The votes are in and the decision is made. The winner of last month’s poetry competition is Sam Gwynn, for this entry on the theme of ‘dirt’:
If dirt is bad, then so are we and so is history,
For all of us were dirty once, as dirty as can be.
Our milieu was the tillage where we bent and harrowed clods
And out of dirt we made our dirty dwellings and our gods.
Soon enough we had a language full of many dirty words
As common terms for intercourse and blasphemies and turds.
We aired our dirty laundry for our tribal mates to view;
It really didn’t matter much, for they were dirty too.
And eventually we found that the constituents of dirt
Could make you ill or shame you with the collar of your shirt.
We also tried to cleanse ourselves of dirty deed and thought;
It helped a bit with nasal things; the rest was all for naught.
It is the dirt we’re risen from and try to rise the more,
But frankly speaking we remain as dirty as before.
If shedding dirt’s a lesson that we civil folk must learn,
We should remember that the dirt is where we shall return.
Thank you, as ever, to all all who contributed. The competition was intense and it was great fun to adjudicate.
Now to November’s competition and another battle for a bottle of Pol Roger. The same rules apply: entries should be left in the comments section and the epic form is
discouraged. The theme is ‘money’. Good luck!
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