Open Poetry #28 |
Dying Beyond My Means |
Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
As the gentleman sat in his bed The end near, knocking at the door He made one simple last request For the bottle of Dom He had been saving it for such as this A special occasion like none other And as he sat there, propped on a pillow Awaiting the Reaper's call His family looked on in wonder Was it bravado, one last wish Had the old chap finally gone mad With a twinkle in his eye He looked around laughing "Drink up, lads, and tarry not This is no time for long faces Or to be sad at the day All is well, better, in fact Than it has any right to be I might be going, boys, But look at me now... I am dying well beyond my means" We are all equal but we’re individually different |
||
© Copyright 2003 Bradly Stott - All Rights Reserved | |||
angelblueyes Member Elite
since 2003-07-19
Posts 2148Oklahoma |
Ringo, this so speaks volumes.I had a German English Teacher my sophmore and junior year.She died my junior year and wanted her ashes spread over her home land. She left us all a note that after the funeral we were to all have a party at her house instead of going to a cemetery where here headsttone would be here for her memory.Thanks for letting me remeber this wonderful lady again. Crystal |
||
littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Brad . . . I do believe I know this . . . and it does make me smile that he went smiling . . . *smile* *hugs* beautiful writing as always xxoo |
||
Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
I do believe that he was Irish! EA |
||
⇧ top of page ⇧ | ||
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |