Grey was the sky, the day of the funeral.
Black were the clothes which everyone wore .
Blue was the mood of family and friends.
Purple was the face of the aged preacher.
White were the cassocks of the choir boys whose soprano voices soared to the rafters.
Green was the colour on which I visualised to calm myself.
Red, Orange and yellow were the flowers which emblazoned her coffin.
Grey remained the colour of the sky as we walked at a snail's pace to the open grave.
Blue were the forget-me-nots I threw into the grave. I knew I would never forget her.
The sky remained grey as we walked away to the sound of the slow chiming bell which augmented the melancholy of the mourners as I returned to my life without her.
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