Poem from Queenstown I'm normally a social girl I love to meet my mates But lately with the virus here We can't go out the gates. You see, we are the 'oldies' now We need to stay inside If they haven't seen us for a while They'll think we've upped and died. They'll never know the things we did Before we got this old There wasn't any Facebook So not everything was told. We may seem sweet old ladies Who would never be uncouth But we grew up in the 60s - If you only knew the truth! There was sex and drugs and rock 'n roll The pill and miniskirts We smoked, we drank, we partied And were quite outrageous flirts. Then we settled down, got married And turned into someone's mum, Somebody's wife, then nana, Who on earth did we become? We didn't mind the change of pace Because our lives were full But to bury us before we're dead Is like a red rag to a bull! So here you find me stuck inside For 4 weeks, maybe more I finally found myself again Then I had to close the door! It didn't really bother me I'd while away the hour I'd bake for all the family But I've got no bloody flour! Now Netflix is just wonderful I like a gutsy thriller I'm swooning over Idris Or some random sexy killer. At least I've got a stash of booze For when I'm being idle There's wine and whiskey, even gin If I'm feeling suicidal! So let's all drink to lockdown To recovery and health And hope this bloody virus Doesn't decimate our wealth. We'll all get through the crisis And be back to join our mates Just hoping I'm not far too wide To fit through the flaming gates!
Verses for a Reverend There’s a Health Minister by the name of Clark Who’s obviously not a very bright spark Faced with a pandemic of epic proportions He instituted some rather hefty precautions Deciding to exempt himself from what he did preach He jumped in his van driving twenty k’s to the beach On arrival he enjoyed a leisurely walk in the sand An activity from which he’d had everyone banned As outdoor pursuits were what he did like He was soon back in the van plus mountain bike The vehicle was parked and left in full view Signage on the side giving more than a clue So it came to pass his misdeeds were exposed Everyone wondering, would he be deposed His boss appeared angry, faking fire like a dragon But as we suspected, kept him hitched to her wagon The moral of the story is practice what you preach Don’t go mountain biking and don’t go to the beach Unless you have a boss who, while saying it’s just not cricket Decides your punishment will be her usual wet bus ticket!
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