Garden of Poetry

CHARITY

Chances kicked him; Charity rocked him.
Punching cruelty and munching poverty
Made him a dicky, demented creature.
Yet, he braved, begged and begged
To keep his feeble heart beating.
But hen, slowly and slowly...
He invited some diseases
That dwelled in him,
And in the end
Drew a silhouette of him.
The clock at last stopped
And his grave now became
The narrowest.

The bell rang
And his whole town sprang!
Soon two thousand rand
Were collected and a grand
Cow and some sheep
Shed their blood for the dead!
The body, well dressed, smiled
In a worthy coffin firmly set
On a silvery catafalque and was wreathed
With flowers rare with colorful care. Smokes,
Incensed, billowed daintily through the dirging voices.
The church heaved and the sky cleaved;
The high priest and the clergy played their holy parts;
Mournful speeches moved even the rocky hearts;
Smart, elegiac band led the long long procession;
"Farewell, sweet friend!" cried the crowd in succession.
Returned everyone at a good pace and feasted to the full
And in the end someone reviewed:

"It was indeed a grand funeral."