Grave Visit (IP)
By Rhiannonw
- 2261 reads
Black boots, brown boots in a line,
looking very smart and fine,
with spit and polish mirror shine:
Papa’s, Mama’s, John’s and mine.
We’ll be following the hearse,
’cos Grandad’s cough got worse, and worse
– it killed his body, not his soul,
his coffin’s going in a hole.
As to the ground it was committed
‘Look sad, ’cos smiling’s not permitted’,
John said, to make me laugh or squeak
just as the man began to speak
Mama bent and picked me up
– her kisses helped my giggles stop,
John was passed to Papa’s side –
peeped up at Papa, Papa smiled.
[IP: the black boots looked fine … smiling wasn't permitted]
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Comments
What a lovely scene! I love
What a lovely scene! I love the childlike - almost like a suitably slowed down skipping rhyme - lines. So hard for little ones to behave sad at funerals. Glad Dad smiled.
Your poem is a gem!
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Imaginative use of the IP and
Imaginative use of the IP and well written to. I'm guessing their might be some luscious red fruit heading your way. If there is, it will be well deserved. If there isn't, it's still a wonderfully warm poem.
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Hi Rhiannon
Hi Rhiannon
I do like this poem very much. I can't remember being at any burials as a child - and our grandkids weren't old enough to come to the funeral when Philip died. But I can imagine this scene happening just as you wrote it.
Jean
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