https://www.theguardian.com/society/2025/jan/26/the-mindbody-revolution-how-the-division-between-mental-and-physical-illness-fails-us-all?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

In my dreams I travel deep and low
Into the loving world of long ago
The jacket on the chair ,it smelled of smoke……
The funny tales, he sang, he laughed, he spoke

So faint the memory, strong are its remains
Security and love in our domain
The brushes and the stipplers all stood by
For no-one told his tools that he would die.

On his shoulders, like a queen I rode
So safe and happy on the path he trod.
His voice was clear and he could whistle too
In those days men were used to do

 

And  love shone from him on my mother dear
She smiled and made us cakes for Sunday tea
What  tragedy to leave  his children five
But in that distant space ,he is alive

The fire as red as any glowing rose
We were dressed so well in  home made clothes
Too happy, needing no words to relate
Our sense of being in this  generous space

I can’t get back to them, I cannot swim
The passages too wet , the light so dim
Yet I feel it in my body faint and clear
Death is not the end of those so dear.

Deep inside our minds, ancestors live
And   to out hearts a depth and breadth they give
Yet missing him,I hover near the place
Where I might dive into his dear embrace

The  table where we  banged our little heads
The chairs so close together like a bed
The teapot  always full, the sugar bowl
The fire, the kettle , pussy cat and coal

The fireplace had its oven  nice and warm
Looking at hot coals made me feel calm
The children seem to play in that   far space
And all around  is love  and on  and on I gaze

“Your eyes are like deep pools in the Indonesian ocean” Stan murmured into his mistress Annie’s ear.He gently took hold of her and pulled her down onto his thin knee.
Just as he did , his new Habitat chair collapsed and they fell onto the floor.,the chair in many bits around them like a jigsaw puzzle in three dimenstions,
Have you got your smartphone,my sweetheart “he whispered romantically
“I think you’ll have to ring 999.
“OK,my angel” Annie prattled,
” Operator,it’s my lover’s chair .It keeps collapsing;can we bring into A and E to be fixed? Well he can’t get into to bed anymore as he is 107,so we really need this”
Just then a pebble hit the window,it was his wife coming back from Sainsburys” She’s lost her keys in her book bag yet again
Oh,wonderful,just at the right moment” he shouted,”Hello,Mary,here is Annie,she’s a chair surgeon!”
“Oh,that’s good”,Mary muttered enigmatically.
” Do you ever fix beds?”
“Why do you ask?” Annie cried sweetly
“Well, ours is always collapsing’it’s yet another of life’s mysteries.”
“Why,you are so beautiful, Mary.You are mesmerising.Come and show me your bed.We’ll leave Stan here.He’ll soon be in that ambulance”
“Annie,your eyes are like deep salty pools in the Dead Sea .”
“Have you both been on the same creative writing course?” Mary spouted satirically.
“I aim for satisfaction.Here’s my gun.I’m going to shoot you” Annie called
“But we have no guns in the UK” Mary whispered under her breath
“Well you have now.” Annie said logically.
Just then the emergency ambulance arrived with its siren scaring the cats nearby but not Emile as he heard it so many times.
“OK. which chair is it this time” the trisexual paramedic Dave enquired foxily.
“Have you ever thought of making it in the bath?We’re getting really worried about you in Casualty,at your age.”
“Worry no more” Anne screamed emphatically, firing the gun repeatedly into the chair’s remains.
“I’ll make sure he never sits in it again.And now Habitat’s gone bust,he can’t buy another.’”
“Cheers ,mate!”whispered the paramedic dramatically.
“Has anyone ever told you,your eyes are like deep pools in the Sea of Tralee”.
“Oh,no not another one!”Anne moaned tentatively,”You need to raise your whole game,not just change the name of the sea”
“You’re so intelligent too,lady.Can you teach me truly creative writing?” He yelled quietly,by the way I am Trisexual.
” What a funny name.Come upstairs” she murmured in reply, “and we’ll see what sea we can see up there,tonight”.
“Thank you so much and please send me home in a stamped addressed envelope when you are done with me.” he responded quixotically
“Whatever” she sighed spontaneously.”Let’s get on with it or you’ll be here all night”
Does it matter? he called.”I am paid by the flower”
Emile the little black cat who had hidden in the wardrobe was disappointed that the light went out as he hoped to take a photo.
And so did all of us

https://www.loveliveson.com/funny-obituaries/