In Competition No. 2565 you were invited to submit a poem about the minor irritations of life written in heroic couplets.
Things that bring out the misanthropist in me include ‘comedy’ stickers on cars (e.g., ‘my other car’s a Porsche!’), the over-enthusiastic use of exclamation marks and strangers who say ‘cheer up, love; it may never happen’, which strikes me as a very risky statement. High on yours were poor grammar, impenetrable packaging and anyone who chirrups ‘have a nice day’. And I now know that those who seek to reassure me with claims that no one minds my baby son’s piercing squawks on public transport are lying.
The winners, printed below, get £25 each except Mary Holtby, who gets £30.
What dire distress from trivial causes springs,
What ardent arrows and what subtle stings!
Soon as the vig’rous Sol with piercing ray
Sends idle Morpheus on his moping way,
War is declar’d: we know our foe is bent
On spiteful ruse and cunning harassment.
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