She lay awake for quite some time,
So much disturbed her sleep tonight,
Four kids, no school, more lockdown rules,
No work, no money, short of food.
Endless fears, tormented mind,
How would they cope, could they survive?
She tossed and turned poor worried head,
And still she lay alone in bed.
Downstairs a head more used to graft,
On building sites and council flats,
But all that ceased some time ago,
Since then its hand outs, no furlough.
He waits and waits for news of work,
In dribs and drabs, a shovel’s worth,
But still it’s welcome, cash is king,
Buys milk and bread and basic things.
It’s been like this for weeks and weeks,
Short of food and short of sleep,
Short of reasons left to smile,
No park, no pub, can’t go outside.
A shadow moves beside the bed,
A gentle hand holds harder flesh,
At least they both got through the day,
And fight they will to stay that way.
Covid weary, no news yet,
Tunnel? Light? Who dares to guess?
A covid war much like the blitz,
Well, we won that, and we’ll win this.
© Joseph G Dawson
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