No. 1260: The winners

Jaspistos reports: Competitors were asked for a poem ending with the same words as one of Wordsworth's: 'Oh, The difference to me!'

Most of the 'differences' you chose to sing about were, like Wordsworth's, sad rather than happy (lots of tragic cuts by surgeons and the Chancellor), and most of you needlessly echoed the metre of the original. As ever, I was after the fresh ap- proach. Philip A. Nicholson neatly made the last line the groan of a camel burdened with the final straw. Peggy Sandars in- geniously offered: 'Well, take a thousand. And send — oh — The difference to me.' Jed Sowerby provided a good unexpected last verse:

When Pa said in Sevastopol, 'Let's keep a record of the hol', I photographed a factory, And oh, the difference to me!

The five winners printed below — and I hope it makes some difference to them — get flO each and Adam Khan emerges from the competitive scrimmage successfully clutching the bonus bottle of Pedro Domecq's Carlos III Selected Brandy.

Our lodger had both nous and chic, Charm, vigour and good looks; We talked philosophy, in Greek — I just adored Good Books.

We learnt the Facts of Life as well, Wed secretly, were One!

Our raptures made my waistline swell — My oven held a bun.

My guardian uncle, scenting sin, A heavy mob soon hired, Who to our nuptial couch burst in, As we by bliss lay tired.

They carved up Love's fond status quo, And left sur le lapis

A neutered Abelard, and oh, The difference to me! (Adam Khan) Ken Livingstone Says the GLC, all on its own, Is a nuclear-free zone.

For us who in the Blitz Were frightened into fits I suppose it's Thank you, Ken, You greatest of men, From every citizen For the beautiful dream That war can reign supreme Only north of Watford, south of Cheam.

If the GLC

Were really nuclear-free,

Oh, the difference to me! (Paul Griffin) When I was first a youngish bride My ma-in-law was kind, And when my cooking went cock-eyed She muttered 'Never mind.'

But when Ted caught a cold and cough: She sent him off to bed. 'Within a month the gilt was off The nuptial gingerbread.

Then later ma-in-law implied I was no wife for Ted; Remarks that verged upon the snide Repeatedly were said.

There's no divorcing in-laws, so I had to let things be; But now she's upped and died, and oh, The difference to me! (Joyce Johnson) 'I wandered, lonely as a cloud ...' In deep, unconscious reverie These words I pondered, beetle-browed, When Dorothy brought in my tea.

must say, 'tis a little queer To write of loneliness!' quoth she. 'Thou art not lonely, William dear, So long as thou resid'st with me.

Why not write "lovely"? — 'tis a word That fits the scansion perfectly.' She added, e'en as I demurred, 'How small a difference 'twould be!'

I drew myself to my full height And thundered at my Dorothy: 'Well may'st thou deem such changes slight — But oh, the difference to me!' (Peter Norman) I still recall the day we met And neither made a sound While watching, in the launderette, The washing going round.

A secret look, a gentle smile, The tumblers' steady grind — And in a very little while Our fingers were entwined.

I saw the future in a glow, With Lucy on my knee; But she has since turned gay, and oh, The difference to me! (Roger Woddis)