Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

Stranger Things At Sea

by Brian New

What his glittering eye had seen.
It wasn’t the pecking Kraken,
overturning gorgeous tankers.
It wasn’t the pouting Sirens,
lisping silver notes for crimson.
It wasn’t the preening Leviathan,
thundering flesh before the sun.
Early in the week he glimpsed:
limping after sunrise, across
the face of the deadpan deep.

Added: 28.04.2011

Judges' comments on this poem


needed a bit more i felt xxx