The spring was a ghost, as winter wither'd away.
The bird's song was vapid, the flowers awaited May.
Alone we all sat, windows locked and shutter'd,
afraid of our neighbours, our bread went unbutter'd.
All shopkeepers were closed, all kegs were untapped,
all music did cease, all performance unclapped.
Alone we all sat, doors closed and locked.
Our pantry's slowly dwindling, inadequately stocked.
All games were ended, all our works were halted.
All prayers were whispered, all hopes were exalted.
Alone we all sat, as the world slowly warmed,
the trees unpruned, ragged and deformed.
The gardens untilled, the boats tied to dock.
The productive were idle, the busy as rock.
Alone we all sat, avoiding the ravage
of an invisible foe, so vile and savage.
The streets were all empty, the pews were all bare.
The neighbours were treated only with what we could spare.
Alone we all sat, fearful and forlorn,
Locked in our homes, to weather this storm.
As the sun warms the airs, and the rains wet its feet,
The Oak reaches upwards as if heaven to meet.
Alone we all sat, uncertain and torn,
Our Solace unveiled by its wee acorn.
Poem About Hope During Covid-19 Pandemic
Acorn
©
Darren C. Mossman
Published by Family Friend Poems March 2020 with permission of the Author.
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