It seems all is cold and bizarre,
Hidden and veiled in my shelter.
Voyages are cut short, alas,
Distress! Life’s on hold.
Oh, I miss the sunshine.
Beams of Marigolds in the leas,
The buds of Amaryllis in the parks.
Staying aloof from the streets,
The lockdown injunction proclaims;
Surely, I miss the sunshine.
The recipes of the plague microbe,
Genre and version of its incursion,
Grieves, tears and sorrow.
Its esoteric trip in our universe,
Makes me, I miss the sunshine.
Funfairs tardy, the summer’s dead.
Fear has become a meal.
Along the alleyway and communal,
Bulletins of the dreaded infection.
I miss the sunshine.
It appears too far away,
Pigeons perched on my window,
When would it comes home?
The cold night bites and so hurtful,
I miss the sunshine.
Don’t close your eyes on me
Sunshine, your love is sweet.
Let my blues be scrawny,
Drowsing in hallucination.
Oh! I still miss the sunshine.
Restricted into social distancing,
Days and nights slightly slip away.
Strange towards the crest, eccentrically,
Face mask, an added costume,
As it may be, I surely, miss the sunshine.
Still on COVID-19
Written by: Kolapo Abdul
kolapoems@gmail.com
April 28, 2020
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