COMPETITION

New directions

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1417 you were in- vited to write a poem beginning with the first line or two lines of a well-known poem but thereafter proceeding in a quite unex- pected direction.

Over a hundred entries showed that I'd struck a popular note, and I was delighted to see still more fresh names. Opening lines tended to be particularly successful; for instance the following three lots from Frances Rhodes, Ralph Sadler and Gerard Benson respectively: Yes. I remember Adlestrop The Earl of same:

His interests were the breeding and Dispatch of game . . .

Do not go gentle into that good night: Rage, rage against the dying of the light; To close the bar at ten they have no right . . .

The hunchback in the park, A solitary mister, Is Ebenezer Clarke, Who used to date my sister . . .

Equally amusing and unexpected lines were offered by Ian Baird, Alcuin Davies, Marjorie Moore, 0. Smith, T. Griffiths, Peter Hadley and Mary Ann Moore. The winners (f8 apiece), appear below, and the bonus bottle of KWV Roodeberg 1981 goes to Ginger Jelinek.

Break, break, break - She never stopped smashing our plates. We silently prayed our incompetent maid Would dispose of that set of Aunt Kate's.

She dropped nearly all of the Spode, No service we had was intact, Dad frowned, Mama pleaded—but neither succeeded; We knew that she'd have to be sacked.

Clatter, tinkle, crash, The porcelain fell like loose slates,

But by chance or endeavour she never, but never Dropped one ugly piece of Aunt Kate's.

(Ginger Jelinek) Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning We are to go on the wards, For the first time.

What a breakthrough for the National Health Service And the Youth Opportunities Programme. We, who were unemployed, Now have work to do.

How pleased are the doctors and nurses. This Thursday They will have the day off for loving.

As for the patients, No doubt they'll survive. (John Stanley) I went out to the hazel wood Because a fire was in my head; It didn't do me any good, So I went to my mate's instead. I just been to the hazel wood Because of you-know-what,' I said.

`Not fire again, inside your nut!'

My mate exclaimed. 'I tell you what: Hazel woods are useless, but I knew a bloke had what you got Not just upstairs but in his gut.

A beech wood cured the bloody lot!'

(Michael Cullup) She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's Reaganesque and right Blend in the blueness of her eyes: Thus hooked on military might, She deals with those who terrorise.

And in that gaze, and o'er that brow, Which signify her firm intent, The voice that taught Sir Geoffrey how To crawl to Ron with both knees bent, She guarantees in earnest now The slaughter of the innocent.

(Roger Woddis) He clasps the crag with crooked hands, Close to the sun in lonely lands, Wishing he'd stayed on seaside sands.

He chose a Spring Bank Holiday On rocky mountainsides to stray, And very quickly lost his way.

The Alpine Rescue team below Says, 'Why on earth they have to go So ill equipped, we'll never know.' (Alice Renton) O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?

Rg?

Don't phone again, the cops are coming, Searching for you high and low. Leave the country, don't come near me, I'll not share the blame, d'you hear me?

You're the bungler, dear, so go.

Where's the gun? I hope it's hidden, Buried deep as you were bidden In that orchard, underground. Yes, I love you, dear, for ever, But you haven't been too clever And you'll blame me, I'll be bound.

They told me, Heraclitus, they t(oPldhYmileidyaouGwartothe) dead. I never knew your proper name was Heraclitus, Fred.

You made out you were working-class, you talked with adenoids;

And so it was a shock to learn you were a 'naive at Lloyd's.

And now I'm full of doubts about the others at the squat. Are they a load of Yuppies, or Thatcherites, or what? Is Special Branch amongst us, camouflaged with crabs and fleas?

(Brian Ford)