The last kindly act

They come to me disfigured and
beyond a doctors care,
or aged beyond the skill of
any surgeon to repair
With tired eyes and sagging skin
and lacking muscle tone,
and it's my job to restore them to
the paragons once known.
It's not for them I do this, as
they're not the ones that ask.
It's parents, children, others who
leave me this gentle task.
It's not their pride or vanity
that brings them down to me
but the love of those around them
who want the world to see
that though the spark of life has gone,
thanks to my art and skill,
they're lying in their coffins but
they could be sleeping still.

Where will you go?

You said to me Where will you go?
Where will you go when life is done?
I answered, I don't really know
what happens when my race is run,
show me the options I'll choose one.

But some will say I have no choice
God will decide if I lived well
and if I did my future's nice
if not eternity is hell.
Who knows? No-one's come back to tell.

So how about another chance
reincarnated once again.
A good life will karma enhance
A bad life will your karma maim,
but who will referee this game?

I feel that when this earthly play
is done, all that was "I" will flee.
So I can only hope and pray
in someone's mind the bit that's me
remains a happy memory,

Together

They're holding hands as they walk along
Like love's young dream from a silly song
Their eyesight's weak but their love is strong
And they've had sixty years together.

They walked and wooed and wedded fast
Their friends all said it couldn't last
But they've proved them wrong as lifetimes passed
And they've had sixty years together.

They walk their path upon this earth
form parent's death to children's birth.
They cry their sorrow and laugh their mirth
And they've had sixty years together.

She walks alone on silver sand
He went ahead to the promised land.
Still in her heart he holds her hand
as they had sixty years together.




Holding hands for sixty years
Sharing joys and sharing tears
Memories for souvenirs
of sixty years together

The Photos of my Youth

The photos of my youth are all in sepia
The movies, black and white, and silent too
No instant replay from digital media
No internet to send them on to you

But though my yesterdays appear much duller
I can remember them in technicolour.