Dear Mr C (ode to COVID)

Dear dear Mr C ,you cannot sit in this pew.

You haven’t the mind of these remnant few .

And , I remember how the days used to be

Where you acted as a monster, mr C

as you pounced with Mr fear up the aisle,

And ,good church folks left in single file.

On the Ides of March, your name I heard .

Spoken to us who were gathered In the WORD

“We shall not meet”I heard priest did say .

So, we gathered our missiles and went away

Folks thought you might commune with us

to kiss our host or to drink from our cup.

They did not want you to sit in our pew

shaking our hands with our “peace to you “.

But I do not know why you were not welcomed here

for they often invite others to come with Mr fear .

They invite ones like you from office and home .

They invite ones like you from where germs roam.

Seems at church they let you scatter us most .

I think some forgot you die before the host.

And too , they forgot in the Sovereign’s making .

He makes you to live then to die in Jesus’s taking.

I never had seen the church crumble and sway.

Like a bride changing her mind on her wedding day.

The day you walked in the sanctuary, Mr C

And made the church cling to Mr. fear and flee.

But now see , The Bride spreads from town to town

She strengthens with beauty to wear Her Crown.

And now, she sits free from Fear , dressed in white

And you Mr C are no longer The Spouse of Fright.

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