Lexin

A COVID LOCKDOWN POEM Author unknown

I won’t arise and go now, and go to Innisfree
I’ll sanitise the doorknob and make a cup of tea.-
I won’t go down to the sea again; I won’t go out at all,
I’ll wander lonely as a cloud from the kitchen to the hall.
There’s a green-eyed yellow monster to the North of Kathmandu
But I shan’t be seeing him just yet, and nor, I think will you.
While the dawn comes up like thunder on the road to Mandalay
I’ll make my bit of supper and eat it off a tray.
I shall not speed my bonnie boat across the sea to Skye,
Or take the rolling English road from Birmingham to Rye.
About the woodland, just right now, I am not free to go
To see the Keep Out posters or the cherry hung with snow
And no, I won’t be travelling much, within the realms of gold,
Or get me to Milford Haven. All that’s been put on hold.
Give me your hands, I shan’t request, albeit we are friends
Nor come within a mile of you, until this shit show ends.


I thought it rather funny, and I wish I'd found it sooner.

It's World Poetry Day

My favourite poem is this, though I doubt if the layout will show up properly.

The Garden of Proserpine

BY ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE

Here, where the world is quiet;
Here, where all trouble seems
Dead winds' and spent waves' riot
In doubtful dreams of dreams;
I watch the green field growing
For reaping folk and sowing,
For harvest-time and mowing,
A sleepy world of streams.
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