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Speccie Competition Marriage Lines
Competition: Marriage guidance
LUCY VICKERYSATURDAY, 3RD SEPTEMBER 2011 Lucy Vckery presents this week's Competition In Competition No. 2711 you were invited to cook up a recipe for marital bliss on behalf of a poet of your choice. It was agony to whittle an especially fine entry down to the half-dozen printed below. Inevitably, some good ’uns missed out. Space permits only a hearty congratulatory slap on the back all-round. The winners earn £25 apiece and the bonus fiver belongs to Basil-Ransome-Davies. There’s a cloud o’ trouble loomin’ when a squaddie takes a wife And the man ’oo’s lived in barracks ’as to face domestic life With a creature ’alf ’is dearest pal and ’alf a sort of sphinx And prettier than a Christmas rose and wiser than’e thinks. ’E may ’ear a curtain-lecture if he doesn’t mind ’is ways And ’e’ll quickly find that insubordination never pays, For a woman is an angel when an ’usband treats ’er right But the one ’oo slights a spouse will find ’e’s picked ’is biggest fight. ’E may just as well surrender, though ’e’s earned a battle scar Fighting off the ’eathen devil on the plains of Kandahar, And when ’e does ’e’ll learn the truth that beaten armies know: It’s no shame to throw your ’ands up to a brave and skilful foe. When you’re single, and a soldier, and you march on weary feet, And the regiment’s your master from Reveille to Retreat, You may drink and curse and sow wild oats from’ere to Kingdom Come, But don’t stride into marriage with your rifle, flag and drum. Basil Ransome-Davies/Kipling Whereas two persons do plight their troth Their felicity depends not on one but on both. This is the secret of domestic harmony For all who are blessed in holy matrimony. Let the husband acknowledge his wife’s domain Knowing that interference there will cause a smart pain. Rather let him ensure that the funds she is allowed Are sufficient for her to do hearth and home proud. The wife in her turn should strive, come what may, To greet him with good cheer at the end of his day; Nor ever forget that from Rio to Delhi The surest path to a man’s heart is laid through his belly. With plenty such elastic give and take The marital bond will only stretch never break. If you follow these words you will be well advised, For I speak as one long and happily spliced. W.J. Webster/William McGonagall Some marriages combust and end in fire, Some others ossify and end in ice, But either way, the path is full of briar, So heed this old New Englander’s advice. To skirt the road whose ending-place is dire, Just let your spouse control the thermostat. You ought keep promises, don’t be a liar, But more important, more than all of that, Relinquish and avoid the one device Which causes frigid rifts and flaming ire Involving each mate’s comfort and its price. Swear that for love you’ll shiver or perspire, Grin like an oven-bird; that should suffice. Don’t be disconsolate, all won’t be lost. Employ, on snowy evenings, what proved nice And worked for me — a little touch of Frost. Frank Osen/Robert Frost The Best Way, Algy says, to savour Marriage in its fullest Flavour, Is to Provoke an Argument Or be a shocking Malcontent, And to preserve a Happy House To borrow someone else’s Spouse (With whom, in Ways that can’t be missed, One should conduct a lengthy Tryst). Such deeds of Darkness or Debauch Make Old-Weds light a Brand New Torch. They do not give Divorce a Thought, Eschewing Barristers or Court. The Case of Lady Fortescue Is Evidence that this is true: Learning her Husband kept the Faith, She pined and died, a pallid Wraith. Bill Greenwell Hearken, braves, and I shall tell you How to keep your squaw in order, So she keeps the teepee tidy, So you get your bison roasted And the rest, the Rumpy-Pumpy, But my time is short amongst you, Just one nugget can I give you: Always lie if she should ask you If her bum looks big in buckskin. Now farewell, for I must leave you, I must go with Minnehaha To the trading-post, the Tesco, Wait an hour while she decides if Own-brand pemmican is cheaper, Pay the tally-squaw, the Checkout, Shlepp the goods back to the wigwam. Brian Murdoch/Longfellow The Holy Ghost, the Father and the Son — Eternal Godhead, wedded three in one — Prefigured human marriage vowed for life: Each spouse the other’s turnkey, man and wife. To keep their bondage willing, they should stay Apart — at least till sunset, every day. Thus rationed, love perpetuates its hope! Pray heed this verse from Alexander Pope. Barbara Smoker |
I have just read Basil's winner over the phone to a military man of my aquaintance, putting a bit of feeling into it - and found myself in tears by the end. Yer man was silent for a moment, then said merely "F***in' brilliant". Thanks Baz. Not least for giving Kipling a hand up out of the sh*t he seems to be in around here. Craftsmanship and honesty. Both of you.
Frank's Frost, twinkling at the other end of the spectrum, captured the homely wisdom of the man. Neither of these are parodies; they're too good for that. And Bill - you cheeky old cynic! |
Well done all, but Basil especially. I tried Kipling too, but he out-Kiplinged me by several lengths.
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