A WORLD OF COVID

18,January,2021 by

A WORLD OF COVID

I'm a poet. I like writing
Of the loveliness of things.
But I've recently discovered
Ugliness, and what it brings.

I have found that, in a crisis,
(And we're in one. Have
no doubt),
There are those who have
no conscience
About spreading death
about.

OK, So those wielding power
Have made a mistake or
three.
But, believe me, they are
struggling
For the likes of you and
me.

Let's assume that we've all
got it,
And our loved ones have it
too.
What if, through our acts,
they're dying
While we party the night
through?

I'm a mother and grand-
mother,
Great-grandmother and
a wife.
I would turn the mountains
over
To give those I love a life.

In the Forties (long before
me),
Britain faced a different
foe.
People knew what side
they fought for.
How come now we do
not know?

It's so easy to go clapping
Our beleaguered NHS.
But we might as well be
trampling
On their grimly fought
success.

Probably you'll read this
poem,
If you look at it at all,
And think: 'It's my life. So
stuff it!'
Well, I guess, that is your
call.

But I'd like to think we're
better
Than the image we
project.
So I'm begging, show
compassion.
Be unselfish, care, protect.

BY
DARRYL ASHTON