[John Whitworth]

The Tattooist's Tales were, I thought, very good. Chris O'Carroll, as so often, bore the banner for the Sphere, showing yet again that you don't have to be Brit to win.

The new competition looks a goodie. At least two ways to go.

Competition Number 131
We've planted the bulbs for next Spring. Meanwhile te EU or someone is banning incandescent bulbs in fa\vour of those low-energy things. A poem called 'Bulbs' please. Maximum 16 lines

email comp@theoldie.co.uk by 19 November

Don't forget to include your postal address.

Some of you wanted to know what the tea and cake set comprises, though Bazza already told you. However, I will tell you again

80 tea-bags Taylor's Yorkshire Tea
Two china mugs (rather nice)
Two cakes one ginger and one not ginger.
One large Yorkshire Tea Towel (it would be)

The cake is nice. Haven't tried the tea yet. Yorkshire is the Texas of the UK. Yorkshiremen shoot first and ask questions afterwards. Yorkshire women have biceps of steel. And they drink lots of tea.

I have found a poem I entered unsuccessfully for a Speccie Comp. At least I think it was a Speccie comp. Please tell me if it was an Oldie.

Bulbs

Friend, do not count my counsel vain:
Switch off the current at the main
Lest excess voltage should thee slay;
Timor mortis conturbat me.

And if thou would’st employ a chair,
Take care the chair legs stand foursquare,
Neither to topple nor to sway;
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Unscrew thy bulb with twist too free;
Bulb breaks and bursts an artery.
Thy life’s blood then will gush and spray;
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Follow the wisest course. Perhaps
‘Tis meet to hire a pair of chaps
Who come a week on Saturday;
Timor mortis conturbat me.