Spectator competition winners: poems about imperial measures

In Competition No. 3255, you were invited to submit a poem about imperial measures. Brian Bilston’s terrific poem ‘The Empire’s Old Clothes’ gave me the idea for this topical challenge, which proved hugely popular, drawing a gratifyingly large, varied and witty entry.

Bob Johnston’s twist on ‘Ozymandias’ – ‘Look on my ounces, tons, slugs, and despair!’ – and Brian Murdoch’s bittersweet Villon-inflected submission – ‘And where are the measures of yesteryear?’– were in contention for the prizes, but they were nudged out by the winners below who are rewarded with £25 each.

Full fathom five, the dead cat lies in peace, The fallen feline worth her weight in gold. Ten pounds of puss, down thirty feet, stone cold – Stop all the clocks and mourn her sad decease! Enough of water hast thou had, dear mog, Two hundred gallons, give or take a pint And therefore will I bid my tears restraint, While thy demise leaves voters all agog.