Eratosphere - *FANFARE!* Oldie 'Missed Appointment'

I'm delighted to make another 'Fanfare' announcement (when 'one of us' bags a big win): Chris O'Carroll wins yet another distinguished prize! AND John Whitworth and Martin Elster get 'Honourable Menshes'.
Well done and congratulations, Chris, John and Martin.
Eratosphere rules again! :D

(See new thread for the next comp.)
Jayne

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe Oldie Competition
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxby Tessa Castro

IN COMPETITION NO 143 you were invited to write a poem called ‘Missed Appointment’. The response was large, and most of the entries were about love or death. John Whitworth redirected Death when he called to the wrong house. Michele Crawford, at her first attempt in the Oldie Competition, took Shakespeare’s missed appointments, ending with the couplet: ‘When Banquo missed his regal dinner date / His ghost
turned up to show why he was “late”.’ Peter Davies, though, came up with the idea of missing his chance as the fourth Wise Man, and Martin Elster wrote accomplished verses on being at the wrong concert hall, or in the right one without the right instrument – the stuff of anxiety dreams, to be sure. Una McMorran took the inspired form of Noah’s raven, refusing to return and keeping to dry land till Elijah might come one day. Commiserations to all these, who deserved to win, and congratulations to those printed below, each of whom wins £25, with the well-appointed Yorkshire Tea gift set going to Judith Greenwood.

Recycling bin’s due out. I’ve checked the date.
But when I reach the corner where it’s stored,
A sparkling web is stretched from bin to gate.
A quiet spider guards his fragile hoard.

Arthritic neighbour, wheezing, urges calm,
Says ‘Hit it with that brush – I’ll just stand here.’
He moves ten feet away in his alarm
And shields himself behind his bin in fear.

I say, ‘Let’s leave my bin – it’s not full yet’
And help him put his bin out on the street.
We chat, and watch the spider in his net.
His home, his life, his universe complete.

My neighbour starts to go, then turns to say,
‘We should be careful what we throw away.’
Judith Greenwood

Under the clock, he’d said. Patient, she stood
hearing an hour click by, wondering would
he take her by surprise with flowers, or if
she’d see him first, far off, feel her face flare
with scarlet pleasure, shed her too-tight, stiff
ache of anticipation and bright stare.

Wondering how long, how soon. Under the clock,
waiting alone, a prisoner in hope’s dock
she watched time creep, shrank from the hurrying crowd,
scrolling deep in her pocket some old ticket,
its journey dead behind her; heard the loud
roar of street traffic, wondering if she’d stick it
longer. But how long? Holding up her head
patient, she stood. Under the clock. He’d said.
D A Prince

Another satellite plunged from the sky,
And tons of rubble didn’t hit my head.
A drunken driver crashed as I walked by;
Had I been where that tree stands, I’d be dead.

A shadow on my X-ray looked like doom,
But lab tests show it’s really nothing fatal.
This date will not be carved upon my tomb;
Some blessedly far in the future date’ll.

While other shoppers bought that tainted meat
And got done in by virulent bacteria,
I find, so far, that every meal I eat
Wreaks no catastrophe in my interior.

There’s one appointment everybody keeps
Eventually, so I am pleased to say
That mine with that grim, bony bloke who reaps
Is one that I have missed again today.
Chris O’Carroll

I must apologise. I did not mean
to duck this vital meeting. I was all
prepared, papers in order and the call
button out of reach. I was dead keen,
if you’ll excuse the phrase, to keep our date,
marking the body’s last requests as done –
last finger-lift, last heartbeat – then someone
spotted me and screamed, ‘Resuscitate!’

So here I still am, schedule gone awry
because some box-ticking prat hit the bell.
Breathing one’s hoped-for last, it’s hard to tell
people to bugger off – but I did try,
honestly. I hope you’ll understand.
What am I saying? Yes, of course you will.
In fact, this small hiatus may fulfil
your purpose precisely as you had planned.
Alison Prince