SONNET- 20
(9th April 2020 -in iambic pentameter)-Angelo Pfithu
Covid-19 batter the world deep sad,
The planet earth is now a wailing cry;
Is quarantine governing thy thought sad?
This too shall pass- ‘God is with us’, I scry.
Our towns desolated, our field’s barren,
Tenebrosity triumph for sojourn;
Stock emptied, all shut ‘nd break for children,
Agonizing groan to upheaval mourn.
It is just to transpose to family,
It is just a way to nurse when thirsty;
It is just to let mediate purely,
It is just to teach us ‘give in bounty.’
Happenstance today the entire orb end,
This too shall pass pronto- He is ‘Our Friend.’
