[Jayne Osborn]

Lots of scope with this one

(From the OED entry for 'chestnut', which might help: slang. "A story that has been told before, a ‘venerable’ joke. Hence, in extended use, anything trite, stale, or too often repeated.")

Jayne

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe Oldie Competitionxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxby Tessa Castro

Competition no 181

Roasted, bought in the street or told to unwilling ears, chestnuts come around regularly. A poem, then, called Chestnuts, maximum 16 lines.

Entries to ‘Competition no 181’ by post (The Oldie, 65 Newman Street, London W1T 3EG), fax (020 7436 8804) or email comps@theoldie.co.uk by 19th September. Please don’t forget to include your postal address.

[Douglas G. Brown]

These chestnuts which I am purveying
Were hoary well before my time;
But I make sure each one’s obeying
The rules of meter and of rhyme:

Why did the chicken cross the road?
(Which is, it’s never been denied,
The oldest chestnut ever told.)
She crossed to reach the other side.

What lady was I with last night?
(You ask, to raise domestic strife;
I answer that I’m living right.)
That was no lady; she’s my wife.

How does a French girl hold her liquor?
(I’ve known this one for forty years;
And still, the answer makes me snicker.)
She holds her licker by his ears.

[Matt Q]

Chestnuts

I watched DIY Facelift on telly,
but I think I may have misread,
‘cause my testicles slid past my belly
and hung from my nipples instead.


This is absolutely not what they're looking for, I know, but I never could resist a bad pun.

[Rob Stuart]

Although the sofa’s small there might
Be room for us all if you squish up.
But goodness me, it does feel tight!
As the actress said to the bishop.

You be an awful fool to pay
For pastry and fruit in a dish: up
The road they’re giving tarts away,
As the actress said to the bishop.

My ex-wife (this was pre-divorce)
Once slipped as she tried to serve fish up,
And coated me with creamy sauce,
As the actress said to the bishop.

I’ve had a little drink... Well, eight,
But doesh that amount to a pish up?
Let’sh shkip the boring mathsh debate,
Ash the actresh shaid to the bishop.

[Stephen Hampton]

The oldest antidotes in the e world
Some tried and true with classical reason
Some kind do shine, with lit and wit, un-furled
Some silly and willy, be Pop in season -

"so bury me in a chestnut coffin
i'll go through hell just a pop-in
i like my whisky made from corn
everybody knows i've been crazy
ever since i was a baby -
on my daddy's forty acre farm

forty acres and a mule
i barely finished school
but i know how to sing, Gee! and Haw!

first right - again - now left
she whispered in the grass
on my daddy's - forty acre - farm".

[Brian Allgar]

I, too, started off on the track of 'old chestnuts'. But what about the real ones?

xxxxxxxChestnuts

The chestnut-seller in our street,
A friendly, cheerful fellow,
Would always offer us a treat
When leaves were turning yellow.

All winter long he plied his trade;
He laughed if it was snowing,
And as each day began to fade,
His brazier was glowing.

He’d wink at us and crack some shells,
Then say “Don’t tell the others.”
We’d clutch the bags - those nutty smells! -
And run home to our mothers.

Today, the kids no longer crave
Such treats; chestnuts are passé.
But someone still puts on his grave
A box of marrons glacés.

[John Whitworth]

Good one, Brian. I think Tessa will like it.

And Rob, that made me laugh. A high standard has been set. Which leaves me to cogitate.

How about this then?

Chestnuts

A lemonade for Shorty,
Most amiable of tonkers,
Collision was his forte,
The conqueror of conkers.

His weapon cracked and warty,
A king among the stonkers,
Winner in every sortie,
Proud conqueror of conkers.

Say not that he was naughty,
Or truculent or bonkers,
Say rather he was sporty,
Brave conqueror of conkers.

An English juggernaut, he
Was quite unknown in Yonkers,
Rumbustious and rorty,
Great conqueror of conkers!

[Nicholas Stone]

Happy are we, on this nivaline eve,
For everyone's wanting and everyone's peeve
Is all in an instant just kids' make-believe:
A bag of hot chestnuts will see us to bliss.

Worries? Forget them this white winter night,
Soon everything's lovely and everything's right
And no one can help but be jolly and bright:
A bag of hot chestnuts will see us to bliss.

Have you dilemmas, your plans gang agley,
The sun hasn't shone and you haven't made hay?
Them come! It is time you were merry and gay:
A bag of hot chestnuts will see us to bliss.