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After the funeral mommy closed the door,
"please play," she said," with your doll on the floor;"
and on the bed, she wept a real downpour.
    The room got dark as night,
    soon, I was in moonlight;
    under the bed I hid in fright.
I hugged my doll and I prayed to Jesus,
Jesus, I'm still wearing my fancy dress;
me and dolly are in a terrible mess.
    Jesus, can you help me?
    Can you get my grannie?
    She will make toast and tea.
        Jesus, me and dolly are afraid,
        I was real good, I obeyed;
oh, oh how long under the bed have I stayed?
GRANNIE is here! She came for me no doubt,
I can hear her calling my name, shout, SHOUT;
     Jesus, I will be okay, over and out.
     Jesus, oh, can you please wake mommy,
        Wake up my mommy!
            Mommy?    MOMMY?     M O M M Y . . . WAKE UP!

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May 16, 2015 (Edit April 30, 2019)


Poetry/Rhyme/Wake Up, Mommy
Copyright Protected, ID 15- 1140-654-0
All rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

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