I sent my four in individual emails till my Italian email - "alice", would anyone but Coward believe that - was "at it again" and so screwed up that I re-sent them all in a single mail. I shall, of course, blame Italtelecom if I don't win, and win big - sorry grande!

Thanks, Ann. You're probably right, though I already sent it in and I'm not sure it's worth trying to correct it . . . but maybe.

Don't take my advice as being any kind of "rule", Martin, but if I were the judge and received an email with 13 sonnets in it I'd be wondering, as I read each one, "Is there another one? ... "Is there another one?", "How many more?" and so on. After reading them all it might be a case of "Dammit, which was that really good one - no 8 or no 9?" and scrolling back through them.

As I said, an email with one poem in it is easy to isolate, print out, put into a shortlist pile, etc. but then it's easy enough to cut and paste a good one along the way, from a long list, and put it into a separate file. All in all I don't think it really matters how you submit them; I'm only saying how I'd prefer it, as I'd be inclined to print out the really appealing ones and take sheaves of paper to bed with me and read them there :)

Jayne

Thanks, Jayne. What you said makes sense.

Charlotte - Sorry, you were right after all! It is, indeed, 14. In my count, I neglected to include the second one in Post #105, which I now think contains enough variation for me to regard it as a separate poem.

Fancy candies? I prefer the plains.
Just give me simple chocolate any day
And take those gaudy fruity bits away.
Who needs butterscotch? I hear it stains.
And truffles cause me weird digestive pains.
From June's beginning to the end of May
(All year, that's right) I call it child's play
To sit inside at home (outside it rains)
And gobble simple chocolate-coated leaves
And chocolate goodies shaped like sugared suns,
To unwrap chocolate bits from chocolate sheaves
Until there's chocolate scent on every breath
And I'm a mere machine that purrs and runs
On chocolate till I'm chocolated to death.

Roger - Your chocolate poem is a glorious dramatic crescendo from beginning to end.

I agree. Roger, your poem is hysterical!

Glad my math is accurate, Martin.

Roger, you've written eight!

Charlotte

Good heavens, Martin! 14? Haven't you got anything better to do with your time? No? Come to think of it, neither have I.

And the quickie ....has left the building...

Brian - What else is life for but to fiddle and toil, connecting all those rhyme-dots? Is not poetry a game of words? Such fun!