Stay Home Save Lives
It was the twelfth month.
Thousands had succumbed
Thousands upon thousands
Frantic for breath
In hygienic hospitals
Hidden from public view.
All had loved ones
And things still left to do.
We cowered inside
Peering through blinds
Attempting to hide
From the spectre that stalked
Streets far and wide
Seeking the unwary
Incessantly scary -
Envoy of death.
Lost months of lamenting,
Church bells unrelenting.
Masked men with eyes like reptiles
Seeking solace and cider
As dread spread wider
Like a river that has burst its banks.
And we gave thanks
Excellent poem for our time YP. I particularly like the last verse.ReplyDelete
Thanks for reading it Dave.Delete
That second verse describes perfectly how we felt during our lockdown here.ReplyDelete
I am glad that it meant something to you JayCee.Delete
In a hundred years from now, people will read that poem and see how it was.ReplyDelete
Thank you for reading it ADDY. I was trying to capture something of this moment in time.Delete
David Icke should have been arrested last September for inciting public sedition in Trafalgar Square. On two occasions.ReplyDelete
Icke is an applause junkie with the brains of 3 mice.
He has fanned the flames of this social psychosis, which has led to our wonderful nurses being attacked as they leave hospital after long shifts.
Why are there so many fruit loops around?
I blame Margaret Thatcher but I admit that I blame her for most of our ills.Delete
We can all relate to that - even with our own interpretation of the last few lines.ReplyDelete
I am gratified that you have reflected on this poem as intelligently as you always do Graham.Delete
Keep on writing poetry. This says a lot about how covid lives with us, controls us and sets the rules.ReplyDelete
I wanted to capture some of the feeling of these times.Delete
Well done at expressing fear.ReplyDelete
BOOOOOO! (See how I scared you Andrew!)Delete
It does wield a great deal of control, right now but we are still able to celebrate. Thank you for the opportunity to celebrate the joy in your corner of the world.ReplyDelete
Are you referring to the grandbaby? Yes. Joyful light in the middle of this nightmare.Delete
Excellent poem YP. We can just hope that you won't need to write something in a similar vein this time next year.ReplyDelete
For the moment most certainly, Covid is controlling us and not the other way round. We can only long for the day when it's all a distant nightmare.
When you are in the middle of something it is hard to see how it might affect you in the long term.Delete