A TALENTED Runcorn pupil has won a national young writers award for her 'incredibly powerful' poetry.
Olivia Caldwell, a year five pupil at St Edward’s Catholic Primary in Runcorn, has been given significant recognition by way of an award for her 'beautiful' poem Painting Peace.
The talented 10-year-old was named one of five winners in the national Young Writers’ I Have A Dream' poetry competition.
Olivia's work was selected from over 31,000 entries submitted by pupils across the UK.
The competition challenged young writers to create a poem in any style inspired by a dream, whether real or imagined.
Tim Bullock, Olivia’s year five teacher, expressed immense pride in her success, saying: “Olivia’s achievement is truly remarkable and a testament to her creativity and dedication.
"We are incredibly proud of her and hope her success inspires others to explore their own creativity.”
Olivia not only bagged a trophy for her success but also won a fitness watch and a goody bag.
Competition judge, poet and author Mark Grist praised Olivia’s entry for its 'maturity' and 'powerful use of language'.
He said: "Olivia - Painting Peace is such a thoughtful, mature and beautifully controlled poem.
"Your use of colour as a metaphor throughout is incredibly powerful.
"Lines like ‘the palette is pain’ and ‘turning anger into amber’ show such careful thinking about language. This is a poem that balances sadness with hope in a very sophisticated way.
"You’ve taken a big idea and handled it with real control. I loved reading it. Well done.”
Here is Olivia's poem:
The world is drowning in colour, but not the kind that makes you smile.
It bleeds in bruised blues of sorrow,
In angry scarlet scars across cities,
In the pale, ghost-white silence, where voices are erased.
Everywhere I look, the palette is pain.
Borders drawn in black and fear,
Names shouted in crimson hate,
And yet, I still dream.
Not of brighter skies or prettier pictures,
But of repainting it all.
I dream of turning anger into amber,
Warm, forgiving, soft.
Of brushing over grief with gentle green,
Where things can grow again.
I dream of opening fear into sunrise yellow,
So no one ever has to hide.
Because this dream isn't a wish;
It's a weight I carry.
A hope that pulls at my ribs,
When I see the world tearing itself apart
For power, for pride, for nothing real.
Some days, it feels too heavy,
Some days I feel too small,
But even the smallest hands can still hold a brush.
And even the faintest wings, fragile, trembling, unsure,
Can still lift into the sky.
So I will keep painting.
Even if the canvas resists,
Even if the colours run.
I will paint kindness over cruelty,
I will paint understanding over ignorance,
I will paint peace over everything that tries to divide us.
And maybe, just maybe,
One day, the world will wake to find itself changed.
Not perfect, but softer, kinder.
Alive with colour,
And finally, finally at peace.
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