by Anon of Cowie
When Corona virus hits the street
And friends and neighbours canna meet,
When market days are nae more
When naebody’s allood through yer door.
Whilst we sit boozing at oor hames
Getting foo whilst playing games,
Some on tables, some on boards
Whilst thoosands end up in the wards.
And at they Holyrood, e’en on Sundays
We hear auld Sturgeon cancelling fundays.
She prophesied that late or soon
We’d all be told to stay locked doon.
An affa lot ignored her summons
Including Willie and Dominic Cummings.
But pleasures are like poppies shed,
You catch the bug – end up in bed
Or like the snowfall in a river
First nae smell then start to shiver.
Or like the rainbow’s lovely form
Yer tastebuds vanish in the storm
Or like the Borealis race
The virus spreads and picks up pace.
Nae man can tether time nor tide
The hour approacheth, Nicola must decide
The hour that we are waiting for
A vaccine invite comes thru the door.
So do thy speediest upmost Nic
And win the race to cure the sick.
Then all Scotland will be covid free
A place where we all want to be.
Now far this tale o truth shall read
Ilk man and mother’s son tak heed
When ere to mix you are inclined
Or have a perty on yer mind,
Think ye may buy these joys o’er deer
Remember covid is affa severe
This thing that’s done us so much herm
Will be beaten with a jab in the erm.