Wordsworth

Lauren Buckeridge

Readers were asked to write an epitaph for an obsolete item.

Yvonne Moosberger, Hamilton: The newspaper honesty box lies beneath/’Cos trustworthiness died off like the wreath/

But no need to grieve, simply fill the void/By going online for the latest tabloid.

Rex McGregor, Auckland: Dear audio cassette tape, RIP/Killed off by the victorious CD/But victory is temporary dreaming/CDs are now the victims, killed by streaming.

Keith Davidson, Blenheim: In this enormous grave there lie/Remains from days now long gone by/Ah, trolleybuses clean and green/(Though red when actually seen)/O what a shame and cause of pity/In our belov’d Windy City.

Bill Heffernan, Lyttelton: My faithful quill lies quiet and still/No more to write; in endless night/None from its words doth meaning glean/They’re far too busy with their screen.

Rosemary Adler, Waiheke Island: The arrangement of your letters/Will live for generations to come./May we never forget/ Where QWERTYUIOP came from.

Poppy Sinclair, Karori: I lament the passing of the party line/That spread news through the local grapevine/ The phone rings “long”, “short”, “long”/ so the call’s not mine/But I learn Ted’s cutting hay, if tomorrow’s fine.

But the winner is Maureen Skinner of Mangawhai: So sadly missed, and oft finds me mourning/”the milkman” at our gate as each new day was dawning./ Removing empty glass bottles, with tokens inside/replaced with the fresh, creamy milk he supplied./Memory so sweet I still clearly envisage/is the creme de la cream enriching my porridge.

For the next contest, send a brief poem using this line from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven: “Once upon a midnight dreary.” Entries, for the prize below, close at noon on Thursday, January 30.