My Dear

My dear it's come to that hour
Dress in your best suit and tie
Yes it's our hour
The hour for us to die
Death is at the door
Please do let him in
We'll sit him at the coffee table
And discuss our every sin
My dear we've led some life
Even Death's ashen face
Begins to show a blush
As we elaborate our case
From the mountain peaks
To the valleys dark and low
We tell him our entire lives
And whatever he wants to know
My dear when the time comes
I want to be sitting next to you
Because when Death calls them lies
You know what is true
If we're sent down there
Where the weather's always hot
Instead of heaven above
Well my dear, I'd rather be with you than not

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i love this and the surprise ending...at first it is like dickinson's "Because i could not stop for death"
which shows death as a gentleman caller..and these two people accepting him into their home.

and then suddenly at the end...all those sins have them going into the heat. but at least together.

nicely done.

j.

[Nessly]

Your poem has beautiful imagery throughout. I love the narrator's conversation with death. This feeling I have as the reader that the narrator would rather spend an eternity "down there" with the one he or she loves than an eternity in heaven without his or her love leaves me in awe. Your poem is very captivating and flows nicely.