My Dad’s Funeral
The day was the day of my dad’s funeral
and we began early by drowning our tears.
At 11: 30 the hearse arrived with dad,
so we hurriedly finished our beers.
The Funeral Procession took to the ring road
the slowest and longest way to the Crem’.
Nearly everyone’s bladder was bursting,
even the women’s and youngest children.
When we reached Markeaton Crematorium
everyone dashed from their cars to the loo.
There were so many people waiting to go
they had formed an unprecedented queue.
Eventually the Funeral Service got going
and everyone was relieved, and glad.
Tears fell as the vicar was speaking,
which made us all feel terribly sad.
The hymn singing lacked life and feeling,
as did my dear departed dad.
After twenty minutes the service was over
and all in all, it didn’t go so bad.
We walked around The Garden of Remembrance,
looking at the wreaths and bouquets.
In turn we read out the words of sympathy cards,
and left the Crem’ with little to say.
The return trip home took us along the ring-road,
but the traffic was slower than before.
Consequently the beverage we had consumed earlier
required our bladders to be emptied once more.
Most of us by now were positively bursting,
our journey was short, but so far.
The cars then had to stop at some road works
and brother Ted leapt from the car.
He leaped over a wooden fence into a field
where he disappeared into the long grass.
My family were in hysterics laughing
as the road works let our car pass.
The excitement left everyone holding their stomachs,
as tears of laughter fell from our eyes.
We agreed that our dad would’ve been laughing too,
after we eventually reduced our bladders in size.
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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