Song:
(C) Jilly Funnel
(C) John Morgan
If I die
Tell me why
It had to be
Corona-Vi.
Why not something
With street cred
To lay me low and leave me dead?
Why not living
Fast & free
Leave the road uncarefully?
Why not jumping
From a plane
My parachute shot down in flames?
Why not sinking
In the sea
On the Ark Royal or Victory?
None of these
That took my life -
Corona-Vi has plunged the knife!
(C) IMB
The dragon’s roar echoes from an airport Over the hills beyond and through blue air To this quiet garden where I sit and stare Addictively at apps like someone caught In a maelstrom, the cyclone’s sin
I walked with William Butler Yeats Among the children at my school And heard them tell of unfamiliar days And watched them run and play and fall At sixty now my beard is grey And all my knowledge wash
I lay on the lawn looking up at the wide blue sky. My skin was in need of sun. The late spring had been unusually hot and the garden needed rain, desperately. The sky was cloudless and without trace