Death Matters: English Poems

Death Matters: English Poems Seaumas McSporran: Jack of all trades Policeman and fireman, pier master, Postmaster, collector of rent Undertaker and bed and B & owner Shopkeeper, each minute work-spent He was also an insurance agent Drove ambulance, taxi, school bus He delivered the petrol for drivers And registered deaths with no fuss What a whirl of man was McSporran! Like a wild hurricane with a pen Was there really no end to his talents? That most multi-tasking of men Songbirds Sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye, Four and twenty songbirds baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, all stuffed with pretty bird Did the throats begin to sing? Silence only heard! Haggis A haggis of strange pedigree Sent American Customs loopee Was the haggis a spy Sneaking in on sly? It was shot, quite a lot R.I.P The Porpoise A porpoise who needed the loo Stood ever so long in the queue So much that he dried And in consequence died While politely not passing his poo Bagpipe Malady A priest in a kilt played the pipes Waterskiing. The salmon cried ‘Cripes! It's a father in drag And he's squeezing a bag Which sounds as if its got the gripes' Tell-Tale I wanted to tell the world about my failures The garden shed stopped its ears, the house stone walled me I tried telling the sea but the tide withdrew Wailing shush shush shush The cat in the chysanthemums Uptailed, stalked off, presenting the bead of its bottom I tried telling the florist She sold me a bunch of forget me nots And said ‘Get lost', while languidly filing her nails In the café I told a stranger over a frothy latte He hadn't listened at all, He frowned, I'd disturbed his crossword I went to the church I sat in an empty pew And tipped all the nasties into the chilly air Whatever I told it echoed and returned Like an onion repeating itself on the breath I should have bought a Dictaphone instead Cistercians at the Monastery of Deer Vigils at 2am-precentor leads the singing Heads bowed, each monk is on time Lauds at 3am- daybreak and prayers, Prime at 4am-prayers and confession Chanting psalm 129 5 till 8 its work. There's hens to tend, there's scything grass Milking, gardening, weeding the orchard, brewing Pottery, scribing, polishing, cleaning, baking Breakfast of porridge and bread, a mug of ale Terce at 9am and then it's mass Sext at 11.30, and after, dining Siesta at noon to snatch a needed nap None at 2pm - prayers, more work, reading Vespers at 6pm At 8, Compline Then blessed sleep, bed in a dormitory No wife, no child. A life of celibacy A monastery becomes the family White-robed, shaved head, Cistercians Always together, Always solitary