Viking Ship

On my last visit to see my father,

I found him dressed in his cherry red robe,

And wearing his red ruby pinky ring.

He looked very much at ease in the open coffin,

As though asleep at the beach or in his contoured chair.

 

What a pity I thought that this old Viking,

Could not be sent out to sea,

To the god of storms on a blazing pyre, rather than be buried in the unexciting earth,

Nothing placid about my old man.