[John Whitworth]

Not a Spherian among the winners of the Two Bridges Competition. I have to say I thought the winning verses were rather negative. They all assumed the view was worse than the one Wordsworth saw and I don't think so. They all assumed modern London is filthier etc etc and I don't think that either.

The next competition I don't understand. Does Lucy want a thirteen line verse starting with the words 'On the twelfth day of Christmas, or does she want thirteen verses starting with the twelfth day and going on to the twenty-fourth day? Or does she really want a new twelve days of Christmas. Any thoughts, Spherians?

NO. 2726: twelve days
You are invited to supply a modern version of the final verse of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ taking as your first line ‘On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me...’ and continuing for a further twelve. Please email entries, if possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 6 December.

[Jayne Osborn]

John Beaton got an HM in the 'Two Bridges' comp, John, so it wasn't totally devoid of spherian presence
(Well done, John!)

The final verse is the one that counts all the way back from "On the twelfth day..." to "...and a partridge in a pear tree" but by the time you get there it's twelve lines in all, not a further twelve.

Do you think Lucy means 'a further eleven', John? That's the only way I can understand it.

[Jayne Osborn]

Ah, I get it now!

'On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me' is line 1.

So what he sent on the twelfth day is line 2, so it does take 'a further 12 lines' to get to the first day.

Oops, we ought to have known better than to question Lucy, methinks

[John Whitworth]

Oh, backwards eh. Sorry John for missing you. I hope you were less miserable than the winners.

[Jayne Osborn]

Is this the kind of thing, do you reckon? You need to sing this one

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me:
Twelve smelly candles,
Eleven(?) clip-on earrings,
Ten awful jigsaws,
Nine New Look vouchers,
Eight Clacton tea towels,
Seven Smiley key-rings,
Six bras (the wrong size),
Five skim-py thongs,
Four scent-free soaps,
Three CDs,
(Two of which I’ve got) –
and I’m bus-y recycling the lot!

[John Whitworth]

Yes, Jayne, you clever thing you. That's what she meant, obviously.

[John Whitworth]

Twelve Days

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me

Twelve dodgy euros,
Eleven bum directives,
Ten ropey windfarms,
Nine carbon credits,
Eight Spanish trawlers,
Seven rumpy-pumpies,
Six little hitlers,
Five MEPs,
Four dodgy stats,
Three fat cats,
Two technocrats,
And a cartload of subsidised Brie.

That is SATIRE. Actually I wouldn't mind the subsidised Brie.

[John Beaton]

John and Jayne, the premise of my two bridges poem was that you couldn't see anything for smog except gray shapes of people going to work. The last line was "Dull they are of soul who pass indeed." Yup, it was miserable.

John

[Jayne Osborn]

Miserable or not, John, it hit the spot with Lucy, which is all that matters

[Jayne Osborn]

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me:
Twelve televisions,
Eleven CD players,
Ten Breitling watches,
Nine diamond bracelets,
Eight antique tables,
Seven leather jackets,
Six chandeliers,
Five gold rings!
Four fox fur coats,
Three paintings,
Two claret jugs
- and a lock-up address, with a key.