Sigmund sandy dreams
resolute mirthy incomes
tranquil playhouses
Adieu
Abschied
Proshchaniye
I have the dreaded Covid
I cough
I sneeze
Everything tastes bland
I can’t smell the flowers
Oh life
You’ve forsaken me again
With the borders closed
Houses locked down
I’m a prisoner
In my own death
He circles my bed
With his foul breath
His garbs
Of mystery and menace
Oh
Its just the plague doctor
Breathing gets harder
Even with the ventilator
That suck the life out
Then pushes it back in
Make up your mind
Stupid machine
Is it the black death?
Or bat death
Pass the point of caring
As I won’t be here
To write that poem
After the plague
If only
They did
What was done in old
To close the playhouses
After the first thirty
In one week
When even gods messenger
To call it time
Or stumps
Is caught in quarantine
I won’t get word
Of my impending death
Till long after
I’m laid to rest
William
sensitive, gentle, poetic, romantic
son, husband, father, grandfather
lover of the theatre, the Dark Lady, the Fair Youth
who feels empathy, jealousy, love
who fears the plague, empty playhouses, lovers' betrayal
who'd like to see his popularity, his undisturbed grave, true author recognition*
resident of London and Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire
Shakespeare
* some people believe that Shakespeare didn't write Shakespeare...LOL
written 29th January, for Constance's Writing Challenge 2 Bio Form contest
Oh, the stress-free, carefree world of children
O' take me back to the lil kids' playpen
When we tried on mom's cosmetics and lipsticks
and built playhouses with plastic blocks and bricks
And had fun with cooking set picnics
Anything could be a toy
and our racket could annoy
We turned everything into play things
We played pretend queens and kings
We then played 'mom and dad'
Oh the squealing fun we had!
Teasing, chasing hens and kittens
climbing the grumpy neighbour's fence.
There was paper airplanes
and frisking in the rains
Paper boats too were made
and hide'n'seek was played
And when that wasn't enough
we played blind man's bluff.
We nimbly climbed the trees
hair flailing in the breeze
But our child's play naturally mimicked the grownups
Lil plastic ones instead of real porcelain cups.
Life was all play and games
in our growing mental frames.
Sand castles and kites
childish fights and frights!
And kind parents just let them frisk and play
for all work and no play makes one a dull boy
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