COMPETITION

Cosmic grouse

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1601 you were asked to carry on for another 15 lines from this beginning:

Of all the tricks the Lord has played On unsuspecting mortal man, Of all the traps that He has laid To liven up the great parade And catch us as He can...

If the kind person who sent me these lines and suggested this competition, or anyone else, can supply me with the source, I should be very grateful, as well as forewarned and forearmed against one more cosmic trick. There was a splendid entry, ranging from rollicking fun to Hous- maniac gloom. Basil Ransome-Davies, Katie Mallett, Richard Watts, John Sweet- man, Andrew McEvoy, D. Shepherd and M. R. Macintyre (the top gloomster) all appealed, but the prize money (£15 each) goes to the superexcellent winners printed below, and Sam N. Bhutto, an infrequent anagrammatic bird, gets the bonus bottle of Cognac Otard VSOP, kindly presented by the Château de Cognac.

Worse than the nesting instinct, which Deludes so well the female heart And subtly forces it to pitch On those who ultimately ditch Devotion, and depart; Worse than the self-regard of men, The monarchs of a servile earth, Lords of the jungle and the den, To whom He turns at moments when He seeks a source of mirth; Worse than all these amusing japes,

For which we regularly fall,

Is one no mortal flesh escapes - That every step we pilgrims traipse Brings no advance at all. (Sam N. Bhutto) The one that most of malice smacked Towards His creatures here beneath, The one that all compassion lacked Was that unnecessary act Of putting nerves in teeth.

These fine antennae for His pricks Can punish hubris with a twinge, The gold-tongued orator transfix, Turn bishops into heretics Or make a Hector cringe.

But Time and Darwin, labouring slow, Will drive away our harrowed frowns: In fifty million years or so We may yet turn this crown of woe Into a row of crowns. (Noel Petty) There's none at all, it seems to me, That can in any way update That underhand costectomy, When Adam, sleeping peacefully, Awoke to find a mate.

It must have been an odd surprise To find Eve lying by his side Observing him from curious eyes, Instinctively to realise That she must be his bride, That from that day they were a pair, Like cock and hen of the same feather, To get along somehow, and share, Go with each other everywhere,

Though rarely quite together.

(Gerard Benson)

The worst mistake He ever made Whcn He was fashioning the earth And filling it with light and shade In that inimitable glade Was timing human birth.

It is too foolish to believe That He could not foresee our doom And as Designer not perceive He could have first created Eve, Then Adam from her womb.

Perhaps He had the guile to see That if Man kept his own spare rib, If Woman had priority And sexist battles need not be,

He'd lose His Lordly Lib.

(Laurence Fowler) The one that really gets my goat And steams up my agnostic glasses Is when He rocks our earthly boat, Suggesting He cares not a groat, With all those aliases.

Some call him God,"some Allah, some Use names most difficult to say Jehovah, Gna, Sol, Baal, Frigg, Frum.... Each passing year there's more to come,

If not each passing day.

If only (perhaps on Christmas night)

He'd clean-breast what His actual name is, No more Crusades we'd need to fight, We'd work together day and night

Discovering what His game is! (Bill Evans)