[Jayne Osborn]

Oh, goody, here's one that we like!
(I'm still trying for a hat trick with the bouts-rimés.)

Jayne

xxxxxxxxxxxxxThe Oldie Competition
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxby Tessa Castro

COMPETITION NO 153

Here are the annual bouts-rimés. Write a poem of 14 lines, please, with these words as the rhymes in the order given: did, in, feet, neat, pin, jar, are, long, wrong, spin, few, live, blue, sieve.

Entries to ‘Competition 153’ by post (The Oldie, 65 Newman Street, London W1T 3EG), email comps@theoldie.co.uk or fax (020 7436 8804) by 27 July. Don’t forget your home address.

[Chris O'Carroll]

Is that list of rhyme words correct, Jayne? Should the first one be "din"?

[Jayne Osborn]

It's exactly from the magazine, Chris, so I Googled the words to see where they come from.

They're the end words of the 3rd stanza of 'The Jumblies' by Edward Lear.

Jayne

[Chris O'Carroll]

Thanks, Jayne. I suppose "blue" and "sieve" should have tipped me off. Far and few, far and few are my chances in this comp if I go on at this rate.

[John Whitworth]

If it says end-rhymes they all ought to bloody rhyme, Lear or no Lear. Oh well! Still, thanks Jayne. I have an idea.

And here it is:

What He Did

He sold his soul to the Devil he did,
And he said to his Sins, 'Come in!'
And his seven Sins, on their shaggy feet,
With their goatee beards brushed clean and neat,
All danced on the point of a pin.
With a fat cigar and a whisky jar,
Each peach of a Sin sang out, 'We are
The Hounds of Hell and our fangs are long.
We bite by night and our Right is Wrong
And we keep your soul in a spin!'
His Angels, alas, who were far and few,
Just whispered, 'Sinner, unfit to live,
You're as certain to burn as the sky is blue,
Or as sand runs out through a sieve.'

[Brian Allgar]

Blimey, John, that was quick! And in the small hours of the morning, too. So you are probably the man to tell me something I've always wondered: how does one burn a candle at both ends?

[John Whitworth]

By holding it in the middle, Brian. Not to be recommended, I would have thought. All my best stuff comes to me in the wee, small hours. After lunch is a dead spot, suitable only for the taking of exercise and the watching of cricket on Sky.