FHSF Sonnet Contest
From 2016-2018, a Sonnet Contest was held annually and the winning Sonnet would be read from stage during intermission.
2018 Winners
The Folly of Dreamers by Jessica Ostertag
The night runs swift for those who dream too much--
Who in their fancy place all hope’s desire--
And when the day dispels their spectral crutch,
They find themselves in disillusions dire.
A dreamer dazed by blinding gaze of love
Seen but in these utopias within
Meets not those eyes in humbler guise above,
In lands of breath and light and death and sin.
For what comparison can reason dare
Between the love of dreams and that of day,
With one ideal and sweet and ever fair,
The other, raw, mundane, inclined to sway?
Thus those who choose to live in love’s illusion
Love but themselves, and die in Love’s exclusion.
Second Place: Pull, gentle current by Karin Murray-Bergquist
Third Place: A Meditation on Nature by Jessica Ostertag
The night runs swift for those who dream too much--
Who in their fancy place all hope’s desire--
And when the day dispels their spectral crutch,
They find themselves in disillusions dire.
A dreamer dazed by blinding gaze of love
Seen but in these utopias within
Meets not those eyes in humbler guise above,
In lands of breath and light and death and sin.
For what comparison can reason dare
Between the love of dreams and that of day,
With one ideal and sweet and ever fair,
The other, raw, mundane, inclined to sway?
Thus those who choose to live in love’s illusion
Love but themselves, and die in Love’s exclusion.
Second Place: Pull, gentle current by Karin Murray-Bergquist
Third Place: A Meditation on Nature by Jessica Ostertag
2017 Winners
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It will Come by Teresa Jones
When golden autumn into winter fades, And wretched heart with sorrow ne’er to end Turns memory into sallow, ghostly shades For Love grown cold upon the loss of friend; When Time plods on with bitter, steady tread, While grief, fallow, lies stale and passions sleep; When doubts increase by haunting anguish fed, And hope retires to dismal caverns deep; With life behind, a wretchedness untold, And life before yet dead with icy chill, No love to warm the heart that’s turning cold, No toast to drink; with friend, no glass to fill-- When feeling seems to sleep for everything-- Then pray for Peace, and, hopeful, long for Spring. |
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Second Place: Upon a Photograph of Saint Gemma Galgani by Andrew Tucker
Third Place: Behest of Duty by Teresa Jones
Third Place: Behest of Duty by Teresa Jones
2016 Winners
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Did Mercy Exist? by Andrew Tucker
Did mercy exist while heavenly lights were placed? And did compassion dwell amidst the stars Before man slashed his face sin-deep with scars? Or was this precious balm with which we're graced Created not till goodness fell, effaced By thorn, by nail, by spear that sharply mars? This soothing salve that heals the wounds of wars, To which time may its origin be traced? It could not be that mercy, precious gem, Was merely stumbled on by accident. Nay, it lay buried, deep in eternity, And proof of this in your sweet face does lie; In making your eyes He showed His full intent: Before man fell, His pity wrought in them. |
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Second Place: Before Hiking to the Snow-filled Wood by Mel Goldberg.
Third Place: 155. by Shaun Russell.
Third Place: 155. by Shaun Russell.