Annus Mirabilis

In Competition No. 2525 you were invited to submit a poem in which the opening of Philip Larkin’s ‘Annus Mirabilis’ was adapted so that ‘two thousand and seven’ was substituted for ‘nineteen sixty-three’ and ‘sexual intercourse’ replaced by whatever you considered appropriate. Many of your entries had a Larkin-esque bleakness and grim humour. Here’s William Danes-Volkov, man of few words: My writing career began/ In two thousand and seven/ And ended.

At the other end of the spectrum Alan Millard’s verse about the joys of retirement was a drop of golden sun, with some nice Larkin references but an effervescent, celebratory tone which contrasts starkly with the mounting fear and despair that seemed to consume the poet from middle age onwards.

The winners, printed below, get £25 each. The bonus fiver goes to David Silverman’s revolutionary Teddy Bears. Happy New Year.

Led astray by his email address, I wrongly attributed the lead limerick in last week’s competition to Bill Leith rather than to Bill Greenwell.

The primary cause of the Teddy Bear Wars
Came late in two thousand and seven,
When bears took the law into their own paws,
Having counted the score of final straws
In toy stores from Dumfries to Devon.

‘We’re exploited breeds, in word and in deed,
For a series of spurious causes:
From making hearts bleed for Children in Need,
To the fads of the fascists who feed off a creed:
Now accede to our pleas and sub-clauses!’

See the pseudo-ursine mercenary might
Led by Paddingtons, Pudseys and Poohs,
As 10,000 teddies marched on through the night,
Bears to the left of them, bears to the right,
Till Sooty addressed them: ‘Bear up for the fight!
But your names, you have nothing to lose!’
David Silverman