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On the day of old Fred’s funeral
    The coffin reached the church,
And, carried on men’s shoulders,
    Went passed the weeping birch -

 

And on beyond the daffodils,
    Planted with some care,
And forward to the church door
    Where family waited there.

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Nobody was dressed in black;
    No-one shed a tear
And Fred had told them firmly
    He didn’t want 'austere' -

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'For I’ve lived my life upon this earth,
    And done the best I could.
I’ve sometimes said things I regret,
    And not always been good.'

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'At my age I’ve lived far more years
    Than many people do.
I’ve done the things I wanted to,
    And many more things too.'

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'I feel it’s time to say goodbye,
    And now I’m on my way,
But, I wouldn’t be at all surprised,
    If we meet another day.'

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'I’ve lived to see my children grow,
    And met their children too,
And now that I’ve reached eighty-six
    There’s nothing left to do . . . 

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'Except to move to my new home,
    Where I can start again –
And you get on, rejoice with me.
    Get pouring that champagne!'

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So the organ played some happy hymns;
    The family said goodbye.
They toasted Fred with good champagne,
     Ate the salad and the pie.

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Then, through the window came the sun,
    And shone upon the wall.
Could Fred have just called in to say
     'Goodbye' to one and all?

Copyright on all my poems

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