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
Raided supermarkets
Seeking solace and cider
As dread spread wider
Like a river that has burst its banks.
And we gave thanks
For life.
Excellent poem for our time YP. I particularly like the last verse.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading it Dave.
DeleteThat second verse describes perfectly how we felt during our lockdown here.
ReplyDeleteI am glad that it meant something to you JayCee.
DeleteIn a hundred years from now, people will read that poem and see how it was.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading it ADDY. I was trying to capture something of this moment in time.
DeleteDavid Icke should have been arrested last September for inciting public sedition in Trafalgar Square. On two occasions.
ReplyDeleteIcke 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.
DeleteWe can all relate to that - even with our own interpretation of the last few lines.
ReplyDeleteI am gratified that you have reflected on this poem as intelligently as you always do Graham.
DeleteKeep on writing poetry. This says a lot about how covid lives with us, controls us and sets the rules.
ReplyDeleteI wanted to capture some of the feeling of these times.
DeleteWell done at expressing fear.
ReplyDeleteBOOOOOO! (See how I scared you Andrew!)
DeleteIt 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.
ReplyDeleteAre you referring to the grandbaby? Yes. Joyful light in the middle of this nightmare.
DeleteExcellent poem YP. We can just hope that you won't need to write something in a similar vein this time next year.
ReplyDeleteFor 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.
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