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by aje
Rated: E · Other · Death · #1137171
A bit of poetry about my grandma Judy
Some wore purple scarves,
Others wore silly hats, or wacky socks.
Those in the aisle wore neon feather boas.

“When The Saints Go Marching In” was playing over the loudspeakers.
A big dinner party was planned for after church.
Pictures were everywhere, and in every one she was smiling.

But she wouldn’t be at the dinner party,
And she didn’t get to see the purple scarves,
The silly hats, or the wacky socks.
She couldn’t hear the music,
Couldn’t watch those in the aisle.

Her eyes couldn’t see,
her ears couldn’t hear,
and her lips couldn’t smile
as she lay dead in her coffin,
on the shoulders of the neon-feather-wearing people in the aisle.
© Copyright 2006 aje (abjuen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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