A little humour

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“Go home, all ye of 70 plus! Go home, go home, without a fuss!
To mix with others is to seal your fate, Go home! Please, please self-isolate!”
At first I thought, “Well, what a wheeze! I can wear old clothes, have meals on knees, Read some books, watch DVD’s, clean the fridge, defrost the deep freeze.”

Forget the make-up, let the whiskers grow, retreat to the garden, some seeds to sow, Listen to music, relax indoors, no need to wash any dirty floors.

Buy food online, oh! What a drag! No delivery for weeks, not even one bag. No loo rolls, nothing but empty shelves, what greedy folk to help themselves! For months we are due to hibernate, as couch potatoes we’ll stagnate.
So let’s keep up our corresponding, and continue with our friendly bonding. The days are dragging slowly by and we’re only on day eight.
How many weeks or months to go whilst we self-isolate?
The virus casts its iron grip on those most unsuspecting.
Take care! Oh ye, who make a trip that friends you’re not infecting!
If the days seem long let’s make a pledge to bake our bread and grow some veg. In these hard times we must agree no need to have a spending spree.
Off to the moors to contemplate, to hear the curlew’s plaintive call,
The lapwing mewing to her mate, capturing me in her thrall.
We are entering now a danger zone, as folk refuse to stay at home.
We have been told, why won’t we listen to our scientists and politicians?
No pubs, no clubs, all sport is off lest we contract the deadly cough.
All schools and colleges can’t sustain our nation’s students who work in vain. No need to consult the diary as every page is appointment-free!
We must now reconstruct our days and change the nature of our ways.

And let us all, with one accord, give thanks to those who, praise the lord!

Devote their time and energy to save the sick, who could be you or me!