A Poem for Lockdown

 

 

Who knew that there would be a time

Of an early white spring in all its prime;

When sunbeams fell on empty fields

And silence cloaked the distant hills.

Where, in a shady woodland, spiked with green

A carpet of bluebells would bloom unseen.

Where time, so often snatched away

Would slow to the rhythm of a different day?

I watched the bold and fearless crow

Go black and shiny, to and fro,

Its rakish presence curiously noted

Although yesterday it flew unnoticed.

Toppling change sweeps ‘normal’ away;

Only necessary work now, and no outdoor play.

Selfless heroes put themselves on the line

Yet they have lives, like yours and mine.

So what happens to trinkets no longer desired,

And priceless pictures in galleries, once so admired?

Some things can stay behind closed doors

Until feet echo again on busy floors,

But empty arms have no-one to hold

And isolation takes its toll.

Now windows bright with rainbows are the new big thing;

They gladden our hearts with the hope that they bring,

And lockdown reveals to worried eyes

The blessed arch of infinite skies.

© Lyn Halvorsen