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John Dyer Exhibition I Official Limited Edition Print I Art & Storytelling Competition
 

‘Moonlit Dreams’ by Polly Palmer, Aged 12

The water wanders over my feet as I look out to sea. A wave crashes against the cliff face leaving surf sprayed across my cottage garden on top of the hill. Me and the ocean. The moon gleaming down on us like a spotlight. But I have to leave my friend to climb up the steep and slippery cliff to my millionaire mansion.

“Where on earth have you been?”

“I’m fine Dad. I’ve just been down the beach.”

“I don’t care whether you’re fine or not! Me and your mother are going out tonight. This place better be spotless by the time we get back!”

As the door slams behind me, I look down to the floor. I’ve left a trail of sandy foot prints. A single tear rolls down my face. I wipe it away and run out the door. Down the cliff. Across the wet sand. My little rowing boat rocks in shallow waters. I wade into the waves and roll into my boat. The tears start to flow.

I’ve been rowing for at least half an hour now and my arms are numb and stiff. I feel like I could just lie down and die, give into the world. I look up at the stars. The stars are then covered by waves…

I wake up breathless. Coughing up salt tasting saliva. People come running in and crowded round me.

“Give her some room, give her some room!”

“Where am I?”

“Hello, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m Pip. Captain of this ship you’re on.”

“I am on a boat?”

“Yes. Why don’t you start with telling me your name.”

“My name is Clara. How did I get on this ship? The last thing I remember is me and my little boat being swallowed by the waves.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve had a hit to the head. Get some rest and you’ll be fine.”

I jump out of bed and run on to the deck. The sea breeze chills me to the bone. It feels real. The cold air is real. But here…am I real? Looking up, I notice the tall, strong masts with their sails flying high. I wish I had a ship like this. I’m now back in bed. They have left me pencils and paper. As I sit on the bed, I draw…

Finished. Done. Probably the best drawing I’ve ever done. My own little cove with my little rowing boat and my horrible, big mansion. Oh how I would hate to go back there. But in the middle, under the spotlight of the moon, Pip’s grand, spectacular ship. Pip, I wonder where she is?

“Pip? Where are you?” She comes running in.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I just don’t know where I am. I’m lost.”

“Don’t worry. You can go back home if you want.”

“NO! I’ll never go back there!”

“But if you go home it will be fine.”

“Honest?”

“Honest. Your mum and dad will be very kind and life will be perfect.”

“Then how do I get back?”…

I thrust my drawing into my pocket and head out on to deck with Pip.

“Now, go to the edge. And jump.”

“Jump? No way!”

“Do you want to go home or not?”

I look to the floor and nod my head. I’m scared. Getting up on to the side, I catch Pip’s eye.

“Jump.” She whispers. I smile at her and J
U
M
P

Ahhh. I wake up on the sand, soaked to the bone. That was an incredible dream. But then I feel something in my pocket. I pull it out. It’s the picture I drew…

 

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The John Dyer Gallery is strictly by appointment only. Telephone: 0777 339 7503.

Artist Information: John Dyer I Joanne Short

 

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