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1. Poem for Faringdon - * Val Sansford* winner - Jim's Choice
Dear Jim, I'll have a go and I'll try to write a rhyme,
It'll have to be a quick one as I don't have too much time.
You see, any time I have be it day or be it night,
I'm obsessed with letters written on the Faringdon web site.
Some of them are useful and some of them are pants
often little niggles but sometimes all out rants !.
Dog poo, housing, traffic and the messy Folly park,
the Market Place improvements which were surely just a lark ?.
With speed bumps that keep breaking, wooden posts that get knocked down,
I'd love to turn the clock back and reinstate our good old town.
Can Faringdon go back to how it used to be,
Maybe only you Jim can 'Fix It' just for me !.

(ps..Jim, any chance the prize could be a newly painted kitchen ?!)

2. The Run Down London Road - Paul Cornell

The town surrounds a central folly,
Is framed and explained in churches and pubs,
Is led out from by long roads like gateways,
And hides its hills for the walking old.

It's where every thing is found in its opposite,
The big screen in the coaching inn,
The mayor walks slow with his bags of groceries,
The tennis club and the wheelie bins.

My picture of heaven is a map of Faringdon,
So many church bells so much beer,
Our lives are tied up in the Fifteen Minute Club,
And no fear, no fear, no fear, no fear.

3. Angler - Hilary Taylor

Nightly,
he trawls his screen
for sustenance in the shallows
of our small-town thought.
Now and then he glimpses
a flash of reason; wit slips by
elusive as an eel.
Shoals of fighting words swirl and eddy round an issue.
Dare him to cast his bait.
Fearful, he steps back.
These People's Piranas would eat him
alive
4. Ode To Talking Points - anon

F oul mouthed fishermen, and
A noisy recycling van.
R eckless vandals and litter,
I nspirng 15 minute Club and band.
N o youth club at all, but a
G reat Madd May Fest.
D ogs swimming and dog mess.
O des great and small, there is
N o place like Faringdon.org
5. Rap Rap Who's There - Hilary Taylor

A funky spot dat TIC
For starting off dis poetry
Seems no disgrace to dis this place
With so much hassle in yo' face
Dem planning dudes dey got no feel
For what us honkies know is real
Dat builders' crap just give us blues
Like dog shit, man, stuck on our shoes
But park yo' limo on dat street
De aint no fines and life is sweet
Dis crazy space it's no doomstown
So get yo' homies, come on down
6. Talking Points - anon

Ill try to write a poem
It wont be very long
(trying hard to please you
in the style of Patience Strong)

The topics that you'll see here
And varied they may be
Have one thing that's in common
Their for our community

Things can get rather heated
With insults flying free
On the council, youth clubs, liter
And of course the T-I-C

But despite our little nigles
When all is said and done
Most of what we write here
Is really "just for fun"

7. Sonnet Anonnet - Hilary Taylor

As oft thy letters, avid I peruse,
My fevered thoughts provok'd by notions new.
In truth I sometimes think my mind to lose
In myriad storms of passion. Calms be few.
Thy faerie-fancies from within the heart
Find reckless audience with eager swords
To smite in fury, render thee apart,
While yet in innocence thou penst thy words.
Take courage, tortured friend, tho' much maligned.
Pursue thy fierce crusades on fearless tide.
For when (on mischief bent) thou seeks to wind,
Thy gentle person's hid in 'name supplied'.
So long may strife continue. Toast in wine
Thy 'Talking Points' on Faringdon Online!
8. Haiku.com - Hilary Taylor

birthing words
ideas in the ether
binary combat
9. The Folly Ball. - Cleveland Gibson

There is nothing better,
Than to get the letter,
Inviting you to the Ball.

So don't give it a miss,
But do sling me a Kiss,
And wear what must enthrall.

WOW! Such A Blood-red dress,
Gucci, low- cut I guess,
God! I think you look Divine.

So put away your fear,
Also spare me your Tear ,
As we dance down the line.

To miss out this treat,
It wouldn't be Neat,
Or chic I might say.

So when we Tango to Mars,
And your eyes glitter like stars,
“I will Love you all the way.”

The end

10. It's Not All Bad - Roger Young

A line of Mauve near
Faringdon
not litter--Lilacs!

11. It Ai'nt Necessarily So - Roger Young

They say a Haiku
distilates your thoughts-
Your's not mine.
12. Talking Points or Creaking Joints - Cleveland Gibson

In a town so old, there is a tale that's told,
Of how crazy rats, ate all the mangy cats,
Killed the barking dogs, then the fat hogs.

