by Alicia Beckwith
“COVID 19 – GOODBYE”
Here I am again writing lines
In these Corona – 19 times
Thinking of friends afar
I’d usually visit by car.
Wear your mask now full time
Not to do so is a crime.
It won’t last forever they say,
So hold tight and count the days.
Give your neighbor a call to say
“Hi, I’m thinkin’ of you today!”
Go ahead, give someone a ring.
“I’m goin’ shopping; need anything?”
Soon we’ll be able to venture out.
That’ll quench our social drought.
Shops will be able to open their doors
Get rid of cobwebs, sweep the floors.
Restaurants will welcome us back
Preparing eggs and flap jacks.
Hairdressers will get the run
Of women to get their hair done.
Sun’s coming out to warm our day
Bringing us into the month of May
When most will be back to normal
When we don’t have to be ‘Corona formal’.
So, hang on folks out there,
We’ll be able to share the air.
The 6’ space will disappear
Finally dispelling the fear.
Wait it out, that time’s near.
Go out in the yard and cheer!
Take off the mask, time’s drawing neigh
When we say, “Covid – 19, GOODBYE!”
It is a very lonely person
Who writes telling of the heart.
It is a very sad person
When he just can’t start.
Inside the spirit is bound
The soul’s words cannot be found.
Only with paper and pen,
then, and only then
can his mind pour out all,
let the inhibitions fall
Cast the fears aside.
No longer need to hide.
Then he can take his pen and start
to tell of a sad and lonely heart.
SWEET PEAS OF SUMMER
Sweet Peas of summer
are popping out pink and white
ever so bright
shouting with summer’s glee,
“Come out, come out,
come and dance with me,”
as winds gently blow
tossing and turning
blossoms from head to toe.
Sitting here waiting for smugness
to switch to business
is trying my patience!
Blueness to blackness
grayness right on to
why, to business!
Laws upon endless laws
regulations with and without flaws.
Wrenches in the pocket
Brought front to docket.
Questions and answers?
Answers to questions?
Statements and suggestions?
Suggestions right back to questions!
Is so unseasoning
In this mode of long term care
where it truly is a DARE
to give love and care.
“HI, HOW ARE YOU?” YOU ASK —–
“Hi!, How are you”, you ask.
But you don’t wait for an answer
as you rush through your agenda
pat me on the back then rush away.
“How are you?”
You really want to know?
I doubt it – it’s just a button you push
when you don’t know what else to say.
Sales clerks, car salesmen and, well everyone ask this question.
Most without a hesitation of politeness.
Most everyone continues to talk right after asking.
Why do we do this?
Why are we so artificial, not really caring
to talk to the other person for just a real minute?
Why don’t we care anymore?
Don’t we have feelings anymore?
Can’t we stop to really talk?
Really listen, and then speak –
Let them know we’re interested,
so the they know we care?
What has happened to our society
where we give this perfunctory greeting
then rush on not letting the other person reply?
It just doesn’t mean a thing ———————————-anymore.
Hey politics man,
how does it feel
to go on with your plan
pretending you’re real?
Hey elected man there,
do you really see?
Do you really care
‘bout your fellow man and me?
Line your pockets, right?
Turn the other way?
Budget too tight?
Well, just vote NAY!
Remember promises you made
on Embargo? Tariff or trade?
You broke them on whim,
your goal just to “win!”
Open your eyes real wide!
Stop trying your secrets to hide!
Listen to your constituants, please!
Stop acting the sleaze!
I heard a stream nearby the covered bridge
as it ran into the old stony ridge.
It babbled along on its merry way
on that bright warm sunny day.
It seemed to sing as the water danced.
It bounced along and seemed to prance
over tall boulders so shiney and wet
rushing on its journey, and yet…..
A melody came forth from its force and softly sang
as its bubbly voice over rocks it rang.
A melody beautiful and sweet
notes to my ears rose up to meet.
A lullaby for all to hear
as I walked over to be near.
Listen to the tune it does sing
making sweet memories there to ring.
Next time you hear a brook
go closer to take a look.
Close your eyes, and quietly wait and see
what the lullaby has said to me.
Alicia Beckwith is a local poet and has been writing poetry for four decades. Her poems have been published in book collections and magazines.