Poems are the theme this week.

Hello everyone, I do hope you are well in such difficult times. But remember - live - laugh - love goes a long way. Take care now.

THE LAST IN LINE by Rick Haynes

Things ain’t what they used to be,

for the worlds gone mad, you see.

So many people now stuck indoors,

washing dishes and constantly bored.

The roads are empty, no cars around.

Can you hear the birds, the only sound?

I hear a van it’s coming near,

but no groceries for me, I fear.

I may be old and on my last legs,

but the stores ignore, even my begs.

Their computers say who needs the most,

but I’m waiting for god, or is it a ghost?

It’s part of the fear I hate so much,

along with the worry, to reach and touch.

The families nearby are trying so hard,

to keep their young, amused in the yard.

I hear their laughter and see their smile,

I stand and listen, eagerly for a while.

And then I return to my very nice home,

but I really hate, always being alone.

The TV presenter hits out at the mess,

more PPE needed, to cut out the stress.

I think that I need a large tot of rum,

to make me relax and warm my tum.

My doorbell rings, who can it be?

I limp to the door to open and see.

A tall man is holding a very big bag,

so full of food it’s starting to sag.

His wife appears along with their kids,

they wanted to see, to help out at Sids.

I now have their number beside my chair,

and they want me to ring if I need any care.

And so I can smile, it’s been a long time,

for now I’ll never be, the last one in-line.

Shopping by David Owen

Lining up with a trolley in a supermarket stall,

Has never really seemed to me like having a great ball.

Tomatoes to the left of us and tin cans to the right,

And toilet rolls just recently… well, they just caused a fight.

But a kind of peace has now emerged as we all beat a retreat,

And from behind closed doors we now anxiously compete

With Sainsbury’s, Tesco, Asda and Waitrose to allot

That seemingly invisible, unobtainable, shopping slot.

Don’t go there! They all shout – you’re too old for that,

Staying home is now required and what it’s all about.

And so we sit goggle-eyed, trying hard with the I.T.

Alas, today it seems that it’s simply not to be

They all got there before us, whilst working in close teams

Sowing up all that’s available, with the finest of fine seams.

Log in said Morrison’s, a password gets you there

And lo! We see a miracle. The cupboard is not bare.

There’s milk and apples, turnips too! And baked beans by the score.

Yes! Toilet rolls and bars of soap; just click, click, more and more.

When’s it coming? Oh four days’ time. We’ll be O.K. ‘till then

We’ve still got some U.H.T. in store, contained in packs of ten.

Then as per our tight schedule, we see the van arrive

Nonchalantly reversing, slowly up the drive.

Multiple bags of this and that, provisions by the score

Stacking endless piles of them, delivered to the door.

‘Will he ever stop?’ I was inclined to say

And where do you think we’re putting it, just where will it now stay?

Under beds, in dark corners and neglected cubbyholes

On upper shelves – positioned thus, carefully in bowls.

To coin a phrase, well, it would seem that we have over cooked

And items that were still in place we’ve somewhat overlooked,

Thus, repeating on our list that we were then recording,

It seems perhaps that we have done a little bit of hoarding.

Yet three weeks on, ne’er once a slot, it’s all looking now quite worrying

Even when, with chiseled knives in the chest freezer I’d gone quarrying.

Promises from local stores never once did they materialise.

And as we narrow down our stock it’s difficult to compromise.

So every day, I try them all. You could say I am persistent

And their ‘nothing doing’ message is at least always consistent.

But anyway, one commodity in abundance gives satisfaction,

Looking for a new toilet roll, will never again be a distraction!

A tribute to a veteran by Rosemary Dight.

Ground Control to Captain Tom

Ground control to Captain Tom Time to get your walker out and pin your medals on. One hundred years you've walked this earth, seen mankind at its very worst. You've done your duty, done your best, in every sense you've earned a time to rest. Then one more time you heard the call, Covad-19 had our backs against the wall. The NHS was under threat, it needed all the help it could get. So you set out to walk your garden path, One circuit for each year of your life. Your goal to raise one thousand pounds and help the health service make its rounds. You set the country's hearts alight, so many people joined you in the fight. Millions flowed into the coffers, Then Michael Ball came with an offer. Your song became a number one, an anthem that would be sung on every radio throughout the world. Ground Control to Captain Tom You turned our darkness into light You gave us courage to resume the fight. You didn't seek for fortune or for fame, But now we never will forget your name.