A Luncheon for the Dead
In my dreams I always see,
Vivid images from my life;
Never in my dreams did I fancy,
Seeing people who bade goodbye to life.
Random people picked up from memory,
Are casted into a well structured script;
The stage is always rich in scenery,
And never a body rose from the crypt.
But today I had a different dream,
The drama crafted entirely in dialogue;
A reunion of the dead was the theme,
And a grand luncheon its prologue.
Familiar voices I could hear,
Voices I deeply revere;
But I had not a bit of fear,
As it was an occassion to cheer.
My passed away friends' chatter,
The deceased relatives' laughter,
The cutlery's occassional clatter,
The rain's continous splatter,
Continued till consciousness struck its hammer,
And drew the curtain in an abrupt manner.
27 Sep 2010,2: 05 AM
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