children, 27 grandkids, 80 great-grandkids and maybe even more.
Where would I put them all
If they came knocking at my door?Then I heard these words – “It’s your turn, mom;
We’ll all be there.
We spent last Thanksgiving with our in-laws
It’s your turn for blessings to share.”So I hurried to the store;
Bought the two biggest turkeys I could find.
And if we are a little crowded,
I hope that they won’t mind.We’ll have our traditional Thanksgiving dinner–
Turkey, homemade dressing, pumpkin chiffon pie and much more.
We’ll have homemade rolls, cranberry sauce,
And Khalil’s cole slaw salad, for sure.Maybe Bryan will think of something to add to the day;
Maybe he will think of another prank.
He will have slips for each one to draw with a task to do
And be the only one that comes up with a blank.When the day is over,
I hope that I can hear,
“It’s fun to go to Grandma’s House;
Let’s go again next year.”