[Jayne Osborn]

To a Lady Seen From a Train by Frances Cornford

O Fatty, in a pair of gloves,
unloved and in a field.
Who knows what you were doing there?
It's never been revealed.

[John Whitworth]

Neat Jayne

[Jayne Osborn]

Thanks, John. It is fun, this comp!

The Scarecrow by Walter de la Mare

He prattles on about his job.
It’s not a complex task!
Who does that 'talking' scare-crow think
he is? You might well ask.

[Roger Slater]

Thou still unravished bride,
Your innocence intact,
Be patient and abide
Until the urn is cracked.

[Brendan Beary]

Had I said I was swearing these off?

Millay:
Which other lips I've kissed than yours
Behind whichever other doors
I've quite forgot; I just know summer
Sang in me, now doesn't. Bummer.

[Mary Moore]

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, and Where, and Why (Millay)

The past is dim. I know the lads were gentle.
There was enormous pleasure, I can’t deny.
Now, all alone, the loss is monumental.
I slept around a lot in days gone by.

[Brendan Beary]

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, and Where, and Why (Millay)

The past is dim. I know the lads were gentle.
There was enormous pleasure, I can’t deny.
Now, all alone, the loss is monumental.
I slept around a lot in days gone by.

Mary,
Now that's quite a funny coincidence! Very nicely played! Shall we strike some deal on how we'll divvy up the rest of her sonnets?

[Gail White]

Madame Bovary

Desperate Housewives, Chapter One.
Little Emma, starved for fun,
Took two lovers, got in debt,
Swallowed arsenic. Best show yet.

[Roger Slater]

Gail, that's a fun one indeed, but it's probably not one you should enter since Madame Bovary isn't a poem as the contest calls for.

[Roger Slater]

Brendan and Mary, I loved your Millays and found them contagious, so I dashed off one of my own (which I will not be entering):

The lips my lips have kissed
are too numerous to recall,
Like songbirds in the summer.
Godammit, it's now fall.