Don’t panic

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It could be Moscow but it’s Newfield Green,

Cold, red-faced people stare at empty shelves,

Milk, eggs and bread are no-where to be seen,

Nothing to be done but console ourselves.

Someone cries out, “There’s a delivery!”,

A mob runs forward, pushing and shoving,

Until the shelves again are once more free,

People stood in queues with baskets groaning.

Ones who missed out are buying toilet rolls?

I can’t work out why this is happening,

Do they know something the rest of us don’t,

Are the factories producing them closing?

I believe that we will all be quite safe,

Because I will now go back home to bake.

Jo Hiley , S14