Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors

I died and here I lie
As mourners pass by,
They pause to wipe tears
Staring at me lying here.

I died where I was born
Early on a frosty morn,
With presents under the tree,
I was born on Christmas Eve.

Life is over but it's not so bad
As I recall the years I had,
There's not much I'd change
If I came back to rearrange.

Let the funeral march begin
I've seen it through till the end,
Enough of this teary grieving
It's time this soul was leaving.

It's waiting outside for me,
My carriage ride to eternity,
I'll be carried out that door
Never to enter one no more.

A hearse will carry me home
Ever to lie neath the loam,
A horse drawn one it's to be,
To that resting place for me.

So If I had my druthers
Transport me brothers,
Place me in my fancy ride,
Haul me to where I'll bide.

I shall lie aside my dear wife
The only joy I knew in life,
She waits for me on yonder hill
Forever loving, forever still.

©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison: 01-19-05

Song title: "Filoro"

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