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Funeral Poems For Drinkers: "Fortifying The Spirits"







When the bell rings for last orders

Please don’t panic or get vexed

It’s simply time to sup this world’s last drink

Before ordering your first in the next


It’s always opening time in heaven

And the alcohol doesn’t go to your head

It floats around in one’s ether

And fortifies your spirit instead


The dinosaur scratchings are slightly chewy

And the Martian wine’s an unfriendly red

But not peeing in the night is pure delight

And leaves you longer to hang over your bed


Your angel’s share is there to be asked for

Of the malt whisky escaped from oak casks

You can savour a peaty Macallan ‘46

For a drink that will forever last


“The Traveler’s Rest” always welcomes departed drinkers

With a warm smile and a kindly nod

You’ll never have to put your hand in your pocket again

Because this really is a free house, thank god


Michael Ashby


(Funeral Poems for landlords, publicans and brewers.)

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