Junk MailA Poem by RonProse Poem about twilight days.
Previous Version This is a previous version of Junk Mail.
Stanley Morton’s wide awake, Cup of tea at half past eight! He’s buttering a round of toast! Alert, anticipating post.
Junk mail’s pushed through Stanley’s door. ‘Double glazing’ and two more! Life Insurance, if you please! One from a shady charity!
As farmer gathers priceless crop, Stanley gleans the letters up! Moving quickly as he’s able, Sits with mail at kitchen table.
Then by deft magician’s touch The junk mail letters reconstruct! Communications from the lost and dead Commute to Stanley Morton’s head!
(INSPIRED BY HIS SWEET MEMORIES, WE CAN SHARE HIS REVERIE.)
(Read the next section to the tune of Silver Threads Amongst the Gold!) Letter 1. “Sweetest son here is your letter, from your loving Mum and Dad. Writing from the ever after, hope this letter makes you glad!
We will ever be your sword and shield. Supporting you in every way! In your dreams still we embrace you When in your lonely bed you lay!”
Letter 2.
“Dearest Daddy do forgive me, Here your one and only son. I have failed to come and see you Failed to use the telephone!
Now, sweet Father, this all must change. We shall call on Tuesday week. Bringing Julia and the children Then to make your life complete”
Letter 3
“Oh my darling how I’ve loved you, Since times that I was young and fair. Yet every day I still am with you Dance around you in the air.
But my darling what will be will be. I long to have you by my side. Still I wait for you in Heaven, Ever your eternal bride!”
Postscript. Police Constable reporting by telephone to his Sergeant after dealing with an incident!
“Regarding the sudden death at 59, High Street Sarge! It’s a respectable looking man called Stanley Morton. Seems to have died while having his breakfast. Estimated time of death about one week ago. No suspicious circumstances! There are seven days of junk mail behind the door. Funnily enough he died holding one of these letters to his chest. Letter dated last Monday week! No next of kin. Rumours of a son but the neighbours haven’t seen a soul here for at least two years since Mr. Morton’s wife died! No doubt the son will turn up for his inheritance! One more thing Sarge! Mr Morton seems to be a great British eccentric! He collects junk mail! One of his bedrooms is full of it!”
© 2009 RonAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
41 Views
4 Reviews Added on February 3, 2009 Last Updated on February 3, 2009 Author
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|