stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 17204
    [post_author] => 5
    [post_date] => 2016-09-09 10:08:24
    [post_date_gmt] => 2016-09-09 10:08:24
    [post_content] => a breath, and the notes fall on dark water,
hesitant at first, but then sailing, like pale

adjacent bodies rising on the blue hips of a 
young girl. I think of this girl's heart, hollowed

by the hands of that man, careful as they carve it
to a canoe pushed out on to this ocean. Quavers

like geese follow as it skims, blemishing the
Stillness for only a second, bending the air, a

perfect house made out of water. Somehow you never
think anything can hold you this tight by the ribs and

still breathe. In my mind I think of the couple, spools of
song pulsing beneath their boat, stellate and wet

against eyelids as it makes tracks like stains on my
skin, a journey with an end best left unsaid. I think of

that tiny fistful of love, of blood feuds, of that
girl running in from blue coldness, only to meet

her crescendo, accelerando,
fine.
    [post_title] => Juliet on water
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => juliet-on-water
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2018-10-17 10:46:05
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2018-10-17 10:46:05
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=17204
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem was a winner of the BBC Proms Poetry Competition, junior category. The competition asked people to write poems inspired by a piece of music from the 2016 Proms Season. This poem was inspired by Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture by Pyotr Illyich Tchaikovsky.

Judged by poet and The Verb presenter Ian McMillan, Scottish Makar Jackie Kay and Poetry Society Director Judith Palmer, the winning poems were announced at an event on BBC Radio 3 as part of the Proms Season 2016. [wpcf-rights-information] => [wpcf-poem-award] => 1st Prize, BBC Proms Poetry Competition 2016 (junior category) [wpcf_pr_belongs] => ) [poet_data] => stdClass Object ( [ID] => 16366 [forename] => [surname] => [title] => Lucy Thynne [slug] => lucy-thynne [content] => Lucy Thynne is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2016, 2017 and 2018. She is also second-prize winner in the 2018 August challenge #1 on prose poetry on Young Poets Network and a winner in the 2016 Behind the Curtain poetry challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the V&A Museum. She is a winner in the 2015 Young Poets Network Christina Broom and the Suffragettes writing challenge, was commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2015 and the Young Poets Network Festive Feasts, Eve of St Agnes Challenge, and won the BBC Proms Poetry Competition junior category in 2016. ) )
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 16366
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Lucy Thynne
    [slug] => lucy-thynne
    [content] => Lucy Thynne is a top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2016, 2017 and 2018. She is also second-prize winner in the 2018 August challenge #1 on prose poetry on Young Poets Network and a winner in the 2016 Behind the Curtain poetry challenge on Young Poets Network, in partnership with the V&A Museum. She is a winner in the 2015 Young Poets Network Christina Broom and the Suffragettes writing challenge, was commended in the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2015 and the Young Poets Network Festive Feasts, Eve of St Agnes Challenge, and won the BBC Proms Poetry Competition junior category in 2016.
)

Juliet on water

Lucy Thynne

a breath, and the notes fall on dark water,
hesitant at first, but then sailing, like pale

adjacent bodies rising on the blue hips of a 
young girl. I think of this girl’s heart, hollowed

by the hands of that man, careful as they carve it
to a canoe pushed out on to this ocean. Quavers

like geese follow as it skims, blemishing the
Stillness for only a second, bending the air, a

perfect house made out of water. Somehow you never
think anything can hold you this tight by the ribs and

still breathe. In my mind I think of the couple, spools of
song pulsing beneath their boat, stellate and wet

against eyelids as it makes tracks like stains on my
skin, a journey with an end best left unsaid. I think of

that tiny fistful of love, of blood feuds, of that
girl running in from blue coldness, only to meet

her crescendo, accelerando,
fine.