Sorry, folks. We did our best, said he didn't have to, but he insisted. "I must," he said. "My public expects it. It's that time of the year when the paper's full of lists; Best Picture, Best Album, Top Ten News Stories, Psychic Predictions, Ken Ring's Bumper Book of Earthquake Forecasts and, of course, most important of all, Her Majesty's selection" - from which he was, again, explicably omitted.
So here it is, for better or worse, from the crusty quill of the extinguished poet laureate, Sir Jam Hipkins (honour pending), a seasonal selection he's called The New Year's Sonnets List, although, to be honest, the daft old codger wouldn't know a sonnet if it bit him on the verse.
He has had a crack at one this year, with assistance from his (formerly) devoted muse, Miss Epiphany Throbbe. Relations have been strained since she suggested he should write more often with invisible ink.
And so to the first of this year's oeuvre, recalling one of the great scientific debates of 2011 involving the racy behaviour of extremely tiny particles, as observed by the lords of this ring thing in Switzerland:
It's hard on the Hadron
To know when a neutron
Is travelling faster than light
In theory, it shouldn't
So, therefore, it wouldn't
But, then again, maybe it might.
And if light isn't all that it's cracked up to be
Then time may be wonky as well
And it could be
That M = E, don't you C
The scientists simply can't tell.
It's a question for which they've no answer
The boffins are all in the dark
Are we here? Are we not?
Working out which is what
Will not be a quark in the park.
And another cryptic fragment: