Louisa won the Middle Years Section of the recent Autumn Ardingly Writing Competition with her vivid and touching poem, 'Goodbye Little Gold'.
Goodbye Little Gold
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
when I gazed up at the sky,
when I looked up at you,
up and up,
into a universe,
of dangling leaves,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Golden were you,
hanging like a silhouette
from your blue, blue sky,
hanging like a sparkling mirror,
mimicking the sun,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
fearing Earth and ground below,
Golden until the summer’s breeze,
entwined the Sun,
and drew forth autumns desire,
of a golden world,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
and golden was the wind’s whispers
bringing morning dusk,
hushing little Golden leaf,
with all the secrets of a golden world
like a lullaby,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
when I saw you,
dancing in the wind.
Dancing like a tiny soldier,
battling out at stormy sea.
Yes,
it is no game to play,
playing with the wind,
and now,
that little soldier has fallen,
the gust has swept away,
the ocean is,
quite now,
only mumbling satisfied,
as it prays,
for the little golden soul,
tumbling down horizon’s fall,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green.
Little Gold,
Once a long time ago,
Golden were you,
waiting,
longingly for your dream,
once to touch the ground
waiting patiently for the sun,
to pick up,
your golden threads,
dangling in the breeze,
and to play them softly and slowly,
in the chafing wind,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
admiring how your Summer left,
so silent and so quick,
too speechless to resist,
the cold madness,
swept in by golden dust,
of a new borne world,
humming sadly to the world,
like a sailor's ghost,
to the brushing beating waves,
thrashing on the shore,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Golden were you,
like loyal-brave-old tree,
which has held you promising,
little golden leaf,
which has held you promising
against sun, rain,
and wind crossing the seven seas,
not to let you fall,
desperate, crossing, twisting, branches,
not to break the golden pattern,
in a golden sky,
clingling furiously,
to the memories’ fading tunes,
of a king’s melody,
of a golden crown,
held by the seven senses,
above the sky and clouds,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
when winds bitter cry,
carried you off,
little golden leaf,
carried you off.
It slashes,
Another patch of gold,
from the now torn sky,
and carries,
this precious, piece of golden,
stolen sky,
through September’s day,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
Carried by the sharpened pranks,
of a hissing cat.
Chased,
by this eager beast,
in spirals rippling to the ground,
gliding with its husky whispers,
not long to touch the ground below,
down and down and down,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
Spinning down to mother Earth,
and suddenly,
A soft purr,
Escapes the pouncing cat,
and as in trance,
little,
gold touches the ground like a feather,
as the world spun round and round,
Yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Once a long time ago,
Golden were you,
before you reached Earth,
before you lay on damp, moist ground,
drenched from dew,
and warmed by the glimmering sun,
which twinkled through dancing tree tops,
drawing patterns to the ground,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
before you watched the father-some trees,
forced,
to bow in the wind,
which spread its wings
and flew up so high ,
into the blue blue sky,
that it tore the golden silhouette,
with its nasty cry,
and soon the mighty tree,
clinging to the ground,
reached its haggard branches,
above the devastating cry,
no more than a tired,
weary soldier,
withstanding bitter wind,
and burning sun,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
but violin’s golden threads haven been torn,
their golden colour has faded,
painting no more the spirited hymn,
in the cold, white frost,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
when tingling excitement,
of a young child’s heart,
was caught in the rage of the wind,
as its curious sparkling pair of green eyes,
watched you dance and gleam,
little golden leaf,
watched you gleam and dance,
admiring you,
and wishing upon you like a star,
wishing it could float and fly so high,
just like you had done,
in your fallen sky,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green.
Little Gold,
Once, a long time ago,
Golden were you,
when I saw you,
a piece of puzzle,
in my sky.
But now,
that you have touched no heaven,
little child has passed you by
trampling, marching
stomping, treading,
all your gold down to mother Earth.
looking up at all your sisters,
never seeing you again,
has lost your gold,
to wind and weather,
sung a song of snow and storm,
as the world spun round and round,
yellow, orange, red and green,
and somewhere even gold
Louisa Fink
November 2011
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