Poems & Virtual Pints
For the duration of the Covid-19 Restrictions we are in Actual Poems & Virtual Pints mode.
Below are the responses to our first challenge in this mode - 'Laugh at the Devil'
Home, Sweet Home
John Davies
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We don’t do any school runs at the break of day
This virus is so catching we have to stay away
The government has told us you need to isolate
Now what on earth will happen to the country-wide birthrate?
The kids all need amusing, what on earth to do?
The neighbours all around us have a similar problem too
We cannot go to see them it’s just not allowed
The parks are all locked up and we cannot form a crowd
We tried the home schooling which wasn’t that much fun
Then, we got a soaking when we went out for a run
We played a while with Lego, then we had a quiz
I let them style my hair and it set into a frizz
Baked ourselves a sponge cake, none left in the store
Came out like India Rubber, you could bounce it on the floor
Whose idea was it to have a pillow fight?
The room was filled with feathers like a snow storm in the night
The shops have all been emptied, all the shelves are bare
Delivery slots are all booked up, it’s just not bloomin’ fair
The toilet rolls have vanished someone bought the lot
A spending spree has hit us we’ve gone and lost the plot
The virus isn’t choosy even Boris has it now
He tried his best to carry on with sweat upon his brow
There is a way to beat it as long as you don’t roam
It can’t get through your doors and walls so simply stay at home!
A Light-Hearted Virus
Dominique Spearey
(With apologies to those for whom this is no joke)
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I turn the calendar to face the wall,
remove the clock, no more wake up call
and clean the car, inside and out
because there’ll be no more running about.
It’s such a relief to let yourself go.
Make up? Lipstick? Perfume? Well, no.
Grubby old joggers will do me just fine,
no more washing to put up on the line.
I leave off my watch, I can do as I please.
( That really wasn’t a cough or a sneeze.)
“Elderly people” can’t apply to me,
I’m as fit as a fiddle, it’s plain to see.
Sat on a bench overlooking the sea,
birdsong and breeze comforting me -
oh no! What’s that pong? It’s the dog poo bin,
overflowing with bags! A right smelly sin
on this beautiful morning so fresh and warm.
I walk on, it’s exercise, so what’s the harm?
Ahtishoo! Ahtishoo! It’s hay fever - atchoo-
hay fever, not virus, no it’s NOT an issue……
Covid 19
by Ann Voaden
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Covid - worse than the bovid
Mad Cow Disease
So please -
Do what is bidden
Avoid what may be hidden.
Keep us ALL safe and well.
Lockdown worldwide
And governments have tried
To guide us
With minimum rules and fuss.
Stay away from parks. trains and bus,
But many flout good commonsense.
Covid - worse than the bovid
Mad Cow Disease
So please -
Do what is right
By day and by night.
Help STOP the blight of this plague.
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Holidays - a Thing of the Past
by Jim Bartlett
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Some poetry reminded me
of holidays spent by the sea,
sunsoaked resorts on Turkish shore
of which we can partake no more,
of minarets where wails muezzin;
when rhyming that, this poet gets in
difficulties with his metre,
where femininity's a feature.
But, had he kept it masculine,
might not have got muezzin in.
Iambic Turkish dreams inspire
ghazals of Islam's call to prayer.
But, 'cause I'm rising se'nty nine.
in self is'lation I must rhyme.
Apostrophes here are a pity,
unnecessary were I eighty.
Cruise ships marooned, in ports confined,
and cancelled flights, an awful bind.
We can but dream of foreign lands.
Of holidays we've washed our hands!
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