By Maggie Zolobajluk
Nowhere to be seen, was the man at the top.
His head just off the political chopping block.
Other issues had caught his eye,
So took no notice of the cry,
Of the Cummingstorm he took no heeding,
took no warning,
I’ll ignore it.
It will be OK.
I’ll stay at home with the baby.. ….. and play
Then I’ll fluff up my hair, stand there and say
“Don’t worry, its nothing, it will go away”.
When at last he spoke; He spoke with panache. He spoke with aplomb.
He said, “There’s nothing to fear from this Covid time bomb.”
Hands clasped open, punching the air.
In stark contrast to the stillness of his fluffy hair.
He spoke about community, with a smile stuck to his face.
Inside he was screaming,
“place this of out me let”
All the time blinking. . ., trying not to stare; all the time knowing,,
the cupboard was empty…. ……. The cupboard was bare.
So with the fluff of his hair, he waved a fluffed up plan,
A road map, he said, devised by me,, an intelligent man.
That plan my friends, alas to say, was not going to save the day.
As he’d plucked it from a tall black hat and
it was full of potholes of, shall we do this,
or shall we do that.
Then hands he shook and people he hugged,
but all the time, it was us that he mugged.
With that smile that hid the truth he was denying.
As our loved ones,
in their hundreds,,
Lockdown came but much too late.
To stop these deaths.
To close the gate.
As time went on his hair got thinner,
So he fluffed it more, then declared us the winner.
The R rate was down, we’ve won the day.
Let’s open up.
Let’s go eat.
So freedom came, at which we grasped.
we quickly forgot the recent past.
While thousands flocked to the sea,
thousands more took the knee.
We went out to play,
out to roam, not thinking of our safety, or what we brought home.
The festive seasons came and went.
Holiday times, such family events.
Variant, Mutation, Strain.
Definitions to me, that mean the same.
The virus, for its own benefit,
now much easier to transmit.
The virus spread, the virus grew,
The warnings ignored, Deja vu
It charged through the Shires and Kent
Spreading sickness and death where ever it went.
Thousands ill. Thousands dying. Thousands desolate. Thousands crying.
The situation we needed to restore
We’d left it too late,
To open the windows and shut the gate…….
..So today, He waved the plan, He punched the air,
After of course, a fluff of his hair.
With his grim affixed to his face.
He said, “Our investments paid off, we can get ahead; With apace.
The vaccine’s ready and here at last,
soon this will be in the distance.
Back to beginning.
Back once more,
back to sitting alone, behind my door
So its Back the plan.
The plan from the hat.
Still full of potholes of shall we do this, or shall we do that.
Remember when I told you way back in the day.
It will go away.