Don't leave it til its too late

This poem for me, brings to light the huge and unmanageable emotions that can result from the death of a loved one. Even though it is written about a man (probably one of W H Auden's lovers), it really brings home the inevitability of the absolute feeling of being lost when we lose someone special in our lives.

I thought i'd post it here today because i've been thinking a lot about the special people in my life and how we should appreciate them now, while they are all alive, with all of their good points and faults, and how we should remind them that we love them unconditionally, because you just never know when you'll lose them.

I would like someone to read this at my funeral, when the time comes, albeit a selfish request) .......

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever:

I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W H Auden