Money is such a dangerous motive,
to cheat people, even to murder them.
Greed, upon which it’s based, is corrosive.
Instead of good-heartedness, perversion.

There are scammers and tricksters and fraudsters.
They prey upon vulnerable people,
to rob from them, steal their cash resources.
Scoundrels, rascals, villains, too typical.

Even in this crisis in public health,
for some, stealing money is their main aim.
It is the way they accumulate wealth,
And in doing so, cause others’ much pain.

Phone and computer communication
to lie, fool, con, for money extraction.


The fear is worse than having the disease,
although that could kill me if I catch it.
Chance with it, though, for me, of a reprieve.
But death scare a perpetual habit.

And it gets intensified at this time;
seeing the numbers, hearing the warnings.
Waiting, expecting to fall sick sometime.
Subject to this ghastly form of haunting.

Recall saying, ‘the only thing to fear,
is fear itself’, but this fear pervasive.
With the plague near, ever closer to here,
it makes the anxiety invasive.

Yet must live with the possible horror
until, of survival, a bit surer.


My comfortable set-up jeopardised.
Before I realise, it come apart.
Illusion of permanence shown as lies.
And when it has stopped, it will not re-start.

It is as vulnerable as I am.
A lot that I have now will still exist,
but I will not have it to rely on,
or it me, ‘though I may well not be missed.

Currently utilise my arrangements.
They’re good for my individual needs.
For care to my loved one, too, they make sense.
They’re more like the river; we’re like the reeds.

Nothing lasts forever, though, there is change.
What comprised my set-up, be re-arranged.


It is a difficult situation.
Pain is existing beneath the surface.
Bombarded by fearful information.
To live through, there is no alternative.

Except there is, but that is death itself.
And I am not ready for that outcome.
I try to maintain, best I can, my health,
hoping, really hoping, I don’t succumb.

I stay well clear. I stay at a distance.
I keep at home, away from outsiders.
Seek to maintain physical resistance
in case get caught by virus providers.

Life, for now, full of awkward sensation.
It is a difficult situation.


What is the right time? Tend to say ‘never’.
But it will happen. It will be my turn.
After all, I cannot live forever.
To the ‘nothing’ I came from, will return.

“Not now”, I silently shout, but when then?
‘Then’ sounds about right. Into the future.
But ‘then’ at some point be ‘now’, can’t pretend.
Fate overrule my pleas, when it suits her.

I will, of course, do my best to survive.
But my death, I know, inevitable.
Hope when it’s the right time, I realise,
and not go protesting, maniacal.

The ‘right time’ then …now… gives me no pleasure.
But, whenever, ‘never’ won’t mean ‘never’.


Both the disease and reaction extreme.
The worst in living memory we’ve seen.
A pretty ugly malevolent dream,
but wake-up and it’s real, Covid-19.

That’s what the virus develops into.
The coronavirus is what I mean.
When the full-blown illness envelops you,
you’ll probably die from Covid-19.

For although it starts as symptoms of flu,
respiratory crisis it will bring.
And there’s no cure. Be lucky if get through,
because it’s a killer, Covid-19.

Life-crashing effect, not imagining.
Sharpened blade on the scythe, Covid-19.


Calling on my mum’s skills to help me out;
particularly household management.
Coping with the little she had about,
to put food on the table, half-decent.

But, significantly, to avoid waste.
To only get-in what going to use,
and use what have, like that jar of fish paste.
‘Eat up. Hungry elsewhere’, so no excuse.

In this lockdown, I have plenty in stock.
Sufficient for meals in the weeks’ ahead.
A few old favourites will have to stop,
but can work through cupboard items instead.

Will have to plan, I think, a bit better,
with mum’s influence in this endeavour.

Week 2
Week 4