A Strange Plague. A poem by Francis Edwards

A strange plague this virus
Where are the rats? There should be rats
Infested with fleas spreading the disease
In our sewers, streets and lanes
Along the canals and rivers
Can we not have an honest plague?
With all the fetid trappings;
A comet to prophesy our doom
Bodies burning in the streets
Mourning wails from houses of the afflicted
Sound of children’s dark games and rhymes
Ring around the rosie, pocketful of posies
Ashes, ashes, you know the rest
Something isn’t right with this virus
It isn’t adding up
My nose is telling me I smell a rat
There must be a rat
I just can’t find it


Francis Xavier Edwards is a musician and songwriter and occasional poet who has lived and travelled in more than thirty countries. Inspired by the poetry scene in Galway, he has dedicated himself to further develop his writing and share in the joy of poetry so evident in the region. He currently bases himself between Galway and Jutland, Denmark.

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