Pandemic dreams. Six and a half poems by Anne Watkin

Pandemic Stream
Streams and dreams and such extremes
of fleeing ,seeing and of being.
Missing kissing and dismissing
fears and tears and whole careers .
Heady , steady and already
guestless restless sometimes stressless ;
sometimes stressed. Impressed undressed ,
bounded , grounded and surrounded
by yen and zen and when And then
debate our fate .But we must wait
for cure .Unsure we must endure.

Detained restrained and so confined,
yet free from all the ties that bind
me to the crazy noisy mind
that made me almost deaf and blind
to a need to simply seek and find
a way to leave the trite behind
to reconnect with human kind
and take more time and then remind
myself that I am not designed
to surrender to the daily grind
where all my thoughts and acts are timed

A New Order
Friendships wither unsustained ;
exposing all the false and feigned .
Baseless bonds are easily strained
and all that’s shallow has just waned .
But in the chaos , unexplained
other ties have been maintained .
And when resources seem so drained
new supports have been attained

Pandemic Love
Or Ode to LouiseAnne

She’s due to fall in love again
but doesn’t look look the part .
She says she feels unkempt but then
she wants to give her heart .
to one who sees her naked soul
and takes her as she is
without the lipstick or the kohl
And when her hair is frizz .
She can’t go to the mall or pub
or book to see to see a play
And no chance she can find a club
or visit for the day
No hair or nails can be maintained
No spa or gym or yoga class
No fake tan so she’s looking drained
She cannot even go to mass.
On Facebook instagram and zoom
With tinder checks and online dates
On every possible chat room
She searches for soul mates.
Then after a glass of wine or five
She thinks she’s found a way at last
she grabs her phone and starts the dive
Into the numbers of her past

Pandemic Pleasures
Waking early slow to move.
Trying to get into my groove .
Greeting from my lazy bed
‘cos rest is best when all is said.
No zoom or FaceTime yet for me
As hair and face not fit to see.
Then up and on my exercise bike
I’m not allowed to do a hike .
As if is I would :you know I wouldn’t .
Is it wine time yet oh no I shouldn’t .
To the garden next to sow some seeds
To hell with that , too many weeds .
I think I’ll just sit in the sun
and have another current bun.
Well omg is that the time .
Its lunchtime now and time for wine.
Then need to call a friend or two.
What else am I supposed to do .
Then suddenly it almost six .
Time for that new cocktail mix
and lots yummy food for dinner
Now do you think I’m getting slimmer !
Then time to enter zoom and chat
It’s Face to face with yoga mat .
It’s nightcap time and then to bed
Before I wreck my fucking head.

Pandemic Partner

I hate your mouth hate your face
And most of all I hate your nose
You’re simply lacking any grace
And why I’m here God only knows

You grunt by day and snore by night
You lose your glasses and your phone
You always think you are so right
And drone on in that monotone
( to be completed when I’m liking you more )

Pandemic Dreams
May angels wrap you in their wings
And guide your dreams to all the things
That your sweet heart desires to see
And every place you’d like to be .
To rivers lakes and streams and seas
and mountains ,valleys hills and trees
To hero’s , shining knights and princes
To love and hope and hugs and kisses


Visit Anne on Instagram.

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