In Competition 2646 you were invited to submit a poem that might have been included in T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Dogs.
Many of you followed Eliot’s lead and used long lines, so space is limited. I will pause only briefly, then, to commend this week’s stellar runners-up — Frank Osen, Brian Murdoch, George Simmers, Martin Elster and Shirley Curran — before handing you over to the worthy winners, printed below. They get £30 each; Bill Greenwell nabs the bonus fiver.
Barker is a guard-dog, and a hard dog,
watching prowlers,
And some suppose his eyes are closed, and that
he’s deep in slumber,
But though he is a sentinel, he’s a gentleman of
growlers,
And nods you through politely if he knows
your name and number —
The burglars call him Cerberus as at the gates
to Hades:
They tiptoe past him softly in their stockings
and their slippers.
But Barker, though he has a certain weakness
for the ladies,
Will hobble any robbers with his grinders and
his grippers.
Trespassers in vacant lots are much to Barker’s
taste and
Though he nods to constables, with pilferers,
he’s rancorous:
An arsonist or larcenist who sneaks across his
waste land
Will tell you later, smarting, that he’s callous
and cantankerous.
His eye is peeled, his ear half-cocked, he’s
thoroughly methodical,
His sense of who is dangerous is subtle and
subliminal.
On windy nights a woman’s touch finds Barker
quite rhapsodical,
But Barker has his darker side if your
intention’s criminal.
Bill Greenwell
O’Hennessy’s a demon dog; he’s called the
Hound from Hell.
You can tell when he’s approaching by a
sulphuretted smell.
He combines an evil temper with the whiff of
rotten eggs,
And having turned your stomach he returns to
bite your legs.
O’Hennessy, O’Hennessy, there’s no one like
O’Hennessy,
A byword for atrocities from Tokyo to
Tennessee.
His victims fill the hospitals, his dung pollutes
the streets
And the taxis that he hijacks all have torn and
filthy seats.
You may contact Heath and Safety, you may
dial 999,
You may write to your MP, but you will find
they’ll all decline.
O’Hennessy’s a mongrel with the physique of a
bear
And bloodshot eyes that boil with rage through
coils of matted hair.
He salivates an acid flux. He growls like
Krakatoa.
He swallows cats and smaller dogs, elastic as a
boa.
No prudent person ventures out until he is
quite sure
The menace called O’Hennessy is far from his
front door.
Basil Ransome-Davies
Hieronymus Hound has his nose to the ground
When he’s out on the scent of a trail,
At the hint of a whiff, he’ll snuffle and sniff
With a spirited wag of the tail.
He may appear wrinkled and chronically crinkled
With ears drooping down to his toes,
But what sets him apart, being state of the art,
Is his really remarkable nose.
He’ll sniff out a rat at the shake of a hat
Yet, given the chance, he prefers
To make a quick beeline for any stray feline
No matter how pleading its purrs.
Though he’s easily led when he lowers his head
In pursuit of his nostrils alone,
When it comes to the crunch he’s the pick of
the bunch
And a pedigree down to the bone.
Alan Millard
When a crime is so ingenious that it’s baffled
Scotland Yard
And the criminal’s so brazen that he’s left a
calling card,
When there’s not a clue or motive, not a
witness to be found,
Then canine help is what you need, and
Brindley Gray’s your hound.
He’s a gentleman detective, he’s an intellectual
sleuth,
The scourge of all that’s wicked in his fierce
pursuit of truth.
The most hardened malefactor finds his blood
has turned to whey,
When he hears the chase now at his back is led
by Brindley Gray.
Yet until he sights his quarry you might take
him for a fop
With a profile and a lofty air no mannequin
could top;
All elegance and presence in his smoothly-
fashioned coat
He moves with such light-footed grace he
almost seems to float.
Yet only let him glimpse a hair, and then the
hunt is on,
His springs of energy released, his lazy languor
gone:
Relentlessly through twist and turn he closes
on his prey,
The hound of justice, world-renowned, the
peerless Brindley Gray!
W.J. Webster
No. 2649: The long view
You are invited to submit a news bulletin on the outcome of the general election delivered by a well-known figure from history (150 words maximum and please specify your chosen mouthpiece). Please email entries, where possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 26 May.
Comments