In this town so neat,of course, it's no mean feat,
To climb a monkey tree, or drink an Earl Gray Tea,
Or sup from a stone jar, and without using a car.
It's here in Folly town, rumours spread about Talking,
Points awarded to those tough settlers from Dorking.

Here indeed, was plenty of need,
To see a show, we all must know,
It goes by the name Folly Ball, a black tie do for all,
But there's plenty of talk, about the circular walk,
And poppies on Folly Hill, enough to give us all a thrill.

Then the rain in Spain splashes down here again,
And the LightHouse light made the night so bright,
Oh, Talking Points I say:”Make it happen every day!”
13. Rapunzel’s Allsorts*Sarah Fuller* - winner of "The most popular poem" prize

On the edge of the world famous Cotswolds
Not far from the Saxon White Horse,
Stands a tower, which is fit for Rapunzel.
Handsome beaus, there are plenty of course.

The tower – a magnificent Folly
Stands atop a rabbit run mound
Where joggers and dog walkers a plenty
On fair days and foul can be found.

Were Rapunzel to look out her window
And gaze at the town far below,
There’d be much that she’d see to amuse her,
And little to make her feel low.

Like a box off Liquorice Allsorts,
This town’s filled with many delights.
Though there might be the odd one won’t tempt her,
She’s sure to find something she’d like.

There’s croissant and coffee al fresco,
Or a pie and a warm pint of beer.
There’s music and singing a plenty,
Gigs and fests. held at all times of year.

We know there are poetic old rockers,
And teachers who like to throw pots.
There are plumbers who paint watercolours,
And, oil painting mechanics? Maybe not.

There are athletes of many persuasions,
And those who don’t play, they support.
Yes, of sporting events in all seasons,
She could surely give good reports.

Maybe the next drama production
Could be an outdoor affair …
We could sit with our picnics and vino,
Calling “Rapunzel! Please let down your hair.”
14. Extraordinary - Sarah Fuller

There’s no such thing as ordinary,
Normal is not a word
I would use to describe this market town,
No, that would be absurd.

It’s full of, well how can I describe
The folk, the populace,
Who dwell within the boundaries
Of this very … special place?

There are problems with the parking,
With fishing and with dog poo,
Some object to noisy music
And the youth have nothing to do.

But if you look beneath the camouflage
Of petty moans and grumbles,
You’ll find it’s full of diamonds
Of the kind that really humble.

So to those who give their time,
Who raise a smile in young or old,
Who work to make things better,
It’s time that you were told;

There will always be those people
Who are miserly with their praise,
But you know the act of giving
Is the job that truly pays.
15. A Forgotten Art - Sarah Fuller

Talking.
Yes
You Know,
Open your mouth and words come out.
Go on,
You can.
Let rip – have a really good shout,
Or a laugh.
No?
No, ok then…
Bad idea.
Just text me what you want for tea then dear.
16. A Limerick Poem - anon

Oh Faringdon's lucky indeed
That everyone's brought up to speed
On everyday doings
And goings and to-ings
It's all on the website to read

Invited to give our opinions
Although we were ignorant minions
We set to with relish
To rubbish what's hellish
In all of our council's dominions

But a humorous slight on bad grammar
Resulted in unholy clamour
A deluge of verses
Bad-mouthing and curses
(F.Cat was bumped off with a hammer)

A certain young man on a mission
When viewing this web opposition
Said "I shall endeavour
To vanquish the clever"
And founded a verse competition

This stalwart of whom I make mention
Suggested a forum extension
Before we all knew it
We buckled down to it
And turned to poetic invention

So now as my effort's complete
And with verses my epic's replete
Shall I 'send' - will it win it
Or shall I just bin it?
No, I'll just let the Ed. hit 'delete'!

