Lockdown Poetry by Eula Harrison

Covid-19
A cry went out throughout our land,
Stay at home and wash your hands.
A fearful invader has arrived.
Travelling far from a secretive land.
Where it did an awful wallow,
Destroying its inhabitants,
With many more to follow.
Leaving behind a land in fear,
This fearful entity Coronavirus.
Having taken hold of many other countries,
Leaving disaster in its wake.

Our government meet,
Discussions daily they repeat.
We are facing an enemy we don’t understand,
Stay at home, isolate and wash your hands.

Only underneath a microscope,
Can this virus be seen.
This fearful foe,
How can anyone know,
If it’s near to them or far?

The first warnings was for the elderly:
Stay indoors, isolate, wash your hands.
In them you hold your fate,
The lockdown is now for everyone.
We all have to learn,
How to be self-entertaining,
While isolating.

Whatever you do,
Keep connected,
Keep smiling.

Prisoner of Virus
When a once-happy home becomes a war zone,
No more a home, but a prison.
When afraid of making a comment,
Or having an opinion of your own.

You emerge from your home,
With a smile on your face,
White lace curtains at the windows,
And a highly polished front door.
No one would know,
The bruises doesn’t show.

In prisons like these,
Self-doubt and low self esteem breeds.
When your bed is not the comfortable,
Welcoming place it should be.
But likened more to a wrestling ring,
Without protective bars or rules.

Of the so-called winners of these bouts,
Are they feeling triumphant?
Or the heartless self-satisfied abuser.
Seeing a bruised and battered opponent flake away,
To the warmth of the shower which helps stifle,
The sobs of sorrow and shame.

When children cower in a corner or cupboard,
Hands covering their head and ears,
Fearful for your life and theirs.
You making excuses for the bruises you bear,
And the door of the cupboard takes the blame,
You are a surely a prisoner of not one virus, but two.

Photo by Leticia Valverdes

Not Lonely or Bored
Often I am asked if I get bored,
Being isolated on my own.
My answer is a definite no.
I don’t identify with that word.

There are hundreds of others around,
All undergoing the same lock down.
I have made no special plans,
But I’ll do the best I can.

I’ll focus on the things that are real,
Try not to get lost in daydreams.
Or losing sight of what’s reality,
For if I do, I’ll pay a heavy penalty.

I gave a wave to those on balconies,
A small comfort to someone,
Who may be not connected to their neighbours,
Now feeling the pressure of isolation.
Maybe they have no friends or relations.

In the garden, there are things that I can do.
Say hello to neighbours across the fence.
Remembering to keep at arms length.
Potter a bit, take a stretch to keep fit.
Discussing the news and the virus,
Is a taboo among the flowers.