THE prestigious title of ‘bard of the Forest’ was awarded to Ann Osley on Saturday at the annual Forest Faddle, which took place at College Theatre, Five Acres.

Ann’s winning poem This byunt no voul joke won the adult category while the title of junior

bard was awarded to Emelie Revens of Blakeney School for her poem Leave our Forest be. Runner-up in the junior competition was Nuala Callanan of Lea Church of England School with A Forest Poem. 

Organiser Keith Morgan said: “Topping the bill at the event were special guests Hereford Police Male Choir. Local favourite Dick Brice entertained with his own brand of songs and Forest humour once again and, in keeping with the brass band traditions of the Forest, A Blast of Brass made another Faddle appearance.

“Sophie Cotterell from Sling was another star attraction. She has been singing since she was 10 years-old, and performed at Open Mic UK 2010 where she reached the semi-finals,” Keith added.

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Leave our forest be!

Please don’t frack our forest

Leave our forest be

Leave our forest at its best

It’s a special part of me.

Please don’t dig a quarry

Leave our forest be

Don’t create pain and worry

It’s a special part of me.

Don’t let our creatures stir

Leave our forest be

Let’s all work together

It’s a special part of you and me

– Emelie Revens,

aged 11, Blakeney School.

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This byunt no voul joke!

I wuz in the owd back gyardun

On me backside I did zit

Thik zun wuz shinin’ down on I

As I restid up me vit

Smell them zummer vlowers

Zurry, with I all wuz well

Nuthin’ in me yud owd butt

Well - ver as I cud tell

Then I yeard this tappin’

Twuz down there by me vit

I’d got a drop uv owd moyd wine

An I’d owny drunk a bit

I didn’ believe whot I did zee

A chickin drinkin’ me glass a wine

Ow lung ‘ad ‘er bin a zuppin’ it

Dowt ‘er cud walk a line

I shuved me vut b’hind ‘er

Then I’d get zum peace n’ quiet

But no thik voul wuzn gooin’ mynd

Well, not we out a riot

‘Er wobbled an ‘er tottered zurry

Thik ‘en ‘ouse ver down th’ gyarden path

‘Er yud wuz skewed - ‘er vit wuz crossed

‘Er gid I quite a laff

Zo I carried ‘er back ta thik ‘en ‘ous

Ta zleep of ‘er pilfered tipple

Zurry, I wunder if ‘er loys an egg

Will it be a razzbree ripple?

I spect ‘er’ll ‘ave a yudache

When thik cock - at vust lite - da crow

Now ‘er noes th’ peckin’ order

An’ on thik wagun ‘er must go – Ann Osley.