Poetry prize for girl's homework

John Betjeman died in 1984

A Devon schoolgirl has won second place in a national poetry competition to mark the centenary of the birth of Sir John Betjeman.

Sarah Stewart-Watson, 11, from Moretonhampstead, wrote a poem called The Cliff, inspired by the coastline of the South West.

Her entry was chosen from more than 2,500 by poet laureate Andrew Motion.

Sarah had to write about her favourite place for homework and chose Trevose Head in Cornwall.

Dozens of events have been taking place across the region to mark the centenary of Betjeman's birth on 28 August, 1906.

Betjeman, who was poet laureate from 1972 until his death in 1984, is buried in north Cornwall.

The young Betjeman spent holidays at Trebetherick and, years later, his poems captured Cornish life in a unique way.

The Prince of Wales joined some of Britain's best known stars of stage and screen on Sunday night to remember the poet.

Hugh Grant, Joanna Lumley and Stephen Fry were among performers at the event at the Prince of Wales Theatre in London.

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The Cliff, by Sarah Stewart-Watson

Where the pink thrift
Bursts out from the bristly grass,
Where the jagged rocks cut the smooth surface of the sea,
As is stretches out to the darkened islands,
With the sun dipping behind, its orange rays exploding around them;
In the light of the setting sun a cove is uncovered,
Its treasures revealed as the oyster catchers with their orange beaks go home.
The one-footed gull takes off to escape the incoming tide,
The fulmars settle into the cliffs that fall into the sea.

A wave of salty sea air crashes over you as you sit there.
A great black-backed gull rises,
Its sharp eye looking for something to eat.
Its hard cry pierces the cold air.
Some more circle the like vultures.
They too are looking for food to feed their hungry chicks.
If you take a step back you can hear the skylarks song.
Out to sea a fishing boat is bobbing up and down in time with the waves.

Flashing out from the cliff comes a falcon.
Speeding up through the air currents
Its pointed wing tips seeming hardly to move.
When it sees what it is looking for - a pigeon
It folds up its wings and dives.
Before it hits it starts to spin
Catching its prey in the air with its talons
Then trying not to let go
Then within a second it's gone into the rock.

People walking by, not knowing, not caring,
Maybe thinking it's a kestrel.
The falcon is so secretive you'd be lucky to see it once in a lifetime
Let alone once a day
But when you finally catch a glimpse it's worth it.
You see the rock that looks like a face.
Well it's just to the right and up a bit.
It's there! It's there!