Covid 19 Vaccination

“You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time”.

John Lydgate 1370-1450

Dance of Death - conceived in Mainz in 1450

This vaccination for Covid 19,

What does it do to you, what does it mean?

Is it, in fact, a strain of the truth drug?

Does it presage a permanent youth drug?

Can it mess with your head, posing the risk,

Of having your brain cells copied to disc?

Conspiracy theorists, who’ve had their say,

Claim that the vaccine corrupts DNA

And, in the hands of government backers,

Activates use of microchip trackers.

Loads of conflicting perspectives abound,

But I’m with the experts whose knowledge is sound,

Their vaccine’s brought hope to a discomposed nation,

Now, they’re battling to counter virus mutation,

It’s a no brainer, the answer is plain,

Weigh up the risks and consider the gain.

From reports on the vaccine, it can be adduced

That the virus’s potency’s vastly reduced.

And so, ‘carpe diem’ don’t hesitate,

Go get your vaccine before it’s too late.

Maggie Smart

Sonnet to Covid 19

Remember the bad old days when it seemed as though the virus was winning? Everyone was baffled and bewildered. Then came a chink of light and, more importantly, hope...

A Physician Wearing a Seventeenth Century Plague Preventive Costume

The Covid virus heaves a mighty breath,

Spreading terror, panic and confusion

It crudely spews its evil spores of death,

Which infest the land in wild profusion .

This monster knows no sea too deep to cross,

Nor mountain peak that is too high to scale,

It trades in heartbreak, trouble, pain and loss.

And preys upon the very old and frail.

We’ve employed all possible resources:

Lockdown, isolation, social distance,

Finally, the diabolic forces,

Meet with unassailable resistance.

We’ve been given hope and found salvation ,

With the rollout of a vaccination.

Maggie Smart

Sister Dolores

Sister Dolores was a nun, who was not much fun,

Nor was she very clever. However …

She could scare the living daylights out of the average child of three,

And back in 1951, that average child was me.

Mean Sister Dolores would pinch the ears and pull the hair,

Of any small person, who would actually dare,

To challenge her superiority or question her authority,

Even though the small person was clearly in the majority.

Wickeddy Baddy

One day, this evil nun caught me in the chapel, drinking holy water.

“I thought it would make me holy too, Sister.” I blubbed - but she gave me no quarter.

Now, there is nothing so terrifying, as everybody knew,

Than a nun suffused with anger, with her wimple all askew.

Her eyes aflame with fury, her face - six shades of red,

She grabbed my arm and cuffed me, several times around the head.

She hollered, screamed and bellowed, pinched my arms and tugged my hair,

And adding to my misery, she stood me on a chair.

So everybody could revile the ‘holy water thief’

The thing that got me through this, was the firm belief,

That there would be, beyond all doubt, comeuppance for this nun.

Once my mother got to know, what had been going on.

Sure enough, at home time, the events which then ensued,

Found my mother, barrelling in, in retributory mood.

Now, Sister Dolores was five foot ten, but you must understand,

Although my mother was five foot two, she had the upper hand.

She also had an umbrella, which she brandished in the air

Confronting Sister Dolores, she transfixed her with a glare.

For the next ten minutes, she endeavoured to explain,

What the consequence would be, if this occurred again.

Sporadically, with her umbrella, she would give the nun a poke.

Emphasising the importance of every word she spoke.

In conclusion, she suggested, that the nuns would all do well.

To imbibe some holy water to avoid the flames of hell.

Ever since that day, I’ve had, reason to rejoice,

For, no nun has ever touched me, nor even raised her voice.

As for the vile Delores, she has long since gone.

Though she’s no longer with us, her memory lingers on.

Maggie Smart