Competition

For Comp. 3473 (and Halloween) you were invited to submit ambiguous ghost stories in which the ‘presence’ may or may not be explained by a more mundane phenomenon. There were lots of entries of a high standard – though a few strayed a little from the brief – and it was hard to whittle down the winners. A mention for Tom Adam and Shirley Curran and their genuinely spooky offerings, as well as for J.C.H. Mounsey’s literal shaggy dog story. Among the other runners-up were Frank Upton, Sophia Jackson, Elizabeth Oakley, Alan Millard and Neil Richardson. The winners of the vouchers are below. At the ruins, we stopped for sandwiches. Suddenly this clergyman appeared. I say clergyman because he had a dog collar as well as hiking shorts.

In Competition 3472 you were invited to submit a sonnet inspired by a well-known contemporary figure’s characteristic feature. These, in a top-notch entry, ranged far and wide, from David Attenborough’s whisper and Richard E. Grant’s forehead to Paul Hollywood’s handshake. Richard Warren, Seongsang Park, Bob Newman and Mike Scriven were among a long list of unlucky losers. The £25 John Lewis vouchers belong to the authors of   those sonnets printed below. Oh Andy, how your eyebrows can convey your mood, define the state of your emotion, a single glimpse will indicate the way those manly brows have captured my devotion. Electoral Reform?

For Competition 3471 you were invited to submit a poem about the Bayeux Tapestry’s visit to the British Museum. There were a lot of entries, many very good, and mentions should go to Jenny Pearson, Nick Syrett, Shirley Curran, Adrian Fry, Janine Beacham, Nicholas Lee and Basil Ransome-Davies, among others. The prizes go to those below. The Duke spiked the last Saxon with his spear Then said: ‘That’s it! Now I’ve got an idea. This was a battle folk will long recall, What with old Harold copping it and all. Mind you, the national press will be no use – That Anglo-Saxon Chronicle’s Fake News. We’ve got to keep 1066 in mind – I’m thinking tea-towels and stuff of that kind.

For Competition 3470, you were invited to submit a very pretty lyric poem about something ugly or unpleasant. Purely as poems, the entries were of an extremely high standard. Not all, however, observed both the rule about being very pretty and the one about the subjects being unpleasant. (Trigger warning: the second of these certainly wasn’t a problem with Martin Brown’s contribution below.) There were near misses for Nick Syrett, Elizabeth Kay, Phillip Sheahan and Revd Dr Peter Mullen, but the £25 vouchers go to: To a Cockroach O hail to thee, blithe beauty, dainty sprite; Light-wingèd dryad of behind the bin! Shy, gentle nymph, embowered from the light, With armour iridescent, radiant sheen.

Competition 3469 invited you to submit seriously misguided love poems. This proved a popular challenge but the standard was patchy. The £25 vouchers go to those below. Your personal sparkle more Merkel than Markle, more Dobbin than Arkle, more glum Pagliacci than fun mariachi, more prickly than roses, more commandments than Moses, more Plain Jane Sans Merci than bedtime with Circe. And as fun as a rum-free lukewarm hot rum toddy or a night in a whore-house with Big Ears and Noddy. But divorce would be costly and hard to arrange And we’ve done 30 years and I’m wary of change And inertia’s a glue that is hard to undo; So stay stuck to me and I’ll stick fast to you. Martin Parker How do I love you?

Comp. 3468 took as its jumping-off point Trump’s renaming of Lake Ontario and invited you to submit a poem proposing alternative names for other places, people or things. There were lots of entries and a few of the proposals (not all) made quite good sense. David Harris, Helene Parry, Martin Brown, Rachel Hardisty Vincent, Nicholas Hodgson, Nick Syrett and Elizabeth Kay were just some of the runners-up. The £25 vouchers go to those below. Historical toponymy Is a very serious game – It means that several countries Require a change of name. The Franks, a German nation, left Their name behind by chance In Gaul, but by rights Germany Should now be renamed ‘France’.

Comp. 3467 invited you to submit a passage in the style of a classic school story to mark the start of the new term – as in autumn but also Burnham’s. Anyway there were some fun results. David Harris found Billy Bunter un-recognisable after a summer on the jabs, while northern studies and vibe coding were on the timetable for Richard Warren’s girl pupils. There were many other good entries besides but the vouchers go to those below. The Remove awaited Mr Quelch, expecting another term of Caesar’s Commentaries. But it was not Mr Quelch who entered the classroom. It was William George Bunter, beaming broadly, leading in a willowy, benevolent-looking lady. ‘I say you fellows, Quelchy isn’t coming this term. Instead we’ve got Professor Cremin.

