This is Poetry Week

Needs Must by Rick Haynes

(with apologies to all poets)

I entered the store

We needed much more

And I was a fool

For breaking the rule

My heart was thumping

My feet were jumping

From shelf to shelf

All by myself

Made way to the food

Stood, waited and queued

I filled up the trolley

Bumped and said sorry

Time now to go

The tills are so slow

Paid out the cash

And now to dash

The car is nearby

And I must fly

I sat and I cried

I hope I’ll survive

Now for the white mask

It’s such a big ask

The gloves are no more

And my throat so sore

Tomorrow will come

My plight just begun

The ambulance is here

The hospital is near

The end

Take care - be safe

You know it makes sense.

And now I delighted to showcase the work of a real poet.

I give you The Lockdown Blues by Richard Bunce

The Lockdown Blues

(with apologies to Lewis Carroll)

The walrus and the carpenter

were walking on the sands

they kept their distance, as they should,

and often washed their hands.

Good citizens, they followed all the

government demands.

"This virus is a beastly thing."

the carpenter remarked.

The walrus couldn't disagree

"You're right of course" he barked.

"If only we could have a beer

I wouldn't feel so narked."

The Rose and Crown was all locked up,

No customers allowed.

The beach cafe was looking sad,

without the usual crowd.

No surfers skimmed the briny deep,

or through the breakers ploughed.

The carpenter was self-employed.

His income had all vanished.

"I need to feed my family

My children are all famished."

His friend looked on in disbelief

"Your fears should all be banished."

The walrus tried to comfort him.

"With Universal Credit,

your family are provided for.

Apply! You won't regret it."

"But how am I to live till then,

It takes five weeks to get it.

The schools are closed, my kids are home,

they're driving me berserk,

I need to earn some money fast

I've got to find some work.

And I can't stand to watch

another politician smirk."

"The banks will help you with a loan,

if only you would ask.

You'll have to pay it back of course,

But that's an easy task."

The walrus twiddled his moustache

and re-arranged his mask.

"Or you could go and see the folk

at Citizens Advice.

I've heard they're very helpful

and they treat you really nice.

Request a food bank voucher

And you'll get a bag of rice."

The walrus saw their hour was up.

"Our exercise is done,

So now we must get home old chap,

I think you've caught the sun."

The carpenter said sulkily

"It wasn't that much fun".

"Don't be a gloomster, carpenter.

The spirit of the blitz

will see us through, believe me.

Remember that we're Brits!

And try and be less negative,

it's getting on my tits."

This time I showcase the work of a new poet, Anna G.

Home

Hemmed in by my threshold,

Into rooms safely sewn,

But still I keep saying

'I want to go home'.

Behind battened-down hatches,

Between walls of my own,

I'm well hidden, unbidden

And aching for home.

With my books and my pictures;

All the things that I chose

My head swims, unfamiliar,

And I want to go home.

I'm a coward, the first

To bemoan the unknown

This withdrawal should suit me

But I want to go home.

A poem in the style of Dr Zuess from Nav Logan - Is it Flu?

Is it a Flu? Or merely "Atchoo!" Is it a bug? Or do I just need a hug? Is it a cough, or am I just feeling rough? Am I under the weather? Feeling light as a feather? Or do I just have a sneeze? Excuse me please! I'm a little bit ill. I just need a pill. Slather me in Vicks, and i'll be over it quick.