‘Twas Not the Night Before Christmas

T’was a few hours before lockdown, when all through The Cave;

A misfit was writing, thinking of a Knave

Her Macbook was charging with fans a-whir

Knowing that tomorrow work still awaited her

Her thoughts raced quickly on a track of their own;

She felt a foreboding about being alone;

Interesting times we’re living in, the whole wide world,

Much time we’ll be spending in bed, upcurled,

Thinking of life as it was before the virus,

No, my darling, COVID! Not meningitis.

An essence of fear hangs in the air,

We’ve a way to go, but we shall get there.

Our streets will be quieter with no cars on the road

Nature will heal and you’ll hear the call of a toad

Smile, because when confinement is over

You will appreciate everything, even a tiny clover

Lockdown’s a sacrifice, that feels unfair and untrue

But Cyril’s done it, for me and for you.

Be a good citizen now, don’t move around,

For if you do, you may be jailed to sleep on the ground.

Now, COLLEAGUES! now, NEIGHBOURS! now, FAMILY and FRIENDS!

In, HOUSEHOLDS! in, SHACKS! in, FLATS and BEDS!

Remain indoors between the walls! read a book if you so feel!

Don’t go out! stay at home! That’s the deal!

It’s 21 days, and yes they’ll be long,

But when you feel morbid, sing a song.

Lockdown your loved ones, don’t social, or mill

BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T, CORONA WILL KILL!

Copyright: Priscilla Fick