What we often fail to see
during a time of sorrow,
is that nothing in life but death is certain,
especially tomorrow.
So hold on to life with all your mite,
make every second count:
“She lived a life of no regrets!”
I want to hear them shout.
Beyond the fields of poppies
you will therefore see me skip,
and if you hear a concerning noise
oh, that’s just my hip!
For I’m now old my bones are weak,
but thrills I do still seek.
You’ll find me in the bingo hall,
Not once, but twice a week!
Feb 17, 2020
Feb 17, 2020 at 12:48 PM UTC
What we often fail to see
during a time of sorrow,
is that nothing in life but death is certain,
especially tomorrow.
So hold on to life with all your mite,
make every second count:
“She lived a life of no regrets!”
I want to hear them shout.
Beyond the fields of poppies
you will therefore see me skip,
and if you hear a concerning noise
oh, that’s just my hip!
For I’m now old my bones are weak,
but thrills I do still seek.
You’ll find me in the bingo hall,
Not once, but twice a week!
Inspired by the recent death of my grandmother.
