[FOsen]

done, John.

[Roger Slater]

Someday when my epitaph
is chiseled on a stone,
the mason may just pause and laugh
to learn that I was known

primarily by what I wrote
in meter loosey-goosey
with hopes that I might win a vote
of confidence from Lucy.

Lucy, I now beg of you,
don't let him laugh too loudly.
Let him carve, "He won the five,"
so I can molder proudly.

[Jayne Osborn]

Bob,
You gave me the idea for this when you wrote:
After a week of parades, toasts, and telephone calls from world leaders, I just wish people would leave me alone. I only wish I had used a pseudonym

There is nothing so thrilling as seeing one’s name
in The Speccie. Oh, how I adore the acclaim
from the very fine wordsmiths and poets I know
when I make it to page 57… although,
being mentioned on *!*PAGE 56*!* – dizzy heights –
is a cut above having my name up in lights!

It’s the ultimate honour, it’s kudos, cachet,
approbation, prestige, plaudits coming my way
till I feel quite exhausted, worn out by the glory
from clamouring journalists wanting my story.

When a whole week has passed, having dinners with toasts,
making speeches containing quite obvious boasts,
a chat on Today, friendly calls from world leaders,
and emails and texts from appreciative readers,

…it’s after all this, when my head has stopped spinning,
I sit and take stock: Yes, I do enjoy winning!

(I had to check, but the winners' names and poems are always spread over pages 56/7)

[Roger Slater]

Keep your silly Nobel Prize,
your Pulitzer, your Plume d'Or,
your Waverton Good Read Award,
your Hesell-Tiltman Prizes or

your Newdigate, your Commonwealth,
your Forward Prize, your Betty Trask.
Lucy picked my poem last week!
What more can any writer ask?
.
.

[R. S. Gwynn]

Bill Greenwell's the name, I'm on top of the game, I'm
The richer by £25.
Each week I write verses that summon up curses
From them as ain't done as I did.

I'm deft as a rhymer, it seems like a crime or
A shame to be good as I am;
I feel for the rest of you, even the best of you
Prefix my name with a "damn."

My meters are flawless; you'll find little solace
In looking for flab in my feet.
My language is funny, both witty and punny,
Informed by the slang of the street.

So shut up your crying and just keep on trying
To better the boy if you can.
Just open your Speccie, you'll have to cry, "Ecce
Bill Greenwell! Bill Greenwell's the man!"

[Jayne Osborn]

Mod,

I think you need "The richer by 25 quid" in L2 - I first read '£25' as 25 pounds and it loses what you meant!

[David Anthony]

Lucy picked me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in.
Time, you thief! who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in.
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad;
Say that hope has ever tricked me;
Say I'm growing old, but add-
Lucy picked me!

[Jerome Betts]

Thought I'd try one without direct reference to Lucy V. or Bill G.

[R. S. Gwynn]

Jerome, change "giants" to "greats."

[Jerome Betts]

RSG, funny you should say that, as I originally had 'greats', and then changed it, vaguely feelng it was a bit strange or American. I imagine you are taking 'giants' as disyllabic. I think it can (just) be compressed into one syllable, at least in some strangled varieties of BE, but wouldn't want to risk a metrical hiccup on this one, so will change back to 'greats' or 'stars' or something. Thanks. I think 'jewel's' is a traditional two way bet, on the other hand.