Lucy Vickery

Blond ambition

In Competition No. 2508 you were invited to submit an acrostic poem in support of Boris Johnson’s bid to become Mayor of London, in which the first letters of each line spell out BORIS FOR MAYOR.

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In Competition No. 2508 you were invited to submit an acrostic poem in support of Boris Johnson’s bid to become Mayor of London, in which the first letters of each line spell out BORIS FOR MAYOR.

In Competition No. 2508 you were invited to submit an acrostic poem in support of Boris Johnson’s bid to become Mayor of London, in which the first letters of each line spell out BORIS FOR MAYOR. There was an avalanche of entries of a variable standard. Predictably, Boris’s flaxen locks featured strongly — as did his mighty intellect. Equally celebrated were his plain speaking and joie de vivre, many of you echoing D.J. Taylor, writing in ES Magazine: ‘If I had a vote in the mayoral elections, I think I’d cast it for Boris on the Gaiety of Nations principle.’ A lone voice of dissent came from Moyra Blyth, who, though the brief asked for poems in support of BJ’s campaign, couldn’t resist chipping in: ‘Boris for Mayor? You must be joking, chum!/ Or is it that your brain needs to be tested?/ Road rage, perhaps, has rendered it congested...’. There was room for an extra winner this week, so it’s £20 each; £25 to W.J. Webster.

Beyond a dim and pink-eyed ken

Our Boris is the rising star,
Renaissance man whose fluent pen
Impugns with wit the way things are.
Strong in his views but dogma-free,
Found fearless in the cause of truth,
Outspoken when he needs to be,
Rejoicing in the verve of youth.
Multicultured in his genes,
And cosmopolitan by choice,
Yet steeped in history he means
Old London, too, should have its voice.
Roll on the day to vote BJ!
W.J. Webster

Bicycling beau with a touch of panache,

On he proceeds with precision and dash;
Resolute fighter with locks streaming free
Is there a better contestant than he?
Shame on the sillies who settle for Ken,
Fortune accords you the smartest of men;
Only the fainthearts and foolish would find
Rollicking Boris the second-rate kind.
Many have marvelled at Boris’s brain
Awesomely sharp, with the speed of a train.
You could give London its lustre again
Offering your vote in the service of one
Ready to show erudition is fun.
Frank McDonald

Boyish

Outstandingly
Right
Intellectual
Seeks
Formal
Or
Reasonably
Mature
Approval.
Yesterday’s
Opportunism
Removed.
William Danes-Volkov

Beat the drums of triumph for the coming reign of Boris:

Oxford after Eton, hence articulate as Horace.
Resplendent on his bicycle with mop of blond hair flying
In wild, defiant rebelliousness, congestion-charge defying;
Some dub him ‘dilly-dallier’ but Boris takes the knocks,
Filibustering? Maybe, but he’ll fill the ballot box.
Oblivious to censure he’ll reward his Boris-backers
Refreshing them with policies they’ll find superbly crackers;
Mark my words: this blundering buffoon is no one’s fool,
Ask Henley and they’ll tell you, he’s the bounder born to rule.
Young and old adore him as the nation’s best bar none.
Oppressed? Have I got news for you! Ken’s dismal days are done.
Rejoice and vote for Boris! The election’s all but won.
Alan Millard

Be bloody, bold and resolute, old chap —

Or we’ll be stuck with Ken — The Great Mishap.
Running the city with his bendy-buses
Instead of keeping Routemasters, to us, is
Sheer idiocy. Likewise his pigeon wars
Fought in Trafalgar Square for no good cause.
O tempora, o mores. The Tube’s fare
Requires a second mortgage — does he care?

Mounted on bicycle, staunch Classicist,

A champion who’s more than populist,
You’ll have to drop your label as a sinner
(Or risk becoming the proverbial dog’s dinner).
Rome gave its prizes only to the winner.
D.A. Prince

Boris for Mayor

Of London Town
Radical rare,
Invites renown,

Subtle, stelliferous

Friend of humanity,
Omnisplendiferous
Regent of sanity,

May all the Nation

Applaud in a chorus
Your swift elevation,
Obstreperous Boris,

Resplendent before us!

John Whitworth

Bury Ken, his record’s poor,

Only Boris knows the score.
Randy dandy, man of parts,
Isn’t he the King of Hearts?
Sex on legs, dead debonair,
Fit to be a funky mayor.
Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah!
Running London needs a dude
Mega-full of attitude.
Are we happy with Ken’s sway? 
Yikes and criminy! No way.
Only Boz can turn the tide,
Resurrecting London pride.
Basil Ransome-Davies

No. 2511: School daze

You are invited to submit an account, in prose or verse, of Christopher Robin’s first day at a comprehensive school (150 words/16 lines maximum). Entries to ‘Competition 2511’ by 6 September or email lucy@spectator.co.uk.