Author: jan wong (---.server.ntli.net)
Date: 02-22-04 13:48
can you help? i'm looking for a poem to read at my mum's funeral.
thanks jan
Jan, go here:
[tinyurl.com] />
Les
You have my permission to use the following, should it apply. It is titled Grampa, but that shouldn't matter.
Grampa
Death delivered you
like a withered bloom
into the grasp of a tethered moon
A shadow spent
in a sterile room
Into love's arms you slowly crept
and we wept
Jean-Paul Bonhomme
"I "Love Summer more than I hate Winter"
How kind of you, Jean-Paul!
Jan -- if you're still in a bind, tell us something about your mum and we'll see what else we can do.
A friend read this at her mother's funeral a few years ago:
"True, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer,
to use no longer customs scarcely acquired,
not to interpret roses, and other things
that promise so much, in terms of a human future;
to be no longer all that one used to be
in endlessly anxious hands, and to lay aside
even one’s proper name like a broken toy.
Strange, not to go on wishing one’s wishes. Strange,
to see all that was once relation so loosely fluttering
hither and thither in space. And it’s hard, being dead,
and full of retrieving before one begins to perceive
a little eternity. - all of the living, though,
make the mistake of drawing too sharp distinctions.
Angels (it’s said) would be often unable to tell
whether they moved among living or dead. The eternal
torrent whirls all the ages through either realm
for ever, and sounds above their voices in both."
Rainer Maria Rilke, from The First Elegy, The Duino Elegies.
PARTING SONG.
Felicia Hemans
WHEN will ye think of me, my friends?
When will ye think of me?–
When the last red light, the farewell of day,
From the rock and the river is passing away,
When the air with a deep'ning hush is fraught,
And the heart grows burden'd with tender thought–
Then let it be!
When will ye think of me, kind friends?
When will ye think of me?–
When the rose of the rich midsummer time
Is fill'd with the hues of its glorious prime;
When ye gather its bloom, as in bright hours fled,
From the walks where my footsteps no more may tread;
Then let it be!
When will ye think of me, sweet friends?
When will ye think of me?–
When the sudden tears o'erflow your eye
At the sound of some olden melody;
When ye hear the voice of a mountain stream,
When ye feel the charm of a poet's dream;
Then let it be!
Thus let my memory be with you, friends!
Thus ever think of me!
Kindly and gently, but as of one
For whom 'tis well to be fled and gone;
As of a bird from a chain unbound,
As of a wanderer whose home is found;–
So let it be.
I can think of no words more fitting than these when I think of my own departed mother:
Of this bad world the loveliest and best
Has smiled and said "Good Night," and gone to rest.
Hillaire Belloc
"Requiem."
Do not cry for me
I have not gone far,
Only as far as my memory of you
And all of the love that you gave me.
Do not cry for me
As I enter a church for the last time,
As you whisper a few words of comfort
Into the ears of others.
For our hearts will beat together always
For death cannot part us
As life could not.
Goodbye, and thank-you
For all you have given me
For all of the smiles and all of the laughter,
The holding of hands
And the silences.
We will be together, forever,
Wherever we are.
Do not cry for me my darling,
For I have not gone far.
------
Terry Cuthbert
my best friend's funeral is tomorrow and i want to read a poem. where should i go??
To the front of the auditorium. You should find a podium there. You would be less nervous at the rear of the room, but folks either cannot hear you way in the back, or will have to turn around in their seats, which makes them cranky.
Daniel,
Pay no attention to that man behind the screen name "Hugh Clary."
There's not much time, there are JILLIONS of funeral poems out there, and most of them are awful and/or very well known already.
So I suggest that you go one of these two ways:
1. Choose a poem (or a passage from a book) that YOUR FRIEND LIKED, no matter what it's about. If he liked to recite JABBERWOCKY, then read that. It's a sharing of something about him. If his favorite book was THE LORD OF THE RINGS, then read some of that.
2. Choose a poem (or a passage from a book) that expresses something you feel about him and the times you were together. That's a sharing of your friendship.
When I think back over the funerals I've attended, the readings and music that are still in my memory are the ones that were really ABOUT the deceased.
When my friend Bob P. died (at 70-something), his nieces insisted on having Christmas carols sung instead of hymns because Bob loved Christmas carols. I remember and now I think of Bob when I sing "Little Town of Bethlehem." I can't remember WHICH hymns were sung at any other church funeral.
When Rudy B. passed away (at 90-something) his grand-son-in-law gave a eulogy that described RB with "the seven G's." He talked about Rudy as: Grandpa, Gertrude's husband, Gardener, Golfer, and (lover of) God. I'll never forget those.
So for funerals (as for other occasions), I still say that the best readings are the most personal, not the "best" from a literary point of view.
his tears fall from up above
the rain shows my emotions
my saddness of his death
my anger of not sayng goodbye
my gloominess of not seing his smile
I'm looking for a poem called "don't cry for me"
Norma, click on "flat view" just below this post on the left. Then scan up and read the posts above yours.
Les
Looking for a poem--"May I Go Now" or "May I Go" , poem was given at my mother's funeral and I want the poem as a remberance.
May I Go Now?
May I go now?
Do you think the time is right?
May I say goodbye to pain filled days
and endless lonely nights?
I've lived my life and done my best,
an example tried to be.
So can I take that step beyond
and set my spirit free?
I didn't want to go at first,
I fought with all my might.
But something seems to draw me now
to a warm and loving light.
I want to go
I really do.
It's difficult to stay.
But I will try as best I can
to live just one more day.
To give you time to care for me
and share your love and fears.
I know you're sad and afraid,
because I see your tears.
I'll not be far,
I promise that, and hope you'll always know
that my spirit will be close to you
wherever you may go.
Thank you so for loving me.
