Let it Be
Let it be,
that I may someday touch the stars.
When all time for me has expired,
and the soul begins to part.
Guide me through the heavens,
where life one day began.
A perfect creation,
molded right out of
our Fathers loving hands.
by Robert M. Hensel
http://wheelierecord.tripod.com
Rights: The author grants visitors to this website the right to use the above poem for memorial services etc. as long as the author is given full credit for his work.
My Saddest Day
It all started when in at five past midnight
Now I am lying stiff and cold
Deep in troubled dreamless sleep.
Cotton wool stuffed in my nostrils,
I cannot breathe.
A rag tightening my jaws together,
I cannot protest.
My feet bound together,
Surely there is no escape this time round.
Granny chose they dress me up in my favourite suit,
But this time there will be no return journey.
My brothers have put me in a box,
I am on display in the Living Room.
Living Room, what am I doing in the room of the living?
But they cannot hear me,
Because I cannot speak.
The Burial of Carol Joy Beglau
by: Walter Wykes (1969- )
It seems fitting
that the men you knew in life
perform this task
These are no strangers
struggling with the rocky earth
no hired men with power tools
It is your sons and grandsons
your daughters’ husbands
who make a place for you
with a shovel
and their hands
originally posted at Black Cat Poems
Subscribe
Subscribe to Our Newsletter
