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HisHer by Catie Chapman

HIS

Guilt was sitting by a pond

throwing stones into dark water

Conscience sat beside her

and chewed its nails.

HER

Hate came in

She gave me some scissors.

We started a fire

and cut the heads off your photos.

Jealously followed some way behind

Painting the room a livid green.

We tore your clothes

and threw them out on to the street.

Malice is the fourth sister

Stepping from the shadows in the corner of the room

Her double-edged dagger

glinting silver in the light.

Now they are gone

and Sorrow emerges from behind the door.

CATIE CHAPMAN Another young poet from the class of the redoubtable Cliff Yates, where all pupils, it seems, have metaphors with their morning milk. I think the class have been working with personification - but Catie's poems go beyond an exercise to produce a particularly witty, sharp treatment of subjects which can easily become melodramatic. The poems work well as a pair, too - they enrich and complicate each other.

Catie Chapman, aged 13 (left), receives Two's Company by Jackie Kay (Puffin). Submitted by Cliff Yates of Maharishi School, Lancashire, who receives a set of Poetry Society posters with teacher's notes. For Poetry Society events, ring 0171 240 2133.

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