The Nephew – A quarantine poem
Getting back to family life is always strange. It’s the first time in 8 months all of us have been home together. Heres a little poem I wrote about it.
The Nephew – a poem by Billy Dyer
Dad’s in bed, sleep in his eyes
Holidays for young one, eager to rise.
Grandpa’s next, kettle on the boil
Tea for all before the days toil.
They rise unsynced, many minutes apart
Stories in bed, he melts grandmas sweet heart.
Breakfast is scrambled, porridge in the pot
Grandpa to uncles, dont eat the lot!
Two hour walk, the house falls silent
Drastic change, things could turn violent.
Singing, shouting, drumming too
Lifes twists and turns, he has no clue.
Thanks for reading