Spectator competition winners: ‘Why must it always be tomato soup?’

In Competition No. 3217, you were invited to supply a poem that begins or ends with the line ‘Why must it always be tomato soup?’. In Katherine Mansfield’s short story ‘Bliss’, Eddie Warren, a poet, quotes this ‘incredibly beautiful line’ of poetry, which, it turns out, inspired an incredibly witty and well-made entry. Well done, all, and £20 to the winners.

‘Why must it always be tomato soup?’ said Andy. ‘It’s high time I made a change, I’ll start to paint a comprehensive group of every flavour in the Campbell’s range.’ He painted chicken, mushroom and split pea with turkey noodle, pepper-pot and bean, clam chowder, consommé and celery, asparagus, with onion in between, scotch broth, ‘a hearty soup’ the label states, then chilli beef and minestrone — yes, the liquid delicacy resonates on every canvas — thirty two, no less. ‘It’s in the can, my future is assured, I’ll churn out soup for ever and a day,’ he beamed, declaring, ‘Now at last I’ve scored and I’ll be rich, Pop Art is here to stay!’ Sylvia Fairley

Why must it always be tomato soup? That splendid fruit deserves a kinder fate Than being macerated to a gloop Then sieved into a sad denatured state. Left either whole or halved then grilled or fried Until its skin slides off, it’s almost sweet And takes a place of culinary pride With egg and bacon as a breakfast treat. And better still, without the need for heat, The taste of fresh sliced fruit is one to savour: Fine oil and salt then make the dish complete Epitomising pure and simple flavour. But best of all it’s eaten from the vine, As firstling of a newly-ripened crop, When heady scent and lusciousness combine To purge all thought of sipping dull red slop. W.J. Webster