Friday 8 January 2021

Covid Lockdown Three

 


The World is all forlorn

As New Covid is born.

Time to frown,

We are getting locked down.

 

Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine

We hear your cavalry bugle call.

Vaccine, vaccine, vaccine, vaccine

If you don’t work, the writing’s on the wall.

 

So many dead, it’s hard to bear,

So much menace in the air.

Everyone tired of this stuff,

So many folk having it rough.

 

One Lockdown was very tough

Having three is more than enough.

Children getting schooled at home

By parents who are on the dole.

 

Americans fight amongst themselves,

Instead of putting food on the shelves.

Brits have been distracted by Brexit,

Arguably a mistimed exit.

 

Last March I asked

Will this last a year?

Well the time is coming –

It’s getting near.

 

That vaccine surely gives us hope

But where’s our second jab?

No more playing rope a dope,

This chance we have to grab.

 

No jab at all for me,

As I am sixty eight.

I’ll have to wait and see

But am prepared to wait.

 

Paul Butters

 

© PB 8\1\2021. First two lines by Norman Stevens.

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