17. A Cautionary Tale Of Jim Who Encouraged
The Poetasters Of Faringdon And Came To A BAD END - Geoffrey Williams

This sorry tale concerns poor Jim,
There's no denying but for him
This new desire for poetry,
In Faringdon, would never be.
"We'll have a competition for
The writers of great verse and more.
The world will know in Faringdon
The spirit of Great Pye lives on.
Know well, a local sire begat
The worst of Poets Laureate.
Here is a chance to pen a line,
Get on the web and win some wine".
The verse flowed in from every side
With contributions nationwide.
Online was swamped. The mood was caught.
"It gratifies the heart",Jim thought.
But where you sow, there must you reap.
The poetry piled up in a heap.
Poems of every sort and spirit,
Works with variety of merit.
With rhyming couplets in pentameters,
Even Shakespearean decameters.
The clever ones had rhyme internal.
Too many though had rhyme infernal,
Not rhyme intrinsic ( Betjeman )
But verse and worse with great elan.
Now surely was the biter bit.
Was there no way of stopping it?
Poor Jim now knew he'd forced the locks
And opened up Pandora's Box.
How would he cope? He couldn't read
A fraction of the verse received.
He made a plan, abrupt and mean.
He'd disappear from off the scene,
And with a contemplative jar
Seek solace in The Portwell Bar.
And there he sinks, from bad to worse,
In little pain and free from verse.
The moral of this tale's not new :
Don't bite off more than you can chew.
18. The Winning Cure. - Linda King

There was a fab fella called Jim
Who had a fanciful whim.
He thought it ‘bout time
We partook of some rhyme
To make us a little less grim.

We had worried and fretted, it’s true,
About grammar and litter and poo.
We all turned to these pages,
Let fly rants and rages,
Until we all felt really blue.

Jim set us a fanciful task
“Make me laugh, is all that I ask.
Pay no heed to the gramma
Drop a poorly spelt clanga
And in fame and fortune you’ll bask!”

So, flat on my back and in pain,
These thoughts I am trying to tame
Into some kind of order
Lest I get any border
And end up completely insane.

If I win there’ll be no end to my glee
I’ll be prancing around like a flea.
And won’t that be clever
To say I got better
Just by writing some poor poetry.
19. Forget Me Not. - Sharon Rich

Keep me in your heart my friend,
So I can be with you wherever you go.
Keep a piece of me inside,
So we will never feel alone.

Keep me in your mind my friend,
For I will always think of you,
Through smiles and laugter, tears and pain,
We can face them together.

Keep your senses awake my friend,
For around you will my spirit glide.
When I am gone from this sore life,
My echoes will remain inside.
20. F in Faringdon - Graham Fletcher

While on a stroll through Folly park I heard a dog begin to bark, the beast it seemed was in the drink and fishing lines began to sink, the fishermen got very mad and things were looking pretty bad, don’t let that mut swim in our mere or we will kick your bleedin ear!

Meanwhile a bunch of feral brats were on the prowl like prairie cats, they’d been

kicked out of Gloucester St with flakes of car paint on their feet, still armed with chips and sticky drink what can we do they began to think, there is no youth club life’s so dreary, there’s only one thing for it really, we’ll go to folly park at night and set the picnic bench alight! Then, not impressed with modern culture, they smashed the top off the trendy sculpture!

If you’ve got a thing about clanking glass or you’ve’ stepped in something from a stray dogs a**e, talking points is there for you, where you can air your point of view.

But construct your words in the correct manner, or the word Police will correct your grammar. Leaping from the ether in a pedantic hat, a malevolent fiend called the Folly cat, will vent it’s spleen and before you know it, everyone has become a Poet….
21. Jolly Folly - John Reynolds

It is all so tre jolly,
Sat On top of le Folly
Enjoying our cheese and wine.

They may think it queer
Us being up here
but the view is absolutely divine.
22. Charity Begins at Home - Sharon Rich

Give a little of you time,
Help the needy - tow the line.
Aid a stranger now; today,
Make the danger go away.

Give a little of your money,
Make a souls dark skies turn sunny.
A comforting beverage to warm inside,
And make troubles away to glide.

Give a little of your heart,
Help the destitute make a start.
Let us take a willing stance,
For the benefit of others, let us dance.

Smile upon a strangers face,
Saddened hearts for it to grace,
You don't even have to pay,
it might just make someone's day.

Give a little of your soul,
Put the rice into the bowl,
Hear their beseeching, because it's true-
That one day it could be you.

Give a little of your mind,
Do your piece to serve mankind.
Where benevolence bids you roam,
Charity begins at home.
23. From Bad to Verse. - anon

Jim fixed it for me,
To write poetry,
In the past Ive not managed a letter,
But as this is fun,
no harm will be done,
and that makes me feel, much better,

I would hate a brick bat from old Folly cat,
if my spelling went slightly off course,
She toys with her prey, then slinks away,
To lick at her keypads and claws,

And old HGM, my dears what a gem,
On this site there is always a place,
And Jim's sarcastic wit
Over a misplaced submit,
Makes the tears run down this old face,

SO thank you Jim, I know I won't win,
And writing has taken some time,
I'll be proud anyway, when I think of the day,
When my poem was on Faringdon online.
24. The Fifth Month - Sylvia Bowley

There MAY be quite a lot to say
In this merry month of MAY
MAYbe the place to start would be…..

