CELIA'S POEMS

No 183     September 16

 

When I said Iíd write a poem each day,

How was I to know,

This killer weíve got with us,

Would not know when to go.

     

Iíve told you things about me,

And what I have achieved,

And been so delighted,

At the way itís been received.

 

Weíve all managed to keep in touch,

In a way itís been a blessing,

Weíre not happy with all the rules,

And feel they need addressing.

 

I donít envy the job they do,

Until this thing is gone,

No way will they have a chance,

To satisfy everyone.

 

So Iíll carry on my writing,

Must keep ďFingersĒ on his toes,

That really sounds quite stupid,

But of course his place he knows.

 

So Iíll tell you more about my life,

While Geoffís on his PC,

Then when this is all over,

You can write a book on me.