Uncle

A Poem by David Lewis Paget

‘Good riddance,’ I muttered, under my breath

As they closed the coffin lid,

My father clipped me around the ear,

Then said: ‘He’s just a kid!

He shouldn’t be here at the funeral,

It’s not a place for the young.’

But I knew better, and glared at him

He knew I’d wanted to come.

Just to be sure and certain that

He’d never be coming back,

I’d skipped and pranced in my attic room

When I heard of his heart attack,

I’d crossed my fingers, muttered to God

‘Can you please take him away!’

But it took a couple of weeks before

His heart had stopped that day.

He’d stood so tall in his overcoat

And his form had filled the door,

He cast a shadow all over me

As I glared down at the floor,

His eyes were piercing, brows were grim

When he said, ‘How’s Jack the lad?’

I felt like saying ‘Terrible now!’

He made me feel so bad.

My heart would drop to my boots when he

Came calling in the rain,

He’d chat a bit with my mother, then

Would climb the stairs again.

He always came, and he’d close the door

So I’d feel both sad and trapped,

He’d say, ‘…you happy to see me lad?’

But when he left, I clapped.

I thought of him as a monster with

His long and pointed teeth,

He looked like a picture of Dracula

When he grinned, they called him Keith.

I knew he was mother’s brother, but

He came from a different mould,

From something evil and slimy like

A demon, I’d been told.

My friend was into the evil ones

And he picked him right away,

‘He’s one of the demons of Beelzebub,

That’s why he wants to play.

He’ll back you into a corner so

You’ll never get out the door…’

My friend was right, and gave me a fright,

Though he was only four.

My mother, after the funeral

Had cried and hugged me close,

‘You shouldn’t fret, or cry my pet…’

I thought ‘Oh yes, that’s gross!’

I stood looking out of the window

At the last of the winter rain,

If only he hadn’t pushed me aside

So he could play with my train!

David Lewis Paget

© 2013 David Lewis Paget

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Tate Morgan

Oh so brooding and dark Yet in the eyes of a child larger than life characters take on a sinister tone. I felt this way of my grandfather when i was but a lad.i changed my toon when I grew up and found him a multifacited fellow. But he scared the bejesus out of me when i was young. Tagged me with a horse whip and threw me with one hand across the room . He was from a darker time when men were men and children were nothing.