St Pancras International hosts John Betjeman Poetry Competition Awards Ceremony
Eleven year old Jennifer Burville-Riley was announced as the winner of the John Betjeman Poetry Competition 2011 at a special prize giving ceremony held on the Upper Concourse of St Pancras International on Tuesday 4 October. Joanna Lumley, the patron of the Betjeman Poetry Competition, presented Jennifer with her prize.
The ceremony was held around the station’s well loved sculpture of the former poet laureate. Sir John is credited with saving St Pancras from demolition in the 1960s, and the Martin Jennings statue is a fitting tribute to the poet. Host Brian Patten also gave a recital of his own original poems to mark the event.
A number of distinguished guests attended the awards ceremony, including Edward Fox, Joanna David, Phyllida Law, Hugh Whitemore, A.N. Wilson and Andrew Martin. The two very close runners-up on an exceptionally strong shortlist were Daisy Adams and Dualtagh Grundy. The highly commended entrants were Alexander Christie, Charlie Corlett, Madeleine Southey, and Gabriel de Sousa. More than 3000 young people entered this year's competition.
(photo credit: Rickford Compton)
‘Saint Wyllows Bridge’ by Jennifer Burville-Riley
This is a bridge between summer term and autumn,
Weather-bleached boards
across a Cornish creek
where tidal waters ebb and ease,
where riverweed dances
to the ocean’s pulse,
where armoured crabs
battle underwater
and treasure-fragments
await my discovery.
This is a bridge between truth and myth:
I press my ear to the creaking timbers,
sensing the ancient steps
of a persecuted saint
who walked a half-mile
to reach this bridge,
cradling his own
decapitated head.
I taste his salt-tears,
sharp to my tongue,
hear teardrops
flow to a grieving sea.
This is a bridge between past and present:
I conjure visions
of colourful barges
docked at the quay
in bustling days of industry,
loaded with coal and limestone rocks
destined for the fiery kilns.
There are pack mules and horse drawn carts.
There are children gathered
to watch men at work.
This is a bridge between childlife and teenhood,
a place to catch eels, net crabs, to dive or float,
build driftwood rafts, watch bats by moonlight,
hunt for ghosts, read books, skim stones.
I text my friends but find there’s no signal,
scrawl a note instead and stick it in a bottle,
drop it in the water,
the twinkling river light
winks back
as my summer-self stands
between two worlds.
