Lucy Vickery presents this week’s competition
In Competition No. 2692 you were invited to supply a poem suitable for inclusion in Now We Are Eighty-Six.
A strong entry fell into two camps: those infused with the gung-ho spirit of Jenny Joseph’s ageing purple-clad heroine (‘When I am an old woman I shall wear purple/ With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me…) And those that have more in common with the drool, incontinence and baffled absence of Philip Larkin’s ‘The Old Fools’. There are no prizes for looking on the bright side, I’m afraid: it’s the gloom-mongers who dominate the winning line-up below and nab £25 apiece. Noel Petty gets £30.
The room where I live is like a palace,
Hoovered and polished up bright by Alice.
Alice arrives each day without fail,
Dresses me, feeds me and opens my mail.
That’s Alice.
Though I’m a bit of a poisoned chalice,
Never a grumble is heard from Alice.
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