The Funeral

The village lay in silence

As I lounged there, on the hill,

The grass so soft and evergreen,

The flowers, petalled still,

The morning sun shone brightly

As I lay, without a care,

And watched the village come awake,

I watched the village stir.

 

The baker with his basket

Dropping off each loaf of bread,

The milkman chinking bottles

As the wives stirred from their bed,

The countrymen at breakfast

Peering out to greet the day,

The c**k had crowed just once that morn,

The fox had had its way.

 

Then later on that morning

I could hear the church bell toll,

And the mourners, dressed in black

Filed out, the widow in her shawl,

Her walk seemed so familiar,

I guessed it was a friend,

And pondered on this life of ours,

How soon it seemed to end.

 

The bearers soon appeared, heads bowed,

The coffin seemed so slight,

To carry all those hopes and dreams

Toward that final night,

They led the whole procession

At a stately, regal pace,

Toward the path up on the hill

Where God would lend him grace.

 

They weaved and turned along the track

Where lay the cemetery,

I stood as they approached, I saw

They’d have to pass by me,

But then the vicar halted as

He came into my view,

I asked: ‘Who is the fallen one?’

He said: ‘We come for you!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

OHH That was unexpected. I suppose I never thought of waiting for the coach .Hmm beautiful rhyming.I always find one word here or there that seems out of place till I consider what it sounds like in Australian English.And then I realize the difference on the vowel .In this case the word was cemetery. pronounced cemetarrie here But I imagine cemeteree there.Another great work of yours you have had such a Renaissance of late. You may fill a library before its your turn .Remember the story of the man who wound the clock.For you that would read you will live so long as you keep creating and perhaps forever more

[Loner]

Great write and very interesting .......

[Katie Lynn]

I totally pretended it was being read to me with an Australian accent...

when I hit the end, I heard a comical inflection. it was AWESOME!!! truly. I think this would make an awesome spoken piece

[Stanley Wilson]

nice twist great work really enjoyed it

[spiritwind]

How glad I am that I stumbled across you. From now on every timw I come to the Writer's Cafe, I'm going to settle in and read a poem by you and be instructed in the art of writing fine poetry.This time I paid attention to rhythm and rhyme and found them smoooooooooooth as silk. I paid attention to your fine details: the grass and the flowers and the baker with his basket and the milkman clinking his bottles. And all this I did the second time through because your story charms and you don't notice those things the first time through other than you see the scene as if you're lying atop that hill.

[Patricia B. Hepler]

How rude can I possibly be?! I've read this several times and just returned to enjoy once more and found that I ain't left no review?! ;)

Love the pace, the storyline, rhyme scheme; the last 2 lines were so unexpected...
Another great work, David~ pat

[Enid Blake]

I was secretly hoping he was a ghost lounging around out there... :)

[Tomi]

This is pure gold! Amazing! beautiful twist!

[emmajoy]

For some reason I thought of the Ingoldsby Legends when i came to your last line! (one of my younger brother's favourite books, a gift from an aged uncle!). You always weave a wonderful story into your poetry, if not factual, certainly could be. I felt a real sense of place and people, great touches of atmosphere as per the following,

'The baker with his basket ~ Dropping off each loaf of bread,~ The milkman chinking bottles ~ As the wives stirred from their bed, ~ The countrymen at breakfast ~ Peering out to greet the day, ~ The c**k had crowed just once that morn, ~ The fox had had its way.'

[Marie]

Very good. I wondered what the twist would be in this one, for I know it would happen. I was unsure about the cemetary pronunciation until I read Tate Morgan's review.