Grade 9 Inter-class Poetry Competition
“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found its words.“
– Robert Frost
Robert Frost , William Wordsworth , Maya Angelou , Edgar Allen, and countless other poets have revolutionized the world of poetry and have shown future generations how a few lines can possess meaning that surpasses entire books.
With that in mind, I founded the Wordsmith Society for poems, tiny tales, essays and analyzing literature. Our first event was the Grade 9 Interclass Poetry Competition , where each class selected two competitors for the categories ‘A World Reimagined’ and ‘Nature’s Intricacies.’
After receiving all twenty submissions, I was surprised to see the diversity of thought within the same topic – From chocolate fountains to the rights of minorities, from squirrels in wooden oak to Mother Earth’s canvas – such unique notions have truly impressed us. Despite having a hard time selecting the winning poets, the judging panel decided and felicitated the winners during the end of term assembly for grades 9 and 10 this Tuesday.
Below are the winners for both categories :-
Nature’s Intricacies
- 1st Place – Nitya Ramchandani
- 2nd Place – Vayun Tandon
- 3rd Place – Uditi Khandelwal
A World Reimagined
- 1st Place – Sherlyn Rodrigues
- 2nd Place – Spriha Pandey
- 3rd Place – Ishaan Jagande
The following are snippets of the poems submitted for the competition:
I’d write to the beautiful sunrise,
Of the oranges and pinks,
While I sit beside the seashore,
Where are waves can smudge my ink.
by Anshul Parikh
An early jog, run or walk,
Through the minty air and candy stocks.
Your feet dragging though the spiky floor
Of dead chocolate grass that you can restore.
by Sanjana Ray
Frost is thawing on the leaves,
Branches hang above like eaves,
A brand-new nest the robin weaves,
Another year of spring.
by Joshua Varghese
If I were to sit in a silent vigil,
Reeling through thoughts of human iniquity.
Would I break from the despair that’ll seep through my bones?
Would I still be sane after hours of lunacy?
by Sherlyn Rodrigues
Run with me into the forest depths
Where the moon does not dare to shine,
Where the wild assails our noses
With the primitive scent of pine.
by Nitya Ramchandani
From the first glimmer of sunrise
to the last crescent of the moon,
tangled vines woven together
like a blanket,
sheltering the heather from the cold.
by Uditi Khandelwal
I would also like to extend my gratitude to Mrs. Sumaiya for guiding and supporting me through this initiative. We also plan to launch a poetry tree for grade 9 soon, so keep your best works ready!
– Vedanth Aggarwal (9F)