Competition | 26 February 2011

Lucy Vickery presents this week’s competition

In Competition No. 2685 you were invited to submit a marital dialogue in verse.

The scene set was one of interspousal disharmony: a domestic hell peopled by a familiar cast of nagging frigid wives and long-suffering, emotionally disengaged husbands. Not much ammo there for the pro-marriage lobby, then.
Tim Raikes, Bill Greenwell and Josephine Boyle were only narrowly eclipsed by the winners, printed below, who are rewarded with £25 each. Max Ross nabs the extra fiver.

Shall I compare thee to a summer day?
No, no — I need to sleep. No time for play.
Then, dear, make me immortal with a kiss.
I told you I’m too tired. Don’t take the piss.
You walk in beauty like the night, I think.
Please go to sleep. You’ve had too much to drink.
When I am old and grey, you may regret.
You’re there already, my forgetful pet.
You can be cruel, my phantom of delight.
At three a.m I think I’ve every right.
And so untender. Loving would be nice.
It would, perhaps, had we not been there twice.
But there are pleasures still upon the shelf.
Then go away and find them by yourself.
So must I sleep alone and dream in pain?
Oh, very well. God, here we go again!
Max Ross


I saw Penny Devlyn in Fagley’s today.
Buying a dress shirt for snobby old Ray?
Oh, Ray’s not that bad — he can be very nice.
I don’t deny that, but it comes at a price.
They’re sailing to France in the summer again.
In that case, my darling, we’re flying to Spain.
I’m quite fond of Ray, dear; don’t be such a churl.
And haven’t I noticed? Just watch it, my girl.
They’d run out of Stilton, dear, so I got Brie.
Any old cheese, love, is okay with me.
I looked at the lampstands but nothing seemed
right.