MAYday – the time for dancing round
A MAYpole, bedecked I’ll be bound

In lands afar we would possibly find
A MAYan culture, a very different kind

Back home your town would have a MAYor
Dressed in his gold and sat in his chair

At times we play the game monopoly
If you do it well, and play it properly
You sweep the board, and go to MAYfair
Buy hotels and such, the other’s don’t dare

After that it’s a salad of things with ham
Lettuce and toms, with MAYonnaise and spam

At the end of it all, get the kids to bed
As MAYhem ensues and stories are read

The day draws to a close and this silly prose
The word ‘MAY’ for you a riddle I enclose
If you count the words right, you will go to heaven
Of course you are right the answer is eleven.
25. WAR - Sylvia Bowley

Is useless, messy, cruel, unending,
Is rowing, arguing, shouting, slaying
Men battle for their country,
Governments decree they fight and die,
Women shouting, crying, asking why,
My man, my son, my cousin, my friend
No more
Oh Lord

Is flattening, starving, moving, ruining,
Things were growing, all are gone,
Mud and water, rain, and mess,
Food spoilt and short, water poisoned,
People moving, losing, crying, homeless,
Families torn, bereft and lost
No more
Oh Lord

Is wasting, killing, spoiling, maiming,
Always has been, always will be,
Needless slaying, wasting all.
A man decrees he is all powerful,
A government say he cannot be,
And so they argue.
No more
Oh Lord

They argue, he argues, I am right you see
We fight, they fight - I see you disagree
Then see this, a bang, a cloud, a fire
Who then is right, nobody, no body indeed
More strife, no wife, no house, no life,
Oh Lord its not you
Its Man
No more, please no more
26. Naughty But Nice - anon

I’m feeling hot and bothered and just a little naughty,
I haven’t posted for a while, so have been rather faulty.
I have no personal interest in the following matters,
But would like to add some comment to rip some views to tatters.
The issue over dogs or rods in the local pond,
Is a matter to which I am personally not too fond.
Owners feel they have the right to let their canines stray,
To the detriment of the rod holders to ruin their fishing day.
Perhaps there is a solution, open you eyes and look around,
If no rod bearers are about, let you dogs go pond ward bound.
If rod bearers are present why risk and cause fuss,
After all they were there first, and you risk a jolly good cuss.
By way of an analogy, wait for a bus to go to the zoo,
Would you be very happy if a rod barer jumped the queue.
Now the lesson to be learnt from this, is to judge who was in place first,
Respect that person’s position, or risk being cursed.
There is of course no excuse, for swearing at any time,
Just have a mutual respect for each other and everything will be fine.
While on the topic of dog owners why is it always the case,
That they feel it perfectly acceptable to let dogs get in your face.
The large majority of owners seem perfectly at ease,
To let dogs jump up on folk, they think it is a wheez.
Perhaps I’m just a miserable one, or a fuddy duddy,
But personally I prefer to not get my trousers muddy.
The real thing that gets my goat about some dog owners and you will see,
Is they act as if they are responsible, then hang a bag full of crap in a tree.
Now some dog owners are just great and for you I have lots of respect,
But the majority are ignorant and lazy and they really should reflect.
The best solution I’ve read so far, is funny and it caused me to pause,
It was to attach a cattle prod to the owners genitals.
Another topic, which I’ve seen, concerns the water shortage drain,
I accept that not being able to use a hose can sometimes be a pain.
However, the point I fail to understand, is how we are being sold short,
My tap runs freely, my bucket fills; this is not too far from the service which I bought.
Finally on the matter of vandals, in the park they seem to be,
Where are the police, have they been informed, some one must see.
Report the little blighters, a lesson they must learn,
Treat the park with respect, the seating must not burn.
As already stated, my intention at the outset,
Is to be a little naughty, I am the Devils Advocate.
27. I'm no saint, Saint - Cleveland Gibson

Town Folk told how it came to pass,
St. Anthony strolled through fields of grass.
To him the tiger said with a ferocious grin,
Hairy lips quivered on a double chin.

“Women kill men with ugh! Warpaint
And I kill all but then I'm no saint, Saint .
“Females stick with their tuck and trim,
And men get fat away from the gym .

“Life to me is a kind of mess
So much like the jungle , I guess .”
The kind Saint stopped and gave a sigh,
Then his hand pointed up up into the sky.

The tiger looked way past the cloud,
At a cupid- bow hung like a shroud.
“Maybe that, that's what I love to see,
Juicy real red meat and forget the tea.

