Sec’s report 2009 / 2010

 
October 2010-2009

Here at the turning of our year I view                                                                           sextuplets

from near to far reporting back to you

backwards to go forwards the year rehearsed:

the AGM with Ades who re-versed

faithful to meaning meter rhyme and tone

from one tongue to another all his own.                                                                      Tim Ades

 
November

Mark Ford’s set                                                                                                  Clerihew, sort of

was universally adored

those who missed it missed all defined within the OED

as wit --

what can be sharp and sweet

funny as your humerus when bit

tough/tender as integument

far-casting as each manuscript ablaze that helped the Pharos one Egyptian night

guide farers never since so brightly lit?                                                                                    Mark Ford

 

December

The Xmas Party                                                                                                          le triolet ivre; i.m. Edwin Morgan

Chez Mary

Merry Very

The Mshis Barty Parry

The Holly Mrs Toe and Berry

Piem Ince and Sherry

Elksmas Zhe Party

Zhez Barry Mhrisis Mary

Wholly Very Mrs Velly Mistles

Goo night swee’ ladies ladies goo nigh’                                                           Our Generous hostess Mary Barry                 

 

January                                                                                                     Standard Habbie’s stanza

Thay scowp and rin frae hyne an near                                                  rush/far

Frae Canterbry frae Chichestre                                                            

Frae Lewes an fra Rochester                                                                    

To ken three poets                                                                             

Oor Sassenach ain braw makars                                                       our English own fine poets

An peyed but groats.                                                                           only a derisory entrance fee

 

Graham, wi’s stags a’ gabs i’ Greek,                                                  with his/that     Graham Mummery

Clare, wha’s hauf weys intae breeks                                                        who is     Clare Best

Fit deep i’ lang kail yard fer weeks,                                                      area dedicated to the growing of brassicas

Car’lin’ tender                                                                                         Caroline Price                                                                                       

Quhiles ghaists o’ memories an loss she speaks                                       while

Sae willaewy an sklender.

 

Sich Poetry -- guidwilly wauchts frae tappit hen --                        deep goodwill draughts of liquor/quart tankard

in cutty stoups Steve’s Bacchus fine                                             tiny wee drinking vessels

transfigures word as wine, wine/

word -- we drank it

canty to hear them owr agin;                                                          gladly willing

a’ three be thankit.                                                                           all

 

 

February                                                                                                   to the tune of any suitable twilight song

There’s a silence on Neagh, a stillness in the glen

When the flower he invents explains itself to men;

 

To bandoneon’s husky echo of the final chord he’ll play

The ghosts re-blooded jive and smooch again their dancing day;

 

There’s a seaside that we left that we cannot paddle twice

But Cahal follows Orpheus there, wordmusic as device.                                                    Cahal Dallat

 

March                                                                                                              quatrains for the challenged

A bloke wiv a uke he didn’t use to play                                                         

A bint with a case of ‘umming birds                                        Arabic  بِنْت girl or daughter, used in a patronym

Vese was the types what we reserved

For March’s Toosdy

 

Kind as the sun on damp Whit Mondays

Tasty as Ms Muffett pretty wiv her curds

Direct and loving, empaffetic and absurd

On March’s funday

 

Proffesional as cox’n when they ‘eard my m’aidee

Divine as a miracle cure at Lourdes

Clear cool and nourishing and deep as Fjords

On a bonding awayday

 

From Darlington to Devon via OU at MK

From Mexico from Paree by pictograms via words

Transported goggle-eared at what we heard

Fank you for our Toosday                                                                           Bill Greenwell   Pascale Petit

 

April

                                                                                               The wondrous folk together fed and wined at an hostelry

With all țe wele of țe worlde țay woned țer samen,

Țe most kyd knytez vnder Krystes seluen

And țe louelokkest lady țat euer lif haden

For al watz țis fayre folk in her first age in Carluccios

With alle țe mete doubble on țe dece țis mirțe țay maden

Serued boțe good ber and brygt wyn alle watz țe douth.

                                                                                                Retiring to an upper chamber they did sing their songs

Syțen kayred to țe court to maken caroles               and tell their tales

lysten her layes to telle tales and her meruales

with lel letteres loken, bot on littel quile

notes noble innowe ar herde in halle so wlonk.                                                                                             

                                                                                               The contest winner held his head high

Țe lude as fortune blessyng wolde fulsun hom                                                                                                    

his lufly hede he lyft and  haldez vp on hygt

                                                                                                So they left for their own country wherever that might be

To quat kyth țay becom knwe non țere

Neuer more țen țay wyste from quețen țay watz wonnen

                                                                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                Open competition: Judge, Alan Jenkins and prizewinners

                                                                                    

 

 

                                                                                            

 

 

May                                                                                                                     

We’ll excuse                                                                                                what you will

exhibited preference,                                                                

Janice,                                                                                                                   Folio Winner,  Janice Warman

for exemplary pupils

 

now we’re tutelees

too, of all wise

Ros                                                                                         thank you Ros for the excellent ‘one or two sentences..’

 

Learning best

silently

at the swami’s knee

 

as she recites

her breathing art,

and now itself fleets

scrolling as it exists                                                                                                 Ros Barber The Folio

                                                                                             

 

                                                                                                                                            

June                                                                                                                        limerick +

An angel came from Angel Street

floating here on dancing feet

light as a feather

scented of the weather

only th’ aethereal she’d eat

Boconncini Green Salad Pinot Grigio

 

Her satchel wove of spirit and soul

seamed with liltings of the Golden Oriole

wing tips keeping rhythm

that blessed gift of heaven

yet made like us, bisque in original,

reducing kilns have fired to PING                                                                    Pauline Stainer

 

 

July   

Half naked riggers bared the way                                                                               couplets

though Mary  got up close to have her say

 

so as besiegers camped beneath the motte

personifying each a dead and chosen poet

 

the evening whiled for eight of the elite

til dusk and thirst was our defeat

 

the last assault - Chris swearing at the castle 

which, were we but gnats? moved not a muscle                                    Outdoor meeting Tonbridge Castle                                                                                                    

 

 

 
 
 

 

September

 

From Rue Ulm (disputing truly how Jardins                                   Ahren Warner   Sorbonne

in a city can they be, nor masculine

as Beaud’laire the gutter swans,

sips yellow fog, awards wee roses

his sweet flowers of pain)

the grander boucle Paris -

Wien - Belfast - Tunbridge Wells - rive gauche

 

 

 

Where and from Marlow                                                           Amy Blakemore  Deptford and Teddy Hall

saw dark sharply

she in crystal and prismatic

breaks and bottles light -

 

well outa sight she may

her underlayer embody her ‘house’

as gastropod between his leg

might buttona chemise

 

 

Spared the billhook                                                                            Jack Underwood   Goldsmiths

bosky where dwells the  Tribe of Ben

where standards, coverts care for,

are gilt by Phoebus’ morning heel etc., etc….

by foliage in the hornbook

by doubled makers marked for timber

 

 

 
 
Envoi

 

Princes, your house has many mansions                                                            blank but well meant verse

And Chamberlains enow and Ostlers too     

Manciples and Counts of the Exchequer

Heralds, Couriers, The Vizier of Utter Space,

Clarks, Maids of Good Breeding, Scriveners and such

As meanly busy them with scripts and scrolls,

The jolly Cellarmen and Madams hosting with a pleasant mien

Our Guests; alswo foregatherings of your Courteous Company

Whom all, I, as You desire me, thank and thus record

Trusting, your marks assenting addend their lustre: made

This tenth month year the second thousand of our Lord.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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