Applause, of course. It’s appreciation
for the front-line staff who are amazing.
Treating, caring, without hesitation.
Tackling the disease, with all guns blazing.

Well, with resources at their disposal,
which, princip’lly is themselves, actu’lly.
Sad losses but miracles overall.
All of the while risking their own safety.

So I am there clapping to say ‘thank you’.
We owe enormous debt of gratitude.
If we get through, you will have seen us through,
with your great work ethic and attitude.

Best of humanity. I’d say, its wealth,
those who care and look after all our health.


Bluebells in pleasing proliferation.
How sad that their display is being missed
by many locked in home isolation.
Probably unaware their show exists.

For this spring, they are largely unperturbed.
Few on foot are in their vicinity,
so can grow and propagate undisturbed.
Spreading, some places, like a vast blue sea.

But even in small clusters, worth seeing.
Some white bells appearing in addition.
A closer view could be got by kneeling.
To go and do that, a bold decision.

A community, then, in perspective.
To inhabit, bluebells imperative.


It is not all over. Far from the case.
The danger posed remains unabated.
The impact everywhere, in the face.
Only from very worst, mitigated.

The contagion still has its course to run.
Bring more crisis on an enormous scale.
Anyone may find their death yet to come.
For lots of those yet, what disease entail.

Economic turmoil, too, to play out.
For majority that likely awful.
And in politics, come a nasty clout,
as new fascist brutes oppressively rule.

A virus way beyond its health effect,
as into all our living, it infect.


It is with a heavy-heart I announce
the death of another virus victim.
The death toll of this disease mounts and mounts.
Many more to come, experts predicting.

This precious soul lost, was one that we knew.
For what they did for us, credit is due.
Regularly, we will remember you.
And now of course, but then too, say “thank you”.

In amongst those lonely, awful, last hours,
hope you were able to know you were loved.
Although in suffering, life’s sweetness sours,
it’s your glory alive, we will think of.

I’m not normally this sentimental,
but to the you we knew, deferential.

Week 7