The start of April 2020 has been tough.   But, April is National Poetry Month, and it’s worth celebrating.  Isn’t it?  We don’t have too many choices otherwise.

Could there ever be a better name for a poet than William Wordsworth?  Wordsworth, the old wordsmith, wrote: “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.”

We have lots of powerful feelings these days.  And, if you can keep your mind in a great place there is ample time for tranquility too.

With that as the backdrop, we present a poem so skillfully penned you would think it was carved from the edge of a surgeon’s scalpel.  It comes courtesy of an avid reader.

 

My Corona

 

We all had great jobs and unemployment was so low.

The market was way up, as we watched our retirement grow.

 

The U.S. was great again, and impeachment was a dud.

K.C. had won the Super Bowl, and Patrick Mahomes was a stud.

 

March Madness was starting.  Who would be king of the hoop?

Instantly, life changed when a Chinaman undercooked his bat soup.

 

But The Masters was starting soon.  We can’t miss Sunday’s back nine.

And baseball too?  But that’s America’s favorite pastime!

 

Social distancing is the CDC’s rule to observe.

All the models say we’ll flatten the curve.

 

What about Biden and Bernie and the democratic race?

6 feet apart, wear a mask and shelter in place

 

Corona is novel and like nothing we’ve ever seen.

Get in your house and serve a 14 day quarantine.

 

“Hydroxychloroquine and ZPak might help”, says the president.

Dr. Fauci says “No”, because there is no precedent.

 

Can’t we just try?  It might save our neck!

“No!”, says the Government.  We’ll send you a check.

 

Well done.  Bravo.  Amen.