Poetic Bladders

The latest in a series of spoof blog posts by the eccentric, outrageous yet always loveable Maggie Bladder-Warwick and her nearest and dearest.

As many of you know already, we Bladder-Warwicks are deep thinkers and steeped in culture.

And, as Cumbria is the land of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey, I have decided to launch the Bladder Hall Poetry Competition.

So get scribbling and send your entries to me, Maggie Bladder-Warwick at maggie@bladderpoems.com by 31 August 2026.

The entries can be on any topic whatsoever, except daffodils. No daffodils. In fact, any mention of daffs will result in instant disqualification.

And the most fabulous thing is that the first prize is a weekend here at Bladder Hall with us B-Ws!

And to give some inspiration, here are a few early entries:

In Praise of Totty Grunt-Wittering by Anon

There once was a top gal called Totty

Who many chaps thought was a hotty,

She’d mix you a drink

That’d turn your eyes pink

Then whack you quite hard on your…

Sheep by Douglas Bladder-Warwick

I wandered lonely as a shepherd

Who treks on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd

A host of Herdwick pedigrees

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Munching and farting in the breeze.

Oh to be Thin by Cissy Bigsby-Bumstead

I want to be slender,

How I wish to be trim,

But I don’t want to do

What makes people thin!

The Apron of Anarchy by Mrs Boothby

Housekeepers of England, heiresses of glory,

Heroines of buffet lunches cleaning the upper storey,

Rise up like lionesses after slumber,

Don’t take that message, forget their number,

Shake your apron to the floor,

Provide additional services no more,

‘What is freedom?’ I hear you cry,

Tell them to stuff their own game pie!

So, as you can see, the standard of entries is stratospherically high. But I look forward to reading yours very soon.

Until next time,

Maggie B-W.