Dust Poem by Norman E Dale

Is there someone under my bed?
There's lots of dust, Mum said,
When Grandad died last year,
I never cried a tear,
just sobbed a bit, Mum held me tight,
and said she wouldn't turn out the light.
I was'nt scared, Mum said I'm brave,
but she would'nt let me visit the grave.

Who is it under my bed?
There's a lot of dust, Mum said,
And in the Bible when we die,
we turn to dust and in dust we lie.
So if it's true just like they said,
it might be Grandad under my bed.
I am a bit scared, tho' I won't hide my face,
but I won't look under, just in case.