For Covid’s sake, a spring procrastination and shopping poem.
Pleased to say nothing much
is going on here in these tetchy,
dodg’em Covid days. So while I might
be quite contrary, I am certain I shall not
be overcome by questions on epidemiology.
Let me explain.
Gradual easing is plainly understood
by those who don their masks
for common good. Postal workers, help me,
please, for I need you to stay thus
Covid-free. For me, for you and family,
for your dog, and to help our gardens grow.
This is not some doggone conspiracy.
No time to sit back and relax. On the contrary.
it’s time to work, work, work – mask in hand
or under nose. Spring is here
and I’m all fired up to shop, shop, shop
for fabric samples for testing dyes
extracted from the most luxuriant blooms
of Bob Hope’s stunning bumper crop.
That’s how it is and how it should be.
Except for the mask bit.
The mask goes on your bloomin’ face.
Covers your mouth and your nose.
Uncomplicated, simple, not a joke.
My Camellia japonica “Bob Hope” has been flowering now for two months. I really should try to make some fabric dye, if only I knew how. Boil up some camellia leaves with salt, chuck in an old T-shirt. How difficult can it be?
Stay safe, stay sane or write some truly awful poetry.