Here's Alison: The Funeral
Poet Alison Ross creates jolly verses while contemplating her own funeral.
I was laying in my bed, convinced that I was dying,
And the Doctor when he told me " Just a touch of flu" was lying,
Cause he didn't want to tell me, not in the very least,
That me time was drawing near, and I ought to call a priest.
So I swallowed all his medicine, kept me upper lip quite stiff,
Even though I longed to tell him, I was torn apart with griff,
To think me darlin children and me jolly mate...
Would never see poor me again, till they reached the golden gate!
I can see them all a-gathering, from far and near they come,
When me darlin children sez, "The funeral is for Mum"
Aunt Sophie down from Auckland wearing her best black,
The Bentley, double parked of course, is Uncle Jack.
There's cousins and there's neighbours all come to shed a tear,
Though they didn't come to see me, when I was living here...
The Minister he coughs and he quiets the noisy hum,
He says "I'd like you all to pray, for these poor children's Mum!
"She wasn't very old, but she was called to go,
Next week it might be your turn, so on your knees you go!"
It was a lovely service, though it wasn't very kind,
When the organist played "Comes the Bride" to say, she'd nicked the wine!
And after at the plot, that they'd dug out nice and deep,
They showered me with flowers, cause they knew I wouldn't keep!
They thought me in that coffin, but I was floating by her side,
And I heard me Mum-in-law pick out me hubby's brand new bride.
I thought of giving her a push, into the blooming hole,
But I should be looking after, my Eternal Soul!
Back at the house they gathered and it really makes me fume,
To see them all a-prying, in and out me room!
Cousin Betsy's pinched me bracelet, and Lucy's pinched me stole,
I've a darn good mine to haunt them, if I can just stay out that hole!
Me Mum-in-law is looking at the cobwebs on the wall,
And Tut-tutting at the ironing, hidden in the hall!
The pot I burnt on Monday's still soaking in the tub,
While me pet spider Oscar, is draped across the shrub!
The pudding overflowed its pan, Sunday week ago,
I meant to clean the darn thing up, but I've been feeling low!
And fridge is overflowing, but you can't speak ill of the dead,
So Auntie is just shaking, her old and weathered head!
The dog peed on the carpet , in the spare room down the hall,
While the windows are so grimy, that you cant see out at all!
I cannot bear to think, what my relatives will say.....
I wonder if you'd mind, if I didn't die today?
