Spectator competition winners: poems for St George in Bono-metrics

In Competition No. 3244, you were invited to submit a poem to mark St George’s Day that rivals in awfulness the one Bono recently penned for St Paddy. As Sam Leith wrote, in a terrifically funny and instructive piece, Bono’s offering was ‘technically incompetent to a degree that constituted an insult to the very craft of verse’. So that was what you were aiming for.

In a large and mischievous entry, there were nods aplenty to the U2 front man, both in content (‘snakes’) and form (limerick). Dishonourable mentions go to Jenny Pearson, R.M. Goddard, Brian Murdoch, Basil Ransome-Davies, Carolyn Beckingham and Roger Rengold. The winners, printed below, pocket £25 each.

Our greatest day, you all have I’m sure heard, Has got to be April the 23rd: ’Cause it’s St George’s Day, I’m telling you; It’s Shakespeare’s – did you know this? – birthday too.   Like Boris full was George of chivalry, Like Boris he wanted us to be free; And just as Boris recently was sayin’, We love freedom like people in Ukraine.   I’m sure for certain this is George’s wish: Ingerland ought to be for the English, For George was an Englishman born and bred, Who rescued maidens and killed dragons dead.   I’ve googled him. Now feel a total berk: Turns out he wasn’t English, but a Turk. At least people agree he did exist: If he had not, off would I have been pissed. Nicholas Hodgson

Let’s raise a cheer for George the saint In Spring (for it’s his season) He protects our land without complaint And for no obvious reason: He’s really a Turk, I’m sure you know, Who joined the Roman army And then was martyred cruelly although I bet he took it calmly.   He killed a dragon or so they say (Unlikely to say the least) – A legend added long after his day (There never was such beast.) Inconveniently for the current hour He’s not just England’s patron: He’s Moscow’s too, which leaves me sour, Can someone please fetch matron? Joe Houlihan

St George’s Day! Callooh Callay! Sing! Dance! Express emotion! Oh we all think he’s English – Turns out he’s Cappadocian; And we all think he’s saintly – It’s a patriotic notion. He’s