Royal Hospital School Pupil Wins 2nd Place in Prestigious Poetry Competition
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1 month ago
Read Daniel's Award Winning Poem 'The Way of the Water' below.
The Oxford Canal Festival Poetry Competition is an annual competition of quite some renown. With prizes presented by the likes of Sir Philip Pullman and Roy McFarlane FRSL, and a single category accepting entrants between 12-18 from all over the country, one can imagine that the quality of the competition was high indeed.
That’s why Royal Hospital School is so proud of Daniel Otsapa for coming second. Daniel’s only in year nine – this means that his poem was judged against veteran 18-year-old poets and came out on top.
‘We are incredibly proud of Daniel’s achievement in this highly regarded competition,’ says Irfan Latif, Headmaster of the Royal Hospital School. ‘His dedication to his craft, and the recognition of his talent by such prominent figures in the literary world, is an inspiration to all of us at RHS. We look forward to seeing how Daniel’s creative journey will continue to flourish.’
The focus of the Oxford Canal Festival Poetry Competition is around the natural world – it aims to encourage young people to express their connection to the biosphere through poetry. Daniel’s poem, ‘The Way of the Water’ (which can be read in full below) was recognised for its creativity, depth, and originality.
The Way of the Water by Daniel Otsapa
‘I am the river, a liquid thread,
Winding through earth’s tangled spread,
Whispers of life in every bend,
A tale that neither starts nor ends.
I dance with stones and kiss the reeds,
Carry secrets, ancient creeds,
Through canyon’s edge and forest’s shade,
I carve the paths the earth has laid.
The fish know well my silver flow,
In my depths, their stories grow,
They swim in dreams, in currents glide,
A world within where they abide.
The otter laughs in bubbling glee,
Rolling, tumbling, wild and free,
In my embrace, it finds its play,
A joyful dance that never sways.
The heron stands on slender legs,
Patient, poised above my dregs,
Its gaze, a spear, its strike, a flash,
We share a moment in the splash.
The beaver builds, its teeth of might,
Its dams redirect my flight,
But I am water, soft and strong,
I find new ways to move along.
The moon pulls me in tidal sways,
I rise and fall in nightly praise,
Reflecting stars upon my skin,
A mirror of the worlds within.
The rain returns me to the sky,
In misty trails, I learn to fly,
I gather clouds in soft embrace,
Then fall again to find my place.
I feed the roots, the thirsty land,
A nurturing and gentle hand,
I am the blood that cycles through,
The veins of earth in shades of blue.
And so I flow, with life in tow,
Through every peak and every low,
An endless journey, evermore,
For I am water, river, lore.’