Pied Pipe’r’tte And The Burette

The hungry virologist in the chemistry lab drooled

At the thought of the pie and a chaa’r’t

Which he wanted to make of the spread of the virus,

He knew that the business was serious

His walk for the sundae in the neighborhood to meet the Janata

Was all but gone, cause of the cur’se’few

But he would ring the bell five strokes for the PM

In all appreciation for him and his ilk too deserved one.

Pre-occupied with the solvents, had he

Discovered the panacea for the pandemic

He would have become the ‘WHO’s who

In the ‘an’nals of the virologist’s list

The pied pipe’r’tte with the burette and the mice,

His pang(o) for the ‘lean’ meat pie grew

As his piped dream to visit China and kept him going

In his vigil without ‘bat’ting an eyelid day and night.