Lucy Vickery

Documentary

In Competition No. 3032 you were invited to provide a poem about passports.
 
While the news that British passports issued after October of next year would be navy blue rather than burgundy was heartily cheered in some quarters, others — like Nicola Sturgeon, who denounced it as ‘insular nonsense’ — weren’t so delighted. And others still wondered what all the fuss was about.
 
The full spectrum of opinion was reflected in a small but punchy entry, and in the winning line-up. Commendations go to David Silverman’s ‘Jerusalem’-inspired verse, and to Frank Upton, Sylvia Fairley and Fiona Pitt-Kethley. The winners net £25. Basil Ransome-Davies takes £30.
 




I got my first at age eleven,
A ticket to another land
Guaranteed by Ernest Bevin.
It felt like freedom in my hand.
 
I saw the Rhineland’s saddened state
Six years after the war we won;
My passport meant I couldn’t hate
The fallen enemy, the Hun.
 
A dynasty of documents
In midnight blue (or black) unbent
Any contorted inference
That Englishness was heaven-sent.
 
My present one is burgundy.
The face in it is bald and lined.
Old Ernie Bevin’s history.
But passport-wise, I’m colour-blind.
Basil Ransome-Davies
 
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: I know you think it’s set in stone
Some proud blue British passport in your hand
Will charm away the threat of foreign frown.
You think it gives priority, command
And status — something you can take as read;
That you can stroll through barriers and things,
Not wait where lesser-passport folks are led.
 
But lift your eyes: though circling stars appear
They do not beckon you. Those starry rings
Welcome those others. Look! and then despair
The wreckage that has brought you this decay,
And how your love of boundaries means you’ll bear
This long and weary queue, stretched far away.
D.A. Prince
 
Dear kind Britannic Majesty, I write
Most humbly, as I’ve done throughout your reign,
Imploring you to use your royal might
To get me out of trouble once again.
Although my passport’s British, here’s my plight:
I find myself unfairly stuck in Spain,
Imprisoned out of anti-British spite.











































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