For Competition 3466 you were invited to submit a short story with a topical theme written in the style of hardboiled crime fiction. A smallish entry bore all the hallmarks of the genre: dames, sharp repartee, staccato delivery, black humour and grandstanding similes laid on with a trowel. Topics included the Clacton by-election, Andy Burnham’s pledge on rough sleepers and Harry and Meghan’s return to these shores. I enjoyed the Revd Dr Peter Mullen’s entry: ‘The air was thick, putrid, the kind you could strike a match on. William’s eyes had that glaze: a glaze that hid the hurt but not the history. Outside, the palace stones sweated in the fog. Inside, the silence could get a man killed.

Comp. 3465 invited you to write a centre-aligned poem, with a hidden message running down the middle. The brief was tough, and some concessions had to be made. Deserving of a mention: Tracy Davidson, Chris Oswald, Nick Syrett, Nicholas Lee, Brian Murdoch, and David Silverman for his eggtimer poem. Extra props for connecting theme with encoded message. The prizes go to those below. At first I strive to get the meter right, my verse, it seems to me will never scan or else the rhythm’s out, the words take flight, oh, pray relieve me of this futile plan. And yet I’m staying here, you ask me why? to prove for certain I can write a verse, creative juices seem in short supply, I’d write a sonnet to my toes, or worse, what can the topic be?

For this Odyssey-inspired Competition 3464 you were invited to submit a passage or poem in which a modern man (or woman!) is trying to get home after a decade away and excuses are needed. Among those deserving of mentions are Basil Ransome-Davies, Bob Newman, Sophia Jackson, Paul Freeman and Nick Syrett, while the prizes go to those below. Tell me about a complicated man,Muse, how Poseidon’s wrath cast him uponA bleak, strange Northern isle. There wanderingsTook him to Crawley, where he chanced uponA building great crowds entered eagerly.

For Competition 3463 you were invited to submit an acrostic poem in the style of a well-known poet, the first letters of each line spelling out the poet’s name. Initials were allowed but I disqualified diminutives such as Will and Bill for Wordsworth and McGonagall. In a medium-sized, accomplished entry, Elizabeth Kay, Richard Warren, Bob Newman, J.R. Johnson and Mike Gower stood out. The £25 John Lewis vouchers go to those entries printed below, led by Basil Ransome-Davies’s twist on Empson’s ‘Just a Smack at Auden’. Shall we cop a plea, guys, eager for a part, Idle but not free, guys, waiting for a start,   Riding for a spree, guys, on a rubbish cart? We can’t wait and see, guys,waiting for a start. I go with the mob, guys, perish books and art.

Competition 3462 invited you to submit a short story in which the protagonist lets an algorithm take charge of their life or an aspect of it. It was a smallish entry but a solid effort and mentions should go to Brians Murdoch and Allgar, David Harris, Nicholas Lee and Nick Syrett; there were other good ones besides. The £25 John Lewis vouchers go to those below. Ever the termagant, Liza attempted to make Greville, her boyfriend, jealous of the algorithm, whose recommendations, she said, proved its superior insight into her character. Knowing Liza liked, or at least bought, the sourly comedic novels of Rachel Cusk, the algorithm had suggested the brittle tragicomedies of Ivy Compton-Burnett.

For Competition 3461 you were asked to submit toe-curling analogies.This invitation produced a stream of entries that were glorious in their banal, laboured, overwrought and tasteless awfulness. Bad writing, it turns out, has some high-brow admirers: the notoriously dreadful poet and novelist Amanda McKittrick Ross’s fans included Aldous Huxley, C.S Lewis and Siegfried Sassoon, while Mark Twain pronounced her novel Irene Iddesleigh ‘one of the greatest unintentionally humorous novels of all time’.  The offerings below earn their authors a £5 John Lewis voucher per analogy printed. The noise he made, if expressed in writing, could be taken for the surname of a mildly dyslexic Polish plumber.

