poem covid19

(posts tagged)

Of Service And Sacrifice

They were called to serve,
Called to duty and to fate.
When times were better,
Caring corralled in exemplar.
They formed up Our Wall.

Then they were called
In times of great distress,
To further service.

They knew some would die.
Some scarcely their training having ended
Taking up their oaths,
As all who serve do,
Spoken out loud
Or sworn and kept inside.

Their names inscribed on plastic tags.
Each name starts a story
And most will go untold,
Of honour, bravery, service and kindness,
In the face of relentless threat.

Honoured heroes.
Some names now echo,
Printed, etched and engraved,
Filling the nation’s hearts.
Their sacrifices applauded
As those lost, are called
To higher service.

Isolated Together

These strong roots tap deep,
Birds, bees, flowers, sing,
Saturated stone
And dirt at wellsprings,
From where we all drink,
Whilst we stand alone.

Solum distance love,
Clamouring to touch,
But when cooling winds blow,
From our firm stance,
We must not catch.

Long black shadows form
From the midday light,
Tracking on the ground.
We’re not yet withering,
But harvest must come.

Loves lost,
We yearn for those holy places
Of ancient times:
Hilltops, Valleys, Rivers, Seas,
Tasted in dreams.

Yet still, we sing our stories,
From this splendid abandonment.
Others make glory,
And harvest the spent.

Our songs peel their endeavours,
Whilst we bask in the sun,
In isolation in homely surrounds,
We reach out to know we’re heard.

Each day dies
And cold comes.
In darkness,
We wait for the morning.

And the dawn will come,
And we will drink deep again,
And songs will be sung,
Together.