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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?

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Copyright on all my poems

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