Bury me not in the cool red clay
That mellow earth of my native state
Stand not upon some neat cut grass
Watered by those wasted tears

My wish for a funeral is a simple one
Friends and families gather for fun,
Play some tunes, sing some songs
Sip something cool, whatever you choose

Inter me not amid that crop,
Harvested from some far away spot,
Those cold and gray granite blocks
Where names are blurred by all the years
Of mold and moss and relentless rain
When no one is left to feel the pain

For all, one day, the Lord arrives
Since no one here gets out alive
So turn my soul-less ship to dust
Slip it into some simple cup
Where those, who wish, can come and watch
As those who wish may take it up
Where I found love and lonesome thoughts,
Like riding my Harley
To some magnificent mountain top
My wife rides with me
to our spot

So when I leave this planet Earth
A special place where souls are birthed
Watch my dust in the wind rise high
Mourn not for when this body dies
My spirit flies to paradise

10/09/2014

Author's Note: I miss you Ronny. You were a great brother!!

Posted on 10/09/2014
Copyright © 2025 Tony Whitaker