A friend sent us this poem in her Christmas card, and I thought others might enjoy sharing it….

…. and as its the last day of the year, perhaps a bit of levity and bleak humour is in place.

Lock-down Poetry – Anon

I won’t arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
I’ll sanitize 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 kitchen to the hall.

There’s a green-eyed yellow idol to the north of Katmandu;
But I shan’t be seeing him just yet and nor, I think, will you.

While 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,
Nor 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.

So no, I won’t be travelling much, within the realms of gold,
Or get me to a nunnery – all that’s been put on hold.

‘Give me your hand’ I shan’t request, albeit we are friends,
Nor come within a mile of you, until this virus ends.

Happy New year to you all.

The Watchnight service for tonight will be posted here and on Facebook this morning so that you can join it when it suits you.

Best wishes to you all

Ian