Three

We selected three winners this year, from Rebecca Poinot, Hanna Akalu and Angharad Morgan.

Three

One afternoon of April, 1963, you opened your eyes, 

For the very first time 

Two parents by your sides, sisters 1-2-3, 
   opening their arms, 

Hypnotised by your smile 

Three kilos three hundred, on April the third, 
   you entered the world 

Aries, hear the chimes 

Baby boy, blessed with talent

One two three, your voice is instrument 

Follow the movement 

One heart, musically ticking, beating in rhythm, 
   like a metronome 

Steady melody 

Two eyes, blinking and clicking, observing the world, capturing the wisdom 
   Sublime photography 

Three swallows, landing one by one, in your new built house that you now call home 

Complete Family 

Little boy; poet you became 

One two three, play with words with fame 

Can you feel the flame? 

One man, once said these few words, it's only with your heart, that you can see right 

Little prince, you see 

To… eyes, what is essential, is not visible, not intelligible 

Concealed beauty 

Three petals, beautiful rose, listen to the prose that your heart compose, 

Feel the harmony 

Little prince became grand homme 

One two three, artist, you blossom 

Embrace the freedom

By Rebecca Poinot, who is a member of the British Psychological Society

'This is a poem about my dad, whose favourite number is three. This is a poem about a man who loves singing, capturing the beauty of the world with his camera and putting it into words. His favourite story was always Le Petit Prince, with its strong message: 'On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur' ('It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye'). This is the story of an artist, a poet, a photograph, a writer, a dad of three girls. A man whose dream was always to be free.'

Touched by your light

In my mind was a vision, a longing, of you.

Mesmerised, as I first cradled you.

Discovering you were special,

your hidden inner being

touched by a spectrum of light.

From gentle murmurs,

to words lost in utterance.

You found your voice through writing.

To convey, to us, what was manifest,

the many depths of you.

Some days you cling to me tightly

seeking solace in my embrace.

On others, you yearn for seclusion.

Savouring solitude,

From the sublime chaos

Of our social world.

As we stumble together on this journey,

Moments tinged with angst and joy.

Touched by your light, fear slowly ebbs away.

As I humbly watch you soar,

my arms wide open, should you ever fall.

By Hanna Akalu, who is a first-year PhD student at GCU London

'I've never written a poem before. This was inspired by my sweet daughter, Ayshah. It's about my experience of being a first-time parent to a child who is on the autism spectrum. It's about the bittersweet journey that ensues as you begin to see the world through their unique eyes, transforming your own understanding of the world in the process. It attempts to capture the many layers of my daughter, who is by no means defined by autism. I've watched her blossom at her own pace, and in a way that is at times blissful and, at others, heartbreaking. It's about being present, as her mother, in a way that neither over pressures nor limits her being. It explores an equally challenging and rewarding journey, transcended by love, filled with shifting expectations, and a subtle realisation that even though she sees the world a bit differently, it doesn't make it any less meaningful to her. Being "touched by your light", is being able to see the world, novel, through her eyes.'

Cerebellum & Sons

We offer to you, at no price at all,

This instrument of uncanny power.

You can use it in a multitude of ways –

Look, we'll show you –

For good or for bad, for pain or for pleasure,

For leisure or genius or playing out dreams;

As a weapon against others or against yourself.

Handle it carefully, it is made up of many parts.

Do not, whatever you do, take it out of the case that protects it –

Doing so will cause a fatal malfunction.

We have warned you.

The product does not come in fancy colours –

Just grey – but we wager you won't be disappointed.

There is no manual included, however,

you wouldn't understand it if there was.

Why not give it a try? If it's not to your satisfaction,

we promise you your oblivion back.

Oh and one last thing, before you go:

Sorry about the constant interior monologue.

We're working on that.

by Angharad Morgan

'I saw your competition on Twitter. I started writing poetry around seven months ago. I have a layman's interest in psychology, I'm quite drawn to the surreal and I liked the idea of these slightly shady characters selling brains even though the human mind hasn't been fully perfected yet. There's a lot of humour in the idea, but also a reminder that actually human brains are not only fragile, but can cause 
a huge amount of destruction in the wrong circumstances.

'I do find myself writing about the brain, body and anatomical references a fair bit, which is odd because I don't have a scientific background – but I do think it is important for writers to challenge how we look at ourselves. And Cerebellum & Sons does make for a great shop name.'

Read the winning entries from previous years.