For Competition 3460 you were invited to write a sonnet beginning ‘Shall I compare thee to a [trisyllable of your choice]’. This challenge, which called for a twist on Sonnet 18, produced objects of comparison that ranged far and wide from bacon rolls to a simile. It was a popular competition, eliciting stellar performances all round; I was sorry not to have space for Helene Parry, David Silverman and Paul Freeman. The seven best are printed below and earn their authors a £25 John Lewis voucher apiece. Shall I compare thee to a tennis ball? I’m moved betimes to give thee quite a whack and yet it seems thou dost not care at all, like summer’s lease thou keep’st on bouncing back.

Competition 3459 invited you to submit a passage that lavishly depicted a heatwave. The entries accumulated languorously, replete with detail – occasionally so excessive that one almost suspected the involvement of AI. Anyway it was enjoyable to wallow in these writings. Frank Upton, Sue Pickard, David Harris, J.C.H. Mounsey, John O’Byrne, Basil Ransome-Davies, D.A. Prince (and others besides) deserve honourable mentions, but the £25 vouchers go to those below. A summer Lord of Misrule, Heatwave hath come into his estate, evicting cloud, curtailing rainfall, consigning long trouser, counterpane and necktie to laughable if temporary obsolescence. Feel his warmth unbuttoning your apparel, loosening your morals.

Comp. 3458 invited you to submit a fictional character’s stepping-down letter. A new light was cast on various figures, from Joseph Houlihan’s Big Brother wanting more time with his family to Sylvia Fairley’s Miss Jean Brodie considering a non-ministerial position in the Scottish parliament: ‘I’m prepared to accept a modest salary and I shall let it be known that I own an adequate coffee machine, a good fountain pen that I’ve used for years and a reliable watch…’. Jeeves and Bond each made three appearances (nods to Nicholas Lee, John Moore, Ralph Goldswain and W.J. Webster). There were many very good entries, but the £25 vouchers go to those below.

For Competition 3457 you were invited to submit a weather forecast in verse. There were nods to Shakespeare, Eliot, Hardy and MacNeice in a large, varied and accomplished entry. An honourable mention goes to John O’Byrne’s haiku: Mother Nature cries Stopping play at Wimbledon: Not any one’s fault. The entries printed below net their authors a £25 John Lewis voucher. It’s no go the beach today, it’s no go the picnic: There’s heavy rain from Kent to Wales and thunder storms in Whitwick. You’ll need cagoules in Chichester and wellingtons in Dover And Driza-Bones in Liverpool till this tornado’s over. It’s no go the summer fete, it’s no go the barbie, All you’ll get is the tea-tent drowned and a flood alert for Derby.

Comp. 3456 invited you to mark 250 years since the birth of the United States with a poem. There were lots of entries – including from across the pond – and the standard was extremely high. A certain ambivalence towards Trump’s America seeped in, naturally enough. It pains me not to have room for Nick Syrett, Brian Murdoch, Basil Ransome-Davies, Adrian Fry, Janine Beacham, Sylvia Fairley, David Silverman, Angela Padwick, David Harris, Alan Millard, plus others. And for Max Guttman, whose entry begins: In ’76 we fought with mother England. Now, we fight each other. Americans are red or blue, and you hate me, and I hate you. The £25 vouchers go to those below. England’s oddballs sailed the seas To live in bolshy colonies.

Comp. 3455 invited you to supply some local response (in prose or poetry) to the absence of Glastonbury Festival, which is normally this weekend but is having a fallow year. You explored the perspectives of yokels, cows, King Arthur, the faerie folk and Wiccans, as well as a man who’d rather listen to Mozart in his garden. No room to mention all the runners-up but shout-outs to Joseph Houlihan, Brian Murdoch, Sue Pickard, Andy Simpson, Alan Millard, Paul Freeman, and lastly Basil Ransome-Davies: I shan’t be at my usual perch, Filled with financial hope, To sell my overpriced crap merch And, entre nous, some dope. The £25 vouchers go to those below.

For Competition 3454 you were invited to encapsulate a well-known poem in four lines. I found this entertaining parlour game in E.O. Parrott’s splendid How to be Well Versed in Poetry, which includes this cracker from Ron Rubin, one-time veteran of these pages: Regarding Slough, Berks., This poet remarks: ‘This town makes me vomit – I wish they would bomb it!’ Paul Freeman earns an honourable mention for distilling ‘Daffodils’ into four words. Richard Warren, Mark Wallace, Nicholas Whitehead, Simon Godziek and Liz Moore also stood out. The winners earn a £10 John Lewis voucher per encapsulation printed. Don’t be coy, babe, Life must fade; Marvell’s tip For getting laid.