Cuckoo I Cuckoo !

The usual prizes were offered for the best eight-line poems entitled : " A Bedouin Birdwatcher on Seeing the First Cuckoo in Autumn."

writes Mrs. V. R. Ormerod. " Having met the Bedouin," footnotes Admiral Sir William James, " I cannot conceive that a Bedouin has ever been an ornithologist and so have assumed that this chap is an employee of the Cairo Ornithological Society." Another competitor politely informs me that " Bedouin " is plural. I'm glad to know all this. Though it's not saying much, I've heard, watched and read of more cuckoos in spy time than Arabs, and I know one thing that 49.2 per cent. of a large entry showed they did not know. Wing-Commander Palmer's Arab had the right idea, though I'm not so sure about the Hebrides :

In Spring, they say, in Northern nests Thou lay'st thine eggs, unbidden guests, And break'st the silence of the seas

Among the farthest Hebrides.

But here more pleasant wilt thou be, Thy cuckold brood we never see ; Thy mocking voice is never heard ; Twice welcome I single, songless bird.

Or, as A. H. G. puts it :

Her mate, praise Allah, left his voice behind.

Hence Delius in a burnous, his eyesight greatly improved, standing on his head, bless him. It was a pity so many had to be disqualified on a technicality. I enjoyed D. L. L. Clarke's triolet ; H. A. C. Evans' parody of Wordsworth was nicely pointed :

Bismillah, thou art back once more I

I see thee, hear thy voice.

'Twill soon be as it was before, . And I do not rejoice.

Some Bedouin (sic ?) took this opportunity of scoring points off the British. Guy Kendall's Bedawee (sic ?) said :

. you the scheme And type of Northern piracy, we deem, Laying your eggs in someone else's nest Embodiment of many a British dream.

A musical suggestion Of Europe's state of mjnd. wrote Peter Hadley.

Some showed themselves in their true colours :

With an eye To pigeon pie The birdwatcher Cried : " Gotcher ! "

(T. GODFREY4AUSSETT)

There were some rare gems (uncut) :

By Allah's beard I The cuckoo's call With summer past, it must be fall. ' But, Bird, your navigation's poor ; If this is Spain—then I'm a Moor.

(0. MACADAM)

Of Bedouins there are but few Who birdwatch and are poets too And write in English as I do ....

Soaring aloft above life's earthly trammels (The sand, the ruddy sun, the ruddy camels.)

(JAMES BOWKER)

I award £1 10s, each to A. M. Sayers and Douglas Hawson and LI each to M. M. M. and R. Kennard Davis. Highly commended: W. Bernard Wake, John Body, James Bowker, Nancy Gunter and Hope Scott.

PRIZES

(A. M. SAYERS)

Autumn is icumen id ; Here's the dumb cuckoo. Will the dumber tourist come As be used to do ?

All is moil and search for oil And visitors are few ; No one hireth, so Cook fireth

Me, the Cook-cuckoo.

(DOUGLAS HAWSON)

0 patriot bird To Allah be the praise That thou art back to lighten desert days With merry tales how•in the haughty West Thou didst exploit the unbeliever's nest 1

Here we but sit and sulk within the tent Whilst all our wealth is filched and westward sent, But thou, each Spring defying cold and damp, Bearest the war into the foeman's camp 1

(R. KENNARD DAVIS) Sweet' stranger, to our sun-bleached solitudes Bearing your tale of distant dreamland places,

Blue hills and misty skies and darkling woods, Streams ever-foaming, infinite oases.

Lend me your wings of grey I Let me forsake This world of stinging sand and scorching skies, And evermore my thirsty spirit slake By the cool waters of your paradise !

(M. M. M.) How wise the errant cuckoo, free From all responsibility 1 No lasting claim of mate or brood Awakens its solicitude.

In summer-time it loudly mocks At those who would be orthodox ; In autumn silently applauds The choice of our nomadic hordes.