MY AUNT AMELIA'S IN HEAVEN

The church was crowded with her friends when my Auntie Amelia died.
They sang their hymns and prayed their prayers and gave grateful thanks
that she had lived, and in living had touched their lives.
Sweet Aunt Amelia Jones.
How little did they know.
They couldn't have known that as she grew older,
she and the god looking over her shoulder
had become increasingly choosey
as to who might get to heaven.
After a very few minutes in conversation,
Aunt Amelia and her god could detect the flaws
in what they believed,
and their names were off the list.
She liked them as people, of course.
Liked them?
We should get it straight: she loved them.
Her greetings and her smile said "I love you, my dear"
but behind them she hid a narrow-eyed scowl
as once again they were judged,
and the sentence was confirmed.
She was kindness itself to these people she'd doomed,
but sometimes she released a remark
which reflected her true contempt,
and not expecting to find a spear in their chest,
people were most surprised.
When Aunt Amelia died, she went to heaven
- and no-one else was there.