Congratulations to the winners of our April competition. Feeling inspired? Have a go at this month's prompt.
Sunday mass was pouring out when the bricks came tearing through the air. The sound of flutes and drums creating a rhythmic backdrop to the hatred. Children sang of a King long dead, in a country far away with their proud mothers by their side, banging the drums.
Uair a bha siud. Drumair. Seinneadair. Neach-gnìomhachais.
A-nis. Màthair. Sgìth. Mèaranaich.
Leabaidh dhìse. Leabaidh dhòmhsa
Ise a’ rànaich. Deòir nar sùilean.
Botal dhi. Cofaidh dhomh.
Sin i. Mo nighean bheag ghlic. Bioran-druma ann an làmhan beaga. A’ bualadh na druma. ’S mo chridhe a’ bualadh an aon bhuille.
Translation by the Gaelic Books Council
Once upon a time. Drummer. Singer. Business person.
Now. Mother. Tired. Yawning.
Bedtime for her. Bedtime for me.
Her crying. Tears in our eyes.
A bottle for her. Coffee for me.
That’s her. My clever wee girl. A drumstick in small hands. Striking the drum. And my heart beating the same rhythm.
Young writers (12–18) winner
Grace Clark, age 14
Ra-ta-ta-Tara. Ra-ta-ta-Tara. The drums kept a steady beat as the priestess's around began to dance. Weaving around the cold, indifferent, statue. Keeping pace with the drums. They danced until their feet ached but still the drums resounded. It made no difference. If their goddess was real, wouldn’t she save them?
Young writers (5–11) winner
Alanna Malhotra, age 9
I used to be a tub of sweets, but then all my sweets were gone. My kind owner gave me a new life, but this time as a drum. He opened me up, gave me a skin. Then tidied me up, gave me some paint. Now everyone adores me.