Our Mum became a spiritualist quite out of the blue.
She said she’d seen some signs and had took a different view.
She began to think more deeply as her age became advanced.
Besides, ‘aving a second go down ‘ere was surely worth a chance.
She’d like to visit family and show them she’s at peace
And keep an eye on Uncle Jack and that barmaid down the Fleece.
He’d always been a philanderer since he married Auntie Carol.
And rumors they were rife about his antics “ Over ‘t barrell.
Our Mum attended meetings every Wednesday night.
And the tales that she came home with gave us all a fright.
She’d tell of long dead relatives, of the congregation.
Waking them at midnight for casual conversation.
Relatives of the faithful in conversation with the dead
The thought of ours returning filled us all with dread
Our family was n’t keen for our Granddad to return.
To remind us of his army days and life “ beyond the urn.”
Granddad was n’t buried, he’d asked to be cremated.
So we did n’t want to see him, charred, crisp but elated.
What about the smoke alarms all around our dwelling?
The heat from our dead Granddad will surely set them yelling.
And if he is still smoking although he always had a cough.
The stench from his cigars will surely set them off.
Then there's uncle Ronnie who thought none of this made sense.
" When you're gone you're dead," he said, "no return nor recompense."
If asked 'bout reincarnation, He'd ensure that he was heard.
" I did n't believe in that," he'd say " even when I was a bird.”
Our Mum was quite determined to probe behind "The gate."
To find one of her relatives referred to as “ The late.”.
She’s really got quite desperate for anyone who’s dead,
Our Auntie Nellie’s lodger or mad old Uncle Fred.
Then one day our Mum, she got her wish, when a vicar in the shrine,
Said finding feathers in the house was regarded as a sign
Our Mum got all excited and she began to shout.
That she’d found feathers in the house after one of us “ Checked out.”
“ It happened after Christmas, a terrible mishap.”
Our Budgie George was on his cage, quite close to the cat.”
“The cat jumped on the Budgie’s cage and swallowed him in one.”
“And when he spat the feathers out poor old George was gone!”
"We looked for George around the house, but he vanished in thin air.”
And just like that there Vicar said", "Feathers everywhere.!”
So now our Mum's a spiritualist and preaches psalm and verse.
"That feathers are a sign, even when the duvet bursts.”
So if you’re being haunted or find feathers in your bed.
It might not be a sign or contact from the dead.
It’s time to get the hoover out and push it round the mat.
And if your budgie’s missing. It’ll be inside the cat.
- Author: Chris Duffy ( Offline)
- Published: July 22nd, 2021 05:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
Comments2
Usual smooth fun read from you, Chris.
I'm sure I've met one or two of your characters in the course of a fairly long life....
Thanks Dave. I’m trying to catch up with your stuff at the moment but I’ve been busy.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.