The Poem of the Month for October 2022, selected by 2022 Anthology Editors, Veronica and David Cookson, is ancestors by Rory Harris. The commended poems for October are Torbay (a phonetic acrostic) by Sharon Foulkes and In Dogs we Trust by Peter Meech.
ancestors
Rory Harris
My wife
will never
wash you
so, how many hands
will miss
this opportunity
bathing you
seal slick
glistening
perfumed body
as your grandmother’s
garden still throws
colour into a suburban
universe of scent
Torbay (a phonetic acrostic)
Sharon Foulkes
Timeless twitter and tick-tick
in tall timbers that tower over
tangled tendrils and twisted trunks in tatters;
The orison
of an ornithological chorus,
always at some ornery hour;
A barrow-full of bottlebrush in bloom
bounced through a ballet of butterflies
beyond the bend;
Ancient terrain tamed into acreage:
black-face graze while snakes predate –
and then again, rain.
In Dogs we Trust
Peter Meech
If dogs ran the world what a treat it would be
We’d be happy and peaceful, wealthy and free
They wouldn’t ask much from you or from me
Just a bone, an old slipper, a ball and a tree.
If tails were to wag in the corridors of power
Our true friends would guide us in our darkest hour
They’d be loyal and faithful and really quite smart
Housetrained and skilled in the political art.
In debate harsh words would never be said
They’d all wag their tails and sniff backsides instead
If our local MP was called Trusty or Rover
We’d offer him a biscuit and watch him roll over.
Each nation would choose its own breed, I am sure
A bulldog in Britain a poodle in France to adore
In Australia a kelpie might win the top job
Or perhaps a blue heeler, to follow the mob.
In America an election they’d surely call
Brass bands and streamers and free bones for all
And whatever his breeding, the winner would be
Wealthy, male and good on TV.
But President Fido would do all he should
Growl at the bad guys lick the hands of the good
And if he lifted his leg on somebody’s boot
A political faux pas, but please don’t shoot.
In the far away kingdoms of Allah they might
Choose a bloodhound, the glorious Jihad to fight
Each morning and evening, when the faithful pray
He would face toward Mecca and loudly he’d bay.
With dogs in control life would be settled and nice
The changes they’d make would be well worth the price
Our new leaders would be steadfast, honest and just
And the banners would read proudly — In Dogs We Trust.