Between the Wars

Indigo blue
Inky canvas
One eye open
The other protesting
The estate slumbers
Another day of lockdown
A neighbourhood painted
In shades of apathy
As the world mourns
Its sorry dead

Beryl wakes at the crow
Of the cockerel
Says hello to her husband
Enjoying a pint in Heaven
For the last twenty years
Says a prayer to the virgin Mary
And asks Jesus to save her soul
From the coronavirus
God is her insurance policy
As she ain’t finished yet
In this heathen world

It reminds her of the war
But the bombs don’t fall
And the men aren’t swallowed
Into certain suicide
She would cower inside the
Air raid shelter
As the Luftwaffe played
Russian roulette
Missiles raining down
Picking off saints and sinners alike
And she prayed to Jesus
And he did good

Now the bombs are silent
Yet the killer is stealth-like
Stealing souls
Like a pandemic shoplifter
Light fingered Kelly
Is in good company
Though I’m sure the virus
Ain’t interested in Maybelline
Or L’oreal

Churchill led the nation
Now we have the Tories
No let up from fear mongering
As the media perform
In their catastrophic circus
And the BBC peddle tragedy
Like Boris Johnson is MacBeth
Whilst the government deny
Their role
In digging mass graves
To herd the old
And vulnerable in

She tucks into her egg
And Tetley’s
Another day of inane daytime TV
She heard that people Facetime
But she has no tribe
Jesus is her saviour
And God is her father
And the Virgin Mary
Sheds a tear
For the children
She lost

©2020 Sarah Drury

Ghost Town

I live in Scunthorpe, quite a deprived little town, and the town centre is almost derelict as there are so many empty shops! I wrote this poem after a walk around town yesterday. Most video content is my own.

The Last Moment

Your hand in my hand
Like a reticent child putting on
Winter mittens
Made of old, weathered parchment.
Sitting here
Dying here
In this soulless intensive care department
As the sorrow cries
And tears so hot they’re dry
And fragile remnants of hope die
And like a bird
I want to fly
Far away
From here.
From here.

Is that your heart I hear?
Or is it some medical mechanism
I don’t know what’s louder
the life support technology
or the sterile lack of humanism.
But your hand is in my hand
You are mine
This cameo moment in time
This desperation on a lifeline
All those times I thought we’d be fine.
All those times
And we’re not, now.

But here we are
Saying our last goodbyes
The windows to your soul
Are sleeping, peaceful, closed
The eyes so blue
That used to shine in a brilliant, sapphire hue.
Do you dream, my darling?
Is your world filled with timeless memories?
Fleeting whispers of the things we used to do.
Or am I dreaming?
Am i holding onto you
When I know your soul is ready
drifting down the final avenue
drifting
drifting

So goodbye darling
I will let you go
Goodbye darling
Its time now
I know
I know
I know.

©2019 Sarah Drury