You know I love you too,
that's why it's hard to say goodbye
and end this life with you.
So hold me now just one more time
and let me hear you say,
because you care so much for me,
you'll let me go today.
By Susan A. Jackson
I am looking for a poem about wildflowers to attach to seeds for my friends funeral. He loved to pick them with his grandaughter.
Please help.
I don't know of any, but I wrote one a while ago for a friend of mine who passed away suddenly and tragically at the age of 21.
WILDFLOWERS
You keep our secret well
With your immortality
I but die your death daily
And while I stop alongside highways
Looking for your face in wildflowers
You sneer down upon me
Protecting me or fighting me.
So it is…….
It is love after all
After all this time yet
Death has come and so I am
At your graveside
With these wildflowers
That will not live through the night.
These lines are from a longer poem called 'On the Meadow' by Finnish Lapland poet Katri Vala.
She was the daughter of a forest ranger, grew up in the country and wrote some lovely poems about flowers, nature etc -
Distance and time glide away.
A boundless meadow. Red flowers
are opening in the twilight:
the endless chain of hearts
circles the round globe of earth.
From beyond the centuries - today
a voice, warm like the earth,
clear like the day, is sounding:
this is the road of life!
I've really been struggling with this one, as I feel I ought to know one that would suit - but I can only come up with Flowers by W H Davies - which is really about garden flowers, or Hedges by Celia Fleming, which might appeal to his granddaughter.
FLOWERS – W H Davies
What favourite flowers are mine, I cannot say –
My fancy changes with the summer’s day.
Sometimes I think, agreeing with the Bees,
That my best flowers are those tall apple trees,
Who give a Bee his cyder while in bloom,
And keep me waiting till their apples come.
Sometimes I think the Columbine has won,
Who hangs her head and never looks the Sun
Straight in the face . And now the Golden Rod
Beckons me over with a graceful nod;
Shaped like a sheaf of corn, her ruddy skin
Drinks the Sun dry, and leaves his splendour thin.
Sometimes I think the Rose must have her place –
And then the Lily shakes her golden dice
Deep in a silver cup, to win or lose.
So I go on, from Columbine to Rose,
From Marigold to Flock, from Flock to Thrift –
Till nothing but my garden stones are left,
But when I see the dimples in her face,
All filled with tender moss in every place –
Ah, then I think, when all is said and done,
My favourite flower must be a Mossy Stone
HEDGES Celia Fleming
My name is Ragged Robin
And I run between the grasses
To meet my Morning Glory in the lane,
And the tall and tangled Tansy
Shouts “Good Morning” to the Pansy
And there’s always scented Thyme and Thyme again.
My name is Ragged Robin
And I look for little animals
Like Dandelion with yellow, shaggy mane
And the Dog Roses and Catstails
Mock the Harebells and the Ratstails
And there’s always scented Thyme and Thyme again.
They call me Ragged Robin
And I weave among the Soldiers
Standing steadfast and impressive in the rain.
And I comfort Creeping Jenny
With a gracious Royal Penny,
And there’s always scented Thyme and Thyme again.
Oh, I’m only Ragged Robin
So I bow to Lords and Ladies
Who have Common Butterworts to hold their train,
And that vulgar Rose of Sharon
Tells the Spurge to keep his hair on
And there’s always scented Thyme and Thyme again.
I am known as Ragged Robin,
And at night-time I get frightened,
There are Arrowheads and Hemlock and Henbane,
So I pull my Bedstraw over
And I creep up close to Clover
And I breathe the scented Thyme and Thyme again.
A poem was read at my grandmother's funeral. I cant find it please help!! that has the line "dont weep for me long'' which is repeated several times
That was a lovely little poem you wrote, Talia. The only word I wish were different is 'sneer'. Seems too hostile in the context. Evidently there was some 'fighting' in the relationship. Would 'frown' or 'glare' or 'grimace' or 'grin' cover the nuances?
Regardless, a moving tribute.
Post Edited (09-11-04 20:45)
dont weep for me long
dont weep for me long
dont weep for me long
Im looking for a poem that can be from a daughter to her father can u help?
There are many to choose from, check through some of these:
[www.google.com] />
Les
I would like to read a poem at my Nans funeral and included i'd like to mention the fact that she has been reunited with my Grandad.Please can you tell me if there is such a poem.
Thankyou
Should you go first and I remain
To walk the road alone,
I'll live in memory's garden, dear,
With happy days we've known.
In Spring I'll wait for roses red,
When fades the lilac blue,
In early Fall, when brown leaves call
I'll catch a glimpse of you.
Should you go first and I remain
For battles to be fought,
Each thing you've touched along the way
Will be a hallowed spot.
I'll hear your voice, I'll see your smile,
though blindly I may grope,
The memory of your helping hand
Will buoy me on with hope.
Should you go first and I remain
To finish with the scroll,
No length'ning shadows shall creep in
To make this life seem droll.
We've known so much of happiness,
We've had our cup of joy,
And memory is one gift of God
That death cannot destroy.
Should you go first and I remain,
One thing I'd have to do;
Walk slowly down that long, lone path,
For soon I'll follow you.
I'll want to know each step you take
That I may walk the same,
For some day down that lonely road
You'll hear me call your name.
--A.K. Roswell
Raewyn, click on "flat view" below your post and view the posts above yours.
Les
something that talks about losing a friend
Hello. Just wondered if you could help me I would like to read a poem at my grandads funeral, who was very special to me.
Thank you
Susie
i dont know if this is the one you wanted but it just might also be.
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
please can you send me some poems to read at my grandads funeral
please could you send me some poems to read at my grandads funeral
Daniel, click on "flat view" below this post and read through the suggestions here. Use the "cut" and "paste" features on your computer to download the poems you like.
Les
Does anybody know of a funