Competition: Paracrostic

In Competition No. 2724 you were invited to supply a poem in which the initial letters of each line read down the page reproduce the last line.

Though some of you clearly relish competitions of this kind (check out Frank McDonald’s double-paracrostic in the winning line-up), there was the inevitable rumble of protest in the ranks. Here’s Jerome Betts: ‘To write a verse within such rules,/ How can this count as fun?/ I think that only drunks or fools/ Suspect it can be done…’ Bill Greenwell agrees: ‘Some competitions/ Expect you to slave/ Nightly. Perdition/ Draws near, as, unshaved,/ Manic and glum,/ Expecting to die,/ Folly fills bumf./ It’s like working out pi.’

Discontent notwithstanding, you rose to the challenge with gusto. Commendations to Neil MacKinnon, Alan Birglar, John Samson, Mary Holtby, Mae Scanlan and D.A Prince. The winners are printed below and get a well deserved £25 each. The bonus fiver belongs to Ray Kelley.