Jemima often looked her collection of books

These were her only books as her flat was small

She loved poetry and the Georgian Poets

And her library contained all their works

But this made her a little uncomfortable

As she realised that each of her books

Had survived the Spanish Flu pandemic

Which had occurred just over a hundred years before

What place had the innocence of these poems

In those dark days that followed the war

This was a question that she could not answer

And now history was repeating itself

She had been trapped in her small town for over two months

And longed for the bucolic country days of her tender years

This made her angry which in turn caused her shame

As another question even more raw came to mind

Why in this pleasant land of milk and honey 

Are we so ravaged by the excesses of rats

Who have no place within these shores

Jemima a minor poet herself had started a poem

That she knew that she would never finish

She decided on its title after a great deal of thought

The Sins of Our Sleeping Fathers