Between bath-towels and clean sheets

[Tiger the Lion]

Hey Johnny, quite enjoying this. I'll see if I can be of any help.

Hey all, thought I would stop beating around the bush and jump straight into the fire. Very glad to be here and hopefully you'll feel the same way too. Johnny

Revision#1

Between bath-towels and clean sheets

When granny died
I was fifteen she not quite sixty,
so young to go in this day
and age, though that
was almost thirteen years ago "almost" and "Come May" don't live well together. The first sounds vague, the second more exact. Consider striking one or the other
come May.
Not sure of the day, if you’d ask ma
she’d know. Guess I couldn’t bear
to see Granny crumpled up
like a sick person, a
woman of great
presence until then.

Instead,
we played cricket that day,
me and my pals; and when we not sure about the semi-colon here. If you stick with it "and" is not needed
became too tired we sat and wolfed down
Ham and cheese sandwiches, with cans of Just me, but I want something more memorable than Ham and cheese here. Some thing to complement the bass shandy
bass shandy, bitter on the tongue.
For afters pears picked from Granny’s tree, remove this comma and place it after "afters"
and ripened in her airing cupboard
between bath towels and
clean sheets, while

Ma sat with Da
and Granda
and her sister, my Aunt.
Counting down the seconds not sure why this line is a new and fragmented sentence
in tears unspent—

Granny’s death played
out to raised voices,
ignorant of the fact that the ears
are the last thing to go. 
 
Auntie confusingly short line. Looks more important than it is. Consider moving up "didn't like Ma"
didn’t like Ma and blamed her
for Granny’s death,
like Ma had some sort of power
over the cancer.

While Da
fetched cups of tea
cold by the time
the anger was spent,
and all the while bemused, Granda
sat praying.

To who?
At this point who cared?

“WHO?
GAVE A FLYING FUCK, WHERE
HER SALVATION CAME
FROM RIGHT NOW?” I think the expletive does enough work that the CAPS are unnecessary 

as her hand in his grew
colder to the touch, although
she’d always had cold hands,
wishing that’d they could hav...

I can’t say why this
has come to mind almost
thirteen years on come May, there's "almost/come May" again. Pick the one you struck in the first strophe. 
but I’d wager eating pears is
what does it.

No longer
picked from
Granny’s tree
but still ripened
in the airing cupboard
between bath-towels
and clean sheets.




Original
Between bath-towels and clean sheets

When granny died
I was fifteen she almost sixty,
so young to go in this day
and age, though that
was almost thirteen years ago
come May. It was a Tuesday or maybe
a Wednesday, if you’d ask my ma
she’d know. I couldn’t bear
to see Granny crumpled up
like a sick person takin Last Rites,
or whatever it is Christians
do when they’re just about
to return to God?
Instead,
we played cricket that day,
me and my pals; sweat an excuse
for tears and when we
became too tired we sat down
picnicking on the square
just outside the crease,
whites with grass stains
on the ass cheeks. Lunch consisting of;
ham and cheese sandwiches,
the crusts cut off,
washed down with cans of
bass shandy, bitter on the tongue
and for afters pears
grown on Granny’s own tree,
ripened in her airing cupboard
between bath towels and
clean sheets, while
Ma sat with Da
and Granda
and her sister, my Aunt.
Counting down the seconds
in tears unspent— they came later,
too soon then, the wounds too fresh.
Instead her death was played
out to raised voices,
or at least that’s what I was told,
ignorant of the fact that the ears
are the last thing to go. Auntie
didn’t like Ma and blamed her
for Granny’s death,
like she had some sort of power
over the cancer. While Da
fetched cups of tea too sweet
and cold by the time
the anger was spent,
and all the while bemused Granda
sat praying, to who?
At this point who cared?
The Holy Bible had only brought
them this far and having already
reached bargaining, he would have
sacrificed his faith in this instant
because
“WHO?
GAVE A FLYING FUCK, WHERE
HER SALVATION CAME
FROM RIGHT NOW?”
as her hand in his grew
colder to the touch, although
she’d always had cold hands,
wishing that’d they could hav...
I can’t say why this
has come to mind almost
thirteen years on come May,
but Ma only ever brings her
up on birthdays and
after that we forget again,
but I’d wager eating pears is
what does it.
No longer
picked from
Granny’s own tree
but still ripened
in the airing cupboard
between bath-towels
and clean sheets.

I prefer the piece broken up into verses, but I think you should consider some of the line breaks again. There are a number of short lines that don't need to be.

Good luck with this and don't feel like you need to edit too quickly. It's your poem, not ours.
Paul