Bolivar Funeral Home


At the Bolivar Funeral Home

The wake is filled with family and friends

So many broken hearts, so many falling tears

A mother, sister, teacher,—friend

Has fallen well before her years


I vividly remember the pastor saying

Although this is a saddened day

Dread not, she’s in a better place


Let us mourn this day

But tomorrow, let us celebrate her life

It may feel now, as if things are chaotic and out of order


You may want to sing that old bitter mantra

“That this is just not right”

But I want you to know; God is still in control of our lives


That’s when it happened

A little girl’s loud cries

It was Lisa, it was her only child


She ran to the casket yelling “don’t leave me Momma

I’ll be good; I’ll eat all vegetables, even clean up my room

Don’t leave Momma; I’ll be your good little girl

Get up, let’s go home— don’t leave me alone”


Even the preacher was taken aback

I could swear I heard the whispers beneath his breath

Questioning thy Lord Himself



 From the book” Writers of Words