Corona Viriad 2
This Poetry Month, look no further than John Carr, Insider’s in-house bard, for curative metaphors and imagery.
Sing, Muse, of the pestilence
That out of China hastened hence,
Attacking all, both young and old
Who thought they had just caught a cold.
Yet it turned out to be much worse,
A veritable viral curse
That has us all shut in our cells
As outside toll the mournful bells.
It is a tale of gloom and woe,
Just like the plagues of long ago
We read about in history tomes
Yet never imagined it in our homes.
But from the sunny land of Greece
Came Kyriakos (may his tribe increase)
Who fixing us with beady eyes
Said “Folks, we need to sacrifice
All our jolly taverna nights.”
Replacing them with family fights
As we’re all forced to stay at home
And never on the outside roam,
In case perchance we are stuck down
By Covid 19 lurking aroun’.
This pesky Covid, deadly small,
Slows civilization to a crawl.
But Nemesis could be at hand
As Donald Trump rouses his land
To battle this insidious foe
(We’re not talking of Biden, no)
And make sure this Wuhan death
Never again poisons our breath.
So until then we can but dream
Of summer, when it all will seem
A nightmare past, and we can flock
To pubs and bars and drink the stock
To render happy all our days
And go back to our bad old ways.
