Rosary

My 12 year old knees grew sore from the gnarly floorboards
And the angelus bell had long stopped ringing
We assembled around the seemingly large double bed
All pious with hands a wringing

Five mysteries to fill the time
With Hail Marys recited like clockwork from my Father’s holy face
We playfully nudged each other’s elbows
As he asked God for his mercy, love and grace

The evening sunshine blinded us through the metal framed windows
As his rosary beads rattled with each passing prayer
We slyly opened our eyes to softly snigger
And to spy the bed dust floating in the air

And now I stand by his six foot mahogany box
And the priest recites the Rosary and anoints his eyes
Time stands still in the packed parlour room
And we slyly open our eyes to cry

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