Granny Poem by Phil Soar

My gran passed away in the hospice
I wish that I wasn't related
I promised her that she'd be buried
and the vicar has had her cremated

He gave me an urn with her ashes
and apologised for the mistake
but that was no good for poor granny
she'd been put in an oven to bake

I was left with an awful dilemma
Do I bury her under the ground?
Or do I go down to the spinney?
and scatter her ashes around

I thought very hard for a fortnight
and I left her remains in the shed
there were all sorts of feelings inside me
and so many thoughts in my head

I finally made my decision
and I felt that the time was now ripe
but my grand dad mistook grannies ashes
for tobacco to put in his pipe

He'd smoked her while I made my mind up
and he seemed quite devoid of all feeling
as he puffed on his trusty old clay pipe
It was gran who was staining the ceiling