Congratulations to our April Writing Challenge winners!

                              

WE'RE EXCITED TO SHARE THE WINNERS OF THE SCWC APRIL WRITING CHALLENGE 

** Read the winning poems below **

The Southern Christian Writers Conference's April Writing Challenge was to write a poem (any style and length) about any aspect of Spring. (This challenge coincided with National Poetry Month, which is celebrated across the country by both readers and writers of poetry. You can learn more about the month here.)

We were sent so many wonderful submissions, making the decision on winners a very difficult one.

Thank you to everyone who submitted! We loved reading each and every one of them.

Congratulations to our top winners:

1st place: Beth Sullivan 
2nd place: Nan Carlton
3rd place: Melanie Milton
Honorable mentions: Maryjean Gregory, Patricia Tiffany Morris

Enjoy reading the winning poems...

"A Crack in My Driveway"

There is a crack in my driveway.

It split open after the ice storm—

winter giving way

with a fracture.

Weeks later

the weeds arrived.

Dandelion.

Chickweed.

Plantain.

Purslane.

Uninvited.

Unkempt.

Unwanted.

I pulled them out.

They returned.

I poured boiling water

into the seam.

They returned.

Vinegar.

Salt.

Scraping at the roots.

They returned.

Week after week

of green defiance.

I called them cursed.

I called them stubborn.

I called them proof

that things fall apart

when you stop tending them.

The crack widened in my mind.

“Fine,” I said at last.

“The weeds can have it.”

Let go and let God.

So I stepped back

and waited

for Him to clear

what I could not.

And they grew.

And grew.

I watched the green thicken

and felt the quiet accusation rise:

If You know best,

why does what I fight

keep flourishing?

Why do You let

what I do not want

take root?

The crack I tried to seal

was not only in concrete.

So I knelt.

Not to pull—

but to look.

Not weeds.

Plants.

Life pressing upward

through stone,

through neglect,

through cold.

They do not wait

for ideal conditions.

They rise

where they are given a sliver.

Perhaps this is what strength looks like.

I leaned closer.

The dandelion—

a sudden sun

in gray cement.

Food.

Medicine.

Chickweed—

tender nourishment.

Plantain—

healer of skin.

Purslane—

succulent, sustaining.

Flowers.

Wildflowers.

What I cursed

was provision.

What I tried to kill

was resilience.

What I named disorder

was design.

The crack was not a mistake.

It was an opening.

And God,

patient with my fury,

had been tending

a garden

in the narrowest place.

-- by Beth Sullivan

"2-8-6-4-5"

The girl stands at the base

of an old tree

looking skyward.

Although no bystanders are present,

still, she whispers,

“2-8-6-4-5.”

“Permission granted to climb aboard,”

the boy belts out

with the assumed authority

of an older brother.

The girl smiles and

scurries up the tree trunk

with ease.

Winter hibernation only

a faint memory now,

the two pilots

perch in the apple tree’s

makeshift cockpit,

their yet-to-be tanned legs

dangling below sturdy branches.

Here, amidst a heady fragrance

wafting in the air

from a profusion of pinkish-white blossoms,

childhood dreams take flight.

And imaginations soar up… Up… UP…

above

      treetop canopies,

            church steeples,

                  mountain peaks,

                        and billowy clouds.

2-8-6-4-5:

Secret password between aviators.

2-8-6-4-5:

Hometown zip code.

-- by Nan Carlton

"The Bling of Spring"

A blooming good time was had by all

As raindrops peppered their days.

The moonlight popped out while shining his clout -

As breezes blew through in soft praise.

The Iris was smiling as the Crocus sprang forth

A Tulip stood tall among friends.

Daffodils swayed as Peonies just played –

Winter Jasmine edged low with a grin.

Snowdrops showed up, as they often do

And Ferns hung out with new buds.

Bleeding Hearts, they did pop; Lilies danced ‘til they dropped

Lenten Roses modeled brand new duds.

The crickets and frogs had joined in the fun

Chicks and ducklings each strutted their bling.

The invitation was clear … it was now time to cheer -

Mother Nature was hosting her Spring!

-- by Melanie Milton 

"Spring Fever"

Now the afternoon grows a wee bit longer,
Today’s sunlight feels a wee bit stronger;
A sweet scented breeze rustles my curtain
While I fidget inside; I’m pretty certain—
I have spring fever.

Beyond my curtain, spring blossoms abound,
Pollen and dandelion wisps cover the ground.
These float on the air and drift with the breeze,
Causing my eyes to itch and making me sneeze—
I have hay fever.

-- by Maryjean B. Gregory

 

"garden of mended yesterdays"

the fragments of your heart

like petals of a dying rose—

faded pieces of a whole—

pressed thin 

tired

shivering

under grandma’s quilt

the suffering threads

of your past

flowers rise

from your grave

my sorrow 

reels at your loss

like honeysuckle 

and fragrant prose—

word bouquets and sentiments—

are not enough to heal

spoken pure 

in pleasant tones—

the garden 

of mended yesterdays—

that bring hope to love again

and to smell the flowers

there’s always time to heal 

let’s plant a winter garden inside

so we’ll have time to say all we need

for healing

until spring reveals the honeysuckle

and roses rise again

-- by Patricia Tiffany Morris

~~~~


Want to participate in our next monthly challenge? Get involved in our SCWC Facebook community; we share our latest challenges there at the first of the month.

Want to read our winners from last year? We publish our monthly winners in an e-book anthology The Write Collection.

We loved celebrating National Poetry Month with all of our members, and had an additional challenge shared solely in our Facebook group to write poems each Friday of April. We'll be recognizing our favorite poems from those challenges on May 3 in the group. Check it out then!

** The Southern Christian Writers Conference is a group that aims to educate and encourage writers of faith. We'd love for you to get involved in all of our activities!