[basil ransome-davies]

No they are entirely different words.

[Jayne Osborn]

Ok, like - wha'ever, don't diss me, bro' !

[Marion Shore]

Another loss! It's time to quit
this weekly rat race. I'm done with it--
But wait-- this next comp might be fun:
"Write a fan letter to someone
real or fiction..." Hmm. Sounds juicy.
Worth a try. Here goes:
"Dear Lucy..."

[Roger Slater]

I've lost again.
The fix is in.
Though now and then
you'd think I'd win,

sadly, Lucy's
taking bribes,
or else (excuse me)
she imbibes,

or else she lacks
an ear for wit.
Or . . . I'm a hack.
(Uh oh! That's it!)
.
.

[Roger Slater]

Greenwell's steak.
Of course the gravy's
known as Basil
Ransom-Davies.

But tell me, Lucy,
could it hurt
to serve some Schechter
for dessert?

[Aaron Asbury]

Roger,

I really enjoyed the entries. Perhaps "...are forever a/ twosome" might exemplify the constancy with which they go hand-in-hand. (in regard to your second piece)

Aaron.

[Aaron Asbury]

The Front Runner

There’s a hush as I rush towards the victory line;
You know I love the sweet-sounds of silence!
Since my goal is the pole, rich reward will I find—
The best defense is always good offense!

So I tear with great flair towards the glory and gold,
Almost hearing the band begin to play
Hail to me! can’t you see? mine’s the best story told—
(Those other tales are a bore anyway).

Now I run for the gun that began this big race,
As I chuckle at the chumps to my rear.
It’s my speed and great lead which the poor patsies chase,
And for sad losers I’ll not shed a tear.

Well, I burn for the turn and for victory’s call
(Filled with thoughts most decidedly jolly),
But a clip and a trip and I stumble and fall…
Damned if pride doesn’t soon lead to folly!

[Aaron Asbury]

The Champion

I’m the toast of the town—hell, I’m world renowned;
In this buttermilk land, I’m the cream!
For I rise to the top—ev’ry week it’s non-stop:
As I live the American dream.

Ev’ry attempt has failed, ev’ry ship has long sailed,
No one’s left who will unseat my throne!
As my statues are raised, past the heavenly haze,
I admire those great figures of stone.

If heavy is the crown, it hasn’t got me down;
In fact I’d say it suits me just fine!
For I wear without care my most fabulous flair,
And I smile as they grimace and whine.

Perhaps it’s time I rest, leave thrones for second best—
After all I’ve done who could blame me?
But I must admit still, that I get a great thrill…
Think I’ll stay—it’s my public duty!

[Martin Parker]

If F O doesn't make it to the winners' podium I will eat my hat and several of my own "bodily nodes."