Lizzie Siddal in the Bath<\/strong><\/p>\n My fourth drowning this week. My thoughts purl from scene when they handed out parts A sitting of ghosts and family – But wine helped me forget Mr Millais \u2013 call me Johnnie – I smelt their cooling wicks An hour, maybe two, passes. But my dear, you\u2019re freezing! Dripping before his canvas, <\/p>\n Emma Harding<\/a> was the winner in the main category<\/a> of the NCLA’s Water Poetry Competition 2012<\/a>.<\/p>\n The NCLA Water Poetry Competition was judged by W.N. Herbert <\/a>and John Burnside<\/a>. The ceremony was held at Northern Stage<\/a> on 23rd February 2012<\/a>.<\/p>\n Photographs of the event can be viewed here<\/a>.<\/p>\n
\nFor the first hour I float,
\nremoved to a muffled world,
\nwhite tin beneath my fingers.<\/p>\n
\nto scene, settle at Charlotte St
\nand a long winter evening
\nreading Shakespeare, how<\/p>\n
\nand gave me Ophelia
\nI thought What a pretty name,
\nnot knowing more than that.<\/p>\n
\nChristina a grave-eyed queen,
\nWilliam both spirit and king,
\nDante sweating as the Prince.<\/p>\n
\nmy lack of learning; I heard
\nher music on my tongue \u2013
\nthe mad can say the most.<\/p>\n
\nis always thoughtful, placed
\noil lamps beneath the bath
\n(snuffed by a sudden gust).<\/p>\n
\nbut Mr Millais painted on
\nand I could not raise myself,
\nsomehow, to ripple the silence.<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019ve had too much of water,
\nbut the white of the ceiling
\npilots me towards sleep.<\/p>\n
\nA hand pulls me up and out,
\npond-heavy, water sluicing
\nfrom my antique lace.<\/p>\n
\nI sneeze to see the girl
\nwho\u2019s me and not me,
\ndelivered, dead in the water.<\/p>\n