Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page

Last Fall I attended an All Souls Night Mass, as I have done every year, for the past fifty years or so. This time there was something different, but I wasn't quite sure how to express it. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on, so I brushed the thought aside and carried on.

A few days ago, a local business manager, Bronwyn Cross, was in our office. During the course of conversation we congratulated her on the arrival of her new granddaughter. Bronwyn explained she missed seeing her family growing up and it was the reason she would soon be returning to her native New Zealand, "after all" she explained "grandparents are the new old people". Then it struck me, what I had missed on All Souls Night.

All Souls Night

Not an old person here tonight,
Where we've gathered to kneel and pray,
Pray for the dead by candlelight,
In church, at the end of the day.

Where we've gathered to kneel and pray,
We've always had old people here,
In church at the end of the day,
The last autumn day of the year.

We've always had old people here,
I look at my wife, with a sigh,
The last autumn day of the year,
Oh there must be a reason why?

I look at my wife, with a sigh,
Our children don't notice at all,
Oh there must be a reason why?
Our grandchildren growing so tall!

Our children don't notice at all,
Pray for the dead by candlelight,
Our grandchildren growing so tall,
Not an old person here tonight.

© Ronnie McGinn