from the Baker's Dozen - prompt - base on a famous poem

Based on a famous poem

W. H. Auden: The Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Bye Bye Bill, My Baby Brother Bye Bye

Stop all the noise, the reality shows, and junk TV

Make quiet talk radio, and all sounds that get to me

Hush all traffic and marching bands, the piper too

Give me peace to think of what it is I need to do

Let all the birds fly far overhead but in silence now

Make clouds part but the sun not shine nor know how

Dress deer, moose and wolf in shades of grey and black

Tell all who knew, that you will not be coming back

You were my baby brother once and even now you see

It strikes me as cruel and unfair for you to go without me

For once we were as close as heart to beat and blood to vein

I thought I had forever; I was wrong, I’ll not see you again

The aurora will not dance for me nor do I want her to

So close those shimmery drapes, I’ll call the moon up for you

Drain the lakes of all the diamond waves and close the night

Leave Luna with me to grieve and shut all else from my sight