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Wash your hands for twenty seconds,
After touching outside things.
Sluice your mitts with sanitiser,
Healthy lives such cleansing brings!
You all know what’s needing doing,
Otherwise we spread disease.
Utter disregard spells danger,
Reproduction rates won’t ease.
Have yourself a merry soaping!
Add clean water — don’t be tense!
Need we ask?
Don the mask!
Social distancing makes sense!
Acrostic coronaverse, brought to you by the letter W.
Online living during lockdown stasis,
Netflex ogling just to see real faces,
Logging on daily substitutes for contact,
Index fingers itching for some impact.
Nothing is the option now our living’s virtual;
Existing in a limbo seemingly perpetual.
Another sestain, an acrostic coronaverse, this time brought to your by the letter O
An acrostic coronaverse brought to you by the letter M.
or, Under the Surface
Dowdy. That’s how they describe me.
On the surface I’m nothing much to look at.
Nondescript is another word I’ve heard.
Terms like tatty, tawdry hurt.
Just what do they expect from me?
Uninteresting is their first response,
demeaning my essential self,
glancing once, ignoring twice,
each assuming that I’m lacking depth.
And yet, and yet.
Beneath my plain unvarnished outside,
overlooked by all and sundry, there reside
offerings of far more worth:
kindness, courage, human truths.
Between the sheets I proffer passion,
your senses driven to seventh heaven.
In my thoughts you’ll wander freely
thrilled by visions you’ve never imagined,
stimulated, challenged, even rewarded.
Can you guess now who I am?
Often people pass me by,
visiting a gaudy neighbour,
ever seeking good companionship,
realising – finally – it might be me.
Another homework exercise for a creative writing class
Spoiler alert: the form of this riddle is due to it being an acrostic