Spectator competition: compose a poet’s verse selfie (plus: what happens when the lights go out)

Submissions to the latest competition, which invited you to provide a poetic preview of when the lights go out, were impressively varied and kept me thoroughly entertained. Honourable mentions go to Katie Mallett, who had Betjeman in mind (‘Fetch out the candles, Norman…’), and to Sylvia Fairley, who was in double-dactylic mood: ‘Jittery-tickery/ Grid electricity/ won’t last for ever, you’d/ better beware…’ Others unlucky to miss out on a place in the winning line-up are Chris O’Carroll, Davina Prince and Pamela Dow. Those that cut the mustard are printed below and are rewarded with £25 each. Alan Millard takes £30.

Alan Millard And will the lights fade one by one, Fade one by one, As each man’s dwindling day is done And dark descends, A world where every waning light Brings others, waxing, into sight To burn until, in turn, the night Their daylight ends?

Or will the darkness come about, Ay, come about, When every light at once goes out And all is gone, No time for penitence or prayer, A sudden end with all wiped bare And not the faintest glimmer where The sun once shone?

Frank McDonald Where are you going to, horrid humanity? God’s in his heaven and man is in hell.