Poem 4 the plague

Last Call          March 15, 2020

The world is ending,

everyone is pretending,

they are ready for the fall.

The plague is coming,

media keeps on drumming,

buy sanitizer to save us all.

So if you start a coughing,

you may end up in a coffin,

dosent matter if your short or tall.

Wash your hands all day,

hear what the doctors say,

don’t hoard toilet paper in a ball.

Its the apocalypse now,

nobody seems to know how,

to react to the global panic call.

Put on a mask and coat,

maybe sacrifice a goat,

just be sure to use lots of Lysol.

The rules say we all have to wear masks now, when we go outside.
They were not very specific, were they?

Forest of Friday

Friday Night Wood                        March 2020

Trees looming large so massive and green.

They are the most graceful Iv ever seen.

Watch the moon clime as night creeps in around all.

Hear the stray cats strut and the murder of crows call.

Trees standing large so sturdy and strong.

Year after year they waited so long.

Swaying and creaking their leaves flap and flutter.

The woods wild with life not useless crap and clutter.