“So good to chew and chew, such a delight,
On a belle woman; she's a ravishing sight .
Yet, still I choke on powder and paint?
Driven to eat 'cause I'm no saint, Saint .”
28. Fond Memory - Christine Perreira

Oh with what fondness I look back
On all my years in Faringdon
Where children grew and all on track
For lives far flung, chasing the sun.
It is a wrench to move away,
Familiarity is dear.
And I am pressed so hard to stay
For reasons made so very clear
by loving friends I value so: -
Bluebells at Badbury in the spring,
The quaint old town, the endless flow
Of memories leaving will bring.
29. Thoughts Of Summer - Mary Maguigan

Spring was late this year
Then, suddenly, almost overnight,
Blue skies appeared
To fill us with delight.

In the square, people sitting,
Smiling, relaxing in the sun,
Mellowing in the summer air.

Do not let these moments pass,
For they are few and far between.
Walk out and take a chair,
Raise up your glass, and drink
To joy and friendship everywhere.
30. Old Faringdon In Summer - Sue Vassiliou

Oh summer sun,
You hid your rays
And made us wait
Through endless days.

Our springtime bulbs,
A month too late,
Bloomed shy and cold
Under skies of slate.

Then June arrived
And magic too,
As all our skies
Turned into blue.

Sun streaming yellow
On old stone mellow,
Warming our faces,
Lighting dark places.

How changed our lives
From drear to bright!
How well we feel
In summer’s light!

This ancient town
Just sits and dreams
When bathed and warmed
In golden beams.
31. Poor Little Beggar - Susannah Carter

Poor little beggar looking at me
his weak hands reaching for feed
watching us all with tears in his eyes
wishing that he, could have a good life

He sits and waits for hours on end
wishing he had money in the palm of his hands
all rolled up in a little ball
he tries to have shelter under the stall

With his ragged rug all torn and wet
he tries to cover his cold numb legs
blowing on his neck, with the warmth from his breath
surely his life was worse than death

I often passed him on my way
I never noticed him until one day
he layed there still with no movement of life
and all that was in his hands was a blood stained knife.
32. If I Was To Die. (for Children) - Susannah Carter

If i was to die i would come back as,
an elephant big strong and broad
i would rule the lands and travel the world
have a family of my own, oh what a lovely thought

If i was to die i would come back as
a monkey, small furry and inocent
climb all sorts of trees and be the king of the jungle, have a family of my own
oh what a lovely thought a thought

If i was to die i would come back as a crocidile
long and spikey and fast, i would swim the oceans and eat every day, have a family of my own
oh what a lovely thought a thought a thought

If i was to die i would come back as a giraffe all spotty, tall and thin
I would reach up to the tallest trees and eat all the leaves within, have a family of my own
oh what a lovely thought a thought a thought a thought

If i was to die i would come back as
my grandmother old and gentle and calm
I would love every one around me and not make a fuss, be happy and plasid, until i die
and then what do i come back as,
Well that's a thought a thought a thought a thought a thought

33. Love - Susannah Carter

What is love, what is loves meaning
is it for crying and
breaking peoples feelings
what is the meaning of love

Has love got a general meaning
has love got an actual feeling
what is the meaning what is the feeling
why did God create love
34. The thoughts of three year old - Susannah Carter

Mummy, why do you have long legs and i don't?
Mummy, why do you have long hair and i havn't?
Mummy, why are you old and i am young?
Mummy, why am i different WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Daddy, why do you work and i don't?
Daddy, why can you spell and i can't?
Daddy, why are you old and i am young?
Daddy, why am i different WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Granny? why are you tall and i am short?
Granny? why are you clever and i am not?
Granny? why are you old and i am young?
Granny? why am i different WHAT HAVE I DONE?
35. Whoopsed - David Parsons

My "sell by" date has come around,
I'm heading for a fall.
I'm being "whoopsed" and moved about,
My back's against the wall.

When I came in, all bright and new
I didn't cost the earth.
But someone said I'd had my time.
Now tell me what I'm worth.

My nutrients have not declined,
I still give satisfaction.
Can't I stay a few more days
and see a bit more action?

I'm moving to the corner fridge,
I'm half the price I was.
They've stuck a label on my front
Saying "whoopsed" because-

I'm out of date and out of luck,
My price is getting thinner.
Madam, stop, please take me home
And have me for your dinner.
36. Flop - David Parsons

To prove gravitational force
A student jumped from the White Horse.
What an awful great drop
Named the Uffington Flop,
The poor student succumbed in due course.
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