Poetry

Annual Journeying Poetry Competition

Begun in 2021 the competition attracts entrants from around the world.

How it works

The competition theme for the year is announced in mid-September. Entries must reach the judges no later than midnight (GMT) on the last Saturday in October.

Poems of any length are invited. Just one entry per person. There is no charge.

Entries should be sent by email attachment, using the subject heading ‘Poetry Competition’, to: info@journeying.co.uk

Keep it original

Entries must be original and not previously published elsewhere. All entries will be judged anonymously.

The prize

The winning poet will receive £100 sterling and the Winner's Commemorative Certificate. Two further Highly Commended prizes worth £50.00 each will also be provided. The winning poem will be published on the Journeying website, social media platforms and in Sharing the Journey. Beyond this, copyright remains with the author. There will also be a press release.

Judges

David Arkell

David is the Organist at Sherborne Girls’ School in Dorset, where he teaches music and accompanies the choirs. Favourite pastimes include hill-walking and cross-country cycling. His book ‘Divine Loves’ was published in 2019 and can be obtained via Journeying. David has been a member of the judging panel since the inauguration of the competition in 2021.

Gill Page

Gill is Chair of Journeying. Her interest in poetry was ignited in childhood and resurrected 20 years ago. She enjoys going to poetry recitals and lectures on poetry and has a fine collection of poetry books, including Mary Oliver, R.S. Thomas, Ted Hughes and those friends who have published for themselves. Her love of the poetry of the Psalms inspires her for all aspects of life. She believes great poems come to life when read aloud and what nicer way to do this than on a Journeying walk or pilgrimage with friends, surrounded by God’s beautiful creation.

Winning Poems

Eagle’s Wings by Becky Isaac
Oak and beech, forlorn and naked, stretching heavenward, beseeching
Spring to reappear, to warm their gnarled and twisted branches, reaching,
Black against the steely mist, where dilute sunlight trickles through
melancholy clouds of coral, to light up pearls of morning dew,
that glint amongst bare earth and grass made sparse by mouldering leaves,
Where twigs lie scattered, broken like resolutions made on New Year’s Eve.
But through those bleak and dismal days, hope sparks a flame within our being,
Sending shadows of despair and spirits from dark places fleeing,
Though tiny as a newborn’s fist, hope spreads like ripples in a pond,
Penetrating morning’s gloom, like the blackbird’s daybreak song,
Hope is the sliver of light that’s dawn, the chink in Night’s black armour,
It’s the latent energy stored in a bud, nature’s ceaseless unfolding drama.
The olive branch, the ceasefire, an anchor in the storm,
It soars with eagle’s wings above where doubts like locusts swarm.

Longing by Jason Clark
The city recedes into the rear-view mirror,
a hushed echo of life left behind.
My soul stretches toward the cathedral of nature,
where trees rise like sacred columns,
and the sky arches – a hallowed roof over my path.
This is a pilgrimage in which the trail is the teacher,
each step a rosary bead,
whispering mysteries of stone and wind.
My longing to see where waters weep
and willows standing watch in silence – is more than I can bear.
With faltering steps, as if on a pilgrimage for mercy,
I bow my head to the heights with their crowns and to the meadows with their velvet,
and here, where earth gathers me to her bosom,
in every leaf and every root I discover
the holy site I was searching for,
an altar prepared by God.

Jill by Wendy Stickley
She hugged trees, did my whacky friend,
she talked to bees and flowers ... and trees.
She was the first ‘friend of the earth’ I knew.
She grew her veg organically, did nothing
much mechanically, but everything
with love. Summer evenings she would walk
up on the downs, with child and kittens
in a pram, six goats, bells tinkling, and a dog
following like lambs, through harebells sprinkled
at her feet, sweet scent of honeysuckle in the air.
Yes, there was love, and love to spare.
She had capacity, audacity, to love all
things; to rise above sorrows as if on wings.
She baked bread without bitterness, used heart
not head to listen; taught me we’re a part
of something greater. Later, then, there was
no trace of anger, when the diagnosis came.
Life without her has never been the same.

Iona by Wendy Stickley
I stepped where St Columba might have trod
and worn a path towards a sandy bay;
where he, too, might have paused and looked in wonder
before continuing along his way.
I saw the spouting cave he might have known,
leant into winds he also would have battled,
I smelled the seaweed, thick upon the strand,
and heard faint lowing from the highland cattle.
I crossed the shell-fragmented, ancient machair,
past lakes and thickets to a pebble beach,
imagining the great man’s humble presence,
the privilege of listening to him teach.
And here, where winds and waves so seldom cease,
I found a deep and elemental peace.

Glen Nant by Rosemary Power
That day before spring
The westering sun touched
brown boughs pale gold
and birch trunks glowed
soft silver.
Did once tired feet
seeking elusive Love
come down the glen and see
the pilgrim path alight with hint
of hope beyond their time?
Did the Nant wash
stained bruises, soil, off soles,
and Cruachan raise her crown,
white still and wheeled
with eagles, her flanks
sheltering deer?
Did the sun touch
plague-weary wanderers
of our time, rootless and yearning
for lands behind the light?
Was each enclosed in glow that day
embracing hungry body and defeated mind,
and shine pale gold?
(Glen Nant, near Taynuilt, Argyll, Scotland is part of a medieval pilgrimage route).

Becky Isaac, 2025 Winner with "Eagle's Wings"

Becky Isaac is a writer, mum to two adult children, and nature lover. Living in a small village in the heart of the South Staffordshire countryside, with her partner and miniature schnauzer, she finds plenty of opportunities to commune with creation. In fact, country walks are often the spark that lights the flame of creativity. After six years of studying alongside mostly full-time employment, Becky achieved a Bachelor of Arts (Honours) in Art and Humanities (Creative Writing) with First Class Honours in 2024. She enjoys writing poetry, short stories and flash fiction, along with nature-inspired devotionals. She is on a writer’s journey of her own, aiming to finish her first cosy crime novel within the next few months!

Jason Clark, 2024 Winner with 'Longing"

Jason is a poet, educator and contemplative, living in Oklahoma City. Inspired by nature, spirituality, and moments of quiet reflection, his work explores the intersection of the sacred and the everyday. When not writing, he enjoys crafting natural products and nature walks).

Wendy Stickley, 2023 Winner with "Jill"

Wendy lives in the beautiful New Forest. Now retired, she spends much of her time walking, sailing her little dinghy or paddling a kayak. These activities bring her into the midst of the natural world and allow her time and space to think, and to create. For her, nature and spirituality are inextricably bound.

Wendy Stickley, 2022 Winner with "Iona"