| Fantasy Poetry
posted June 12, 2015 |
Jacob Jones has a word or two to say about his funeral.
The Funeral Of Jacob Jones
Funeral Contest Winner
"Dearly beloved," Pastor Frank began, his head so humbly bowed,
"We're here to eulogize our friend, and I know he'd be most proud.
I've asked a few of his family and friends to speak on his behalf.
His wife, his son, his pastor, and let's not forget his partner, Ralph."
"Oh, no, you don't," I said, while floating overhead quite dead.
You were sleeping with my wife behind the storage shed.
You speak kind and endearing words over my grave just now,
But what did you say the other day? I am Molly's sweet Cash Cow?"
"Please come and say a word or two, Molly Jones," the Pastor said,
About your darling husband, who is, unfortunately, rather dead.
I know you miss him more than anyone here could know,
So please tell us what happened when he fell from the family boat?"
"I drowned in the river, you fool," I said, if only he'd look up,
After she slipped a sleeping pill into my coffee cup.
She pushed me over the side and then turned the boat about,
Throwing my tainted coffee, so folks wouldn't find her out."
Once Molly was finished crying and building my virtual shrine,
Pastor called up little Jacob, who everyone knew wasn't really mine.
He talked about me in such a way that made me believe he cared,
He even ended his brief talk with a simple heartfelt prayer.
"Thank you, boy, the pastor said. Would you please take your seat.
We will hear from partner Ralph, and let him express his grief.
I appreciate you all coming here," Ralph said as he strode up to the floor.
"I will be really brief, and try not to be a bore."
"Oh, please," I gasped, from where I sat on a chair beside my casket,
"You've never been brief at anything, you hopeless boring maggot.
You stole from me every chance you got, and you seemed to find them often,
Don't make me get up from here and shove you in this coffin."
"Thank you, Ralph," Pastor said, once everyone was asleep and snoring.
"Because my partner wasn't just dishonest, but was really truly boring,
Now it's my turn to say how I felt about this poor dead man
Who drowned once he fell off his boat and failed to swim to land."
"Oh, no," I sighed. "Let's see what this foolish man has to say of me.
He's going on about the time I took to help the poor in the community.
He says I was a mighty man of God, and I do believe that's true,
'Cause my Mama raised me that way, and said that's what real men do."
"Here he lies, in this coffin cold," the Pastor man said most sad.
"He was the best man his family and this Church has ever had.
So let's sing a song to honor him, which I know will make you shiver,
Turn, if you will, to page 109, and sing, 'Shall We Gather at the River.'"
"Good idea," says I as I hover, but soon to take my journey up,
"Maybe you will find against that shore, my tainted coffee cup."
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Writing Prompt
Write a poem about a funeral from the deceased's perspective
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Funeral
Contest Winner
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Recognized
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Thanks for the artwork, "This Ole Man" by Loyd C. Taylor, Sr, who, if you know his work, is a multi-talented man. Check out his work in Fanstory as well. You will love it!
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