| Wordsworth

O, for a draught of vintage! wrote Keats in Ode to a Nightingale. This week we invited readers to submit a short poem for or against the imbibing of alcohol.

Tony Clemow, Kamo: I don’t propose sobriety;/soberness disquiets me./But if you wish to get blotto,/subscribe to this motto:/ pass out in good society.

Auckland’s Cushla Macky (with a nod to Milton and Masefield): Sweet white wine,/And spicy nut brown ale, thus/Did ancient poets often regale us./But science warns they often link it/With death. Better not to drink it. John Mills, Gebbies Valley: What if the hackers may hack us/Or cyber-attackers attack us/Why should we care/We don’t easily scare/We’re happily worshipping Bacchus. Kate Gore, Rotorua: One wine is fine. I won’t decline./One feeds my soul. Two takes its toll.

Rex McGregor, Auckland: No bottles of wine are constricted/By warnings, where risks are depicted./I suspect it’s because/ Those who fashion the laws/Are all helplessly hooked and addicted.

Sue Dalgety, Mangaweka: The Chivas Regal that I crave/I’m told will result in an early grave/But as I sit and savour a drop/I have no inclination to stop. Clare Veltman, Rongotea: The stop switch in our brains/ Gets turned to “go” by drink/And nothing then constrains/Our inner fools, I think.

But David Calder of New Plymouth takes the prize:” Darling, I love you,” said he./”I love you, darling,” said she./”That sounds really fine;/Is it true, or the wine?”/”It is me to the wine, can’t you see?”

For the next contest, send us a brief poem beginning with this line from Instants, by Jorge Luis Borges: If I could live again my life. Rhyming is not compulsory. Entries, for the prize below, close at noon on Thursday, July 19.