[John Whitworth]

Jerome Betts just missed out with his fairytale, but Chris O'Carroll didn't. Congratulations to them both!

Competition No 127

There has recently been some discussion of the value of dustjackets on books. So a poem please called 'You Can't Tell a Book by its Cover. Maximum 16 lines Entries to 'Competition no 127 by e-mail comps@theoldie.co.uk by 30th July

Humph! Does she mean the title literally? Or perhaps not. I leave it to you.

[John Whitworth]

No I don't. Here's a suggestion.

You Can’t Tell a Book by its Cover

Begin with gods and talking beasts
To startle and amaze –
An eco-friendly multiverse
Created in six days.

Proceed to chronicles of crime,
High passion, pride and rage,
With murder, rape and sodomy
On every other page.

And last, the satire of a chap
Who’s very good indeed
And comes to a disastrous end.
It’s a compelling read.

And yet the cover’s boring and
The title’s pretty weak:
No author, no synopsis, just
THE BOOK in sort of Greek.

[John Whitworth]

And, Good Lord, here's another. I shall win ALL the prizes and the cake set at last!

You Can’t Tell a Book from its Cover

You can’t tell a tart from a virgin.
You can’t tell a shark from a sturgeon.
You can’t tell a kirk from a kludgie.
You can’t tell a swan from a budgie.
You can’t tell a duck from a plover.
You can’t tell a book from its cover.

You can’t tell a nun from a stripper.
You can’t tell an egg from a kipper.
You can’t tell a tramp from a totty.
You can’t tell a bust from a botty.
You can’t tell a louse from a lover.
You can’t tell a book from its cover.

You can’t tell a truck from a taxi.
You’re off for a life on your jacksy.
You can’t tell a bint from her bruvver.
You can’t tell a book from its cover.

[John Whitworth]

It's You Can't Tell a Book BY its Cover, dammit. Back to the drawing board.... now this!

You Can’t Tell a Book by its Cover

You can’t tell a church from its vicars,
You can’t tell a tart by her knickers,
You can’t tell a swan from a budgie,
You can’t tell a kirk by its kludgie,
You can’t tell a chick from a plover,
You can’t tell a book by its cover.

You can’t tell a nun from a stripper,
You can’t tell a port by its shipper,
You can’t tell a tramp from a totty,
You can’t tell a brat by its botty,
You can’t tell a louse from a lover,
You can’t tell a book by its cover.

You can’t tell a hearse from a taxi,
You’re off for a life on your jacksy,
You can’t tell a bint from her bruvver,
You can’t tell a book by its cover.

[Holly Martins]

FIRST LOVE

Quite bright - I swap the cover of the book
and 'Lady C' has now a different look.

But anyone can read a scarlet face
and guess what filth has made my heartbeat race.

[basil ransome-davies]

It just pours out of you, the accomplished verse. I wish I could match your production rate. I have to sweat & strain for the raggedest turd of a couplet. You should publish a how-to book on being Prolific.