In Competition No. 2953 you were invited to supply a sonnet that has the name of a tree hidden in every line. This fiendish challenge, which was suggested by a reader, drew a large entry — and the following envoi from Alanna Blake: ‘Gor blimey, not the easiest of romps!/ But, Lucy, press on with these teasing comps.’
Fourteen-liners mean room for seven winners this week. High fives to unlucky losers John Priestland, Nicholas Hodgson and Matt Quinn; 20 quid each to those below; Frank McDonald takes the bonus fiver.
The Roman gods were wittier than ours;
They could appear in shapes that fooled our sense,
Bamboozling hapless maidens with their powers
And giving those that pined some recompense.
Our little planet offered loads of fun,
And gods would often plump for competition,
Confirming they were masters of their art,
Clashing with fools who showed too much ambition.
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