Bouts rimés | 27 January 2007

The rhyme scheme is from Auden’s ‘The Composer’. As eagle-eyed Basil Ransome-Davies, who spotted this, remarked, ‘It’s hardly the best of Auden, so compers have a chance of writing a superior poem.’ We shall see. Some objected to the word ‘adaption’, claiming their spellcheck didn’t acknowledge its existence. Auden was no slouch: the word is plainly recognised in my Chambers. I reckoned it was a difficult comp, so a large and skilful entry impressed me. Commendations are too numerous to mention. Just general congratulations. The prizewinners, printed below, get £25 each, and the bonus fiver goes to George Simmers.

Says God, ‘That’s one of my unfinished sketches —
A planet I’ve decided to reject.’
He makes a sign to Gabriel, who fetches
Bottle and glasses. ‘I thought I would connect
Intelligence with life. Darwinian adaption
Made the link neatly — no essential rift
Divides the two — but man’s an odd contraption.’
He sighed. ‘I hoped they’d really use my gift,
Think thoughts so brave they’d send a thrill cascading
Down even my antique almighty spine —
But no. They use their brain to go invading,
Hurting and punishing . . . I’ll make no song
And dance about it — I just got it wrong.’
He crushed the planet with his thumb. ‘Some wine?’
George Simmers

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If you can make realistic skilful sketches,
The kind the clever critics all reject,
If you can sell each one for what it fetches
And with a proper market-place connect,
If you can paint from life without adaption
Nor leave between your work and truth a rift,
Avoiding installation and contraption,
You may discover you possess a gift.
If you can make the colours come cascading
Until they send a shiver down your spine,
If you can keep the theories from invading,
You’ll make your art as popular as song.
You’ll show the art establishment is wrong.
And we will drink your health in sparkling wine.
Philip