If Death Be But the Final Cut

11 If Death be now the final cut With no path to Heaven's door... Thou I've never had the courage To believe there's nothing more. So forgive my celestial musings And lay waste not my bugaboo But allow me one small favor... To love and pray for you. 12 Forgiveness be a wondrous thing With no stone to weigh it down. It knows no age nor time of day... It knows no proper noun. It floats upon a summer breeze And makes light the coming storm. It dances in each fireplace To keep the masses warm. But forgiveness holds no treasure If not effected and applied. So slather in gluttonous quantities With a conscience as your guide. 13 There seemed a hellish wintry bent As the storm pounded through the day. The winds were whipping fiendishly As our snowman walked away. With a feral dose of helter skelter... Nature seemed transfixed from normal rest Leaving one to mull and ruminate On the perturbations so expressed. The End Bugaboo: Area of concern. Perturbations: A disposition that is confused and quite upset. *Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your Uncle.