Age 8 and younger
First Place
Tennessee
Lilli Edwards, Upper Cumberland EMC
I like Tennessee,
don’t you see.
It’s a ton of fun.
Sitting under a tree
is very quiet, you should
try it. Tennessee is a
great place to be.
Age 9-13
First Place
Spirit Animals
Samantha Rosencrants, Cumberland Electric Membership Corporation
My spirit animals are
those that fly in
the vivid, bright sky.
The wings of the butterfly.
Shiny, glisten, sparkles
on that butterflies’ wings.
My spirit animals are
those that stalk in the night.
Fruit bat, flutters, in
the oil-colored sky.
Eating the sweets that
god’s hands have given.
My spirit animals are
those that swim
in the crystal waters.
The catfish, swimming
swiftly in the river,
with the bugs and slugs.
My spirit animals are
those that are beautiful,
strong, and swift.
Second Place
A Path to my Tennessee Heart
Haylee Ferguson, Middle Tennessee Electric Membership Corporation
The path to my Tennessee heart is crazy and twisted
The electric beat sends fire through my soul
As it strives to find its way home
Continuing to the rhythm bum, bum, bum,
bum
The path to my heart is wild and free
Flowing like the Tennessee river inside of
me
With the beat of its own drum
Continuing to hear bum, bum, bum, bum
My Tennessee heart finally found its way
Though now old and gray
Time for my heart to say goodnight
Filled with emotions, thoughts and tears
Repaired with stitches and years
My heart’s run is done
Third Place
Mr. Memory of Tennessee
Reagan Honeycutt, Sequachie Valley Electric Cooperative
“Oh Mr. Memory please don’t leave I don’t want to forget!”
“It’s Ok I will not leave, oh darling do not fret. For there will come a bit of time when you’ll fear I’ll fade away,
but I am your own memory so listen when I say;
Past is Past and Present is Present but Future is, so much different and though right now I seem to be the
past I really am an the future too, for in the future you will have memories just like me, but brand new.”
Age 14-18
First Place
River-Cycle
Anna Kurschner, Chickasaw EC
By moss-bound banks the Mississippi
Creeps on ever ever longer
Wrapped in wonder
Tearing Tennessee asunder
Yet heritage its waters binding
In all its twisting, dipping, winding
River weeds are bending, sliding
Into a dappled liquid wave
Toiling onward always brave
Till reaching open ocean grave
Dispersing into larger ways
Taking throughout endless days
Vestiges of southern lays
By moss-bound banks, the Mississippi.
Second Place
Southern Pond
Anna Stuart
Between the marsh and swamp I lie,
Hemmed in by tangled forest,
Where muddy brooks go murmuring out,
To brave the leafy torrent.
Upon my banks the rushes dance,
And creepers mark the way.
I am the hold of skies untold,
The place where raindrops play.
I hear the merry croak of frogs,
The coo of mourning doves.
I feel the sun in radiant warmth,
The wind in rippling waves.
I am the place time passes by,
Whose waters never change,
A Southern stream that fell to dreams,
And never woke again.
Third Place
Sweet Tennessee
Caroline Mabry, Middle Tennessee Electric Membership Corporation
Skin deeply tanned with defined wrinkles
The same UT cap with holes and wear
Blue jean legs crossed and dignified
Hands calloused and stories hidden within
Cheeky eyes ready to tell a joke
The chair worn and deeply loved
Brown boots caked yet steady
Wiry hair kept and hidden
This picture I hold in my heart and hang on my wall for just a snap can tell a story greater than them all.
Age 19-22
First Place
Revelations of a Memphis Artist
Hunter Keough, Pickwick EC
Stare across the river
below the city whispers—
the red light,
the Bluff— and call
below; the city whispers
“Memphis, sadness, home.”
The Bluff and call
remind me I am
Memphis, sadness, home.
Raindrops, every color, pink and gold,
remind me I am
cotton to be plucked, I am
raindrops, every color. Pink and gold
baptize the city; Memphis is
cotton to be plucked. I am
smoldering as my eyes
baptize the city. Memphis is
the red light
smoldering as my eyes
stare across the river.
Second Place
Orange
Stephanie Lloyd, Plateau Electric Cooperative
Knoxville’s favorite color
decorates its autumn mountains
and its year-round pride.
Basketballs fail to reflect
so vibrant a hue as a football stadium,
forever claiming Peyton as its man.
Body paint shines brighter
than a road worker’s safety vest.
Team spirit sparkles like a citrus,
and regrets of rusty sunburns
melt like creamsicles in the desert.
Third Place
Few May Know
Marlena Jenkins, Middle Tennessee Electric Membership Corporation
The rolling hills of Tennessee,
Few may know how much they mean to me.
Venture out, turn around,
And see all we could not live without.
A small town feel, a big city mind,
Few know what we are truly about.
It’s not just hot chicken and what’s in.
It’s driving, windows down with the ones you love.
It’s the man upstairs, up above.
It’s not just artsy pictures and coffee shops.
It’s growing non-stop and thinking on hilltops.
It’s every summer you spent at Pop’s.
The rolling hills of Tennessee,
Few may know how much they mean to me.
Age 23-64
First Place
Mother Tennessee
Lisa Best, Cumberland Electric Membership Corporation
My Mother
Tennessee
that three starred love deep in the heart of me
Kissing my memory with honeysuckle mist
soft as mockingbird wings
In fringe dresses and boots she dances
down music city streets
while her rich voice echoes
coal miners’ daughters
and of Great Smoky Mountains
she sings
On lightning bug nights in summer
she speaks
a southern drawl over glasses of sweetest tea
She looks toward the future
far as her iris eyes can see
and in her arms she carries a photo album
the rich but faded past
the history of our family
Second Place
The Guardian of Tennessee
Brittany Smith, Middle Tennessee Electric Membership Corporation
Beneath the sun and tulip poplar,
A purple cotton dress she wears.
There’s Maypop nestled in her pitch black hair,
Her eyes the color of blue agate.
She sings to the honeybee,
Of things and things not yet.
The ladybug flits about in glee,
And the raccoon eyes them mischievously.
The bass and catfish play,
As the box turtle attempts hast.
She beckons the zebra swallowtail,
Watches it dance from place to place.
She calls the salamander from his limestone cave.
Darkness falls, and fireflies emerge.
The blue eyed mockingbird watches over all.
Third Place
Summer Rain
Mary Hodges, Appalachian Electric Cooperative
Pouring, drizzling, a mist
Rain takes all forms
Giving life to green leaves.
During dry times, we long to hear
The thunder and raindrops.
When times are sad,
Rain seems like heaven’s tears.
Like most blessings it is in moderation
That we benefit for too much and
The floods begin and bring damage
To lands that can’t take in the
Sheer abundance of
The shower. We fear not
For we know your Bow
Will be set in sky at rain’s end
And will remind us of your promise
That rain will always end
Before mankind is washed away.
Age 65 and older
First Place
Birds
Clay Derryberry, Duck River Electric Cooperative
I wonder what they think
Of their mechanical cousins
Made by lesser gods,
And how they might wink
At inevitable collisions
Twirling toward the sod
In fields of nodding grain
Where Adam’s kids toil and sweat
Through long hot days
Of dissolution when rain
Won’t come and the threat
Of poverty preys.
How do they fare in bone hollowed
Glide while their metal skinned kin
Must breathe a spray
Of aerosol to move and follow
While they eat a bug to spin
The air on his way?
Second Place
The Trees Wave Their Branches
John C. Mannone
“Oh Great Spirit, help me to always speak the truth quietly, to listen with an open heart and to remember the
peace that may be found in silence.”
—Cherokee prayer
The sway of the poplar tree
—its canopy thrust into
the quiet rush of wind—
its quake of leaves, I hear that
hush, too, the brush against
sky. I read their chlorophylls
and auxins, their lean into light.
Arms stretched, beckon for
the company of birds to nest,
to give them rest from predators
and storms, and listen to their cries,
their songs breaking the silence
cradling the dawn
Third Place
Full Circle
F.M. Smith, III, Cumberland EMC
There were no birds of prey
No scary creatures in the shadows
I played about the still waters
Underneath the ancient elms
The silver maples and the sky
I blew the tops off dandelions
Dreamed the dreams of children
Lay in peace on the creek bank
And grew up in my mind
It’s been a long hard journey
Please play me days gone by
Ring the bells of yesteryear
Until I can hear them clearly
Then swing that empty swing
Back and forth one more time
And the cradle to and fro
To wake the memories of your son
I’m coming home to Rogersville
For the final time
