Grandad’s funeral

Grandad’s funeral

It’s the day of Granddad’s funeral
and everyone looks sad,
all in black and sombre
even dear old Aunty Glad.

We follow by the coffin,
our heads bowed in respect.
Listening to the vicar,
so sad in retrospect.

We listened to the music,
we sang “Abide with me”.
Uncle John had to leave early,
he was desperate for a wee.

Then old Edna read a poem
about life after death,
but Granddad was an atheist
until his dying breath.

Aunty Ena started crying,
and she said that was a sin,
but she settled down quite quickly
when she had a sip of gin.

And then his next door neighbour
said old Granddad was a saint,
whilst his lover Mrs Taylor
complained of feeling faint.

We sang the Lord’s my Shepherd,
but dear Granddad was no sheep.
The stories that he’d told me
could make a grown man weep.

And then the lovely vicar
told us he was now at peace.
he missed out the awkward story
about Granddad and the police.

It was a sad occasion
but he had the last laugh,
when we read what he’d suggested
should be his epitaph.

“Here lies dear old Granddad
whose bones had got cremated,
he wants us all to know that
dying is overrated”.

And the church filled up with laughter
as they carried out his old shell,
because he’d chosen the last music
played loud: “Bat out of hell”.

Jan Millward©