Ode to a Funeral Director

Bring your Kin to Ernie's place. He'll bury the stiff with style and grace. Or if you prefer, he'll torch it in its bier. Either way he'll ease your grief, and you'll stand up and cheer.

Where will my remains go after my spirit leaves my body and who will get my Earthly possessions? Then too, will I ever discover who are truly my friends?

Will there be flowers? How many hours will I be on display, while the children of my relatives run around and play? Will there be Heavenly music, or will my final exit be nothing more than sick?

As I look down from the sky; no doubt, the sight of me will cause someone to cry. Doctors, lawyers, bill collectors and my treasured relatives will surely shed a tear, because each and every one of them will get nothing 'cause I'm no longer here.

I'll wish them well and give them my love; as I have for most of my life. A white dove freed from its cage will fly into the sky; as their jaws drop and their eyes become wide from the sight of me within my bier.

I'll be laying face down with my bare bottom exposed for all to see. Yes, I believe that will be my final deed. That surely is one thing that I would like to see, and also to determine the extent of their greed.

Those who seek a part of my Estate will have to comply with my last request. Will they kiss what I have exposed, or will they simply turn up their nose?

Only God knows the answer to that question, but if they did, someone will hear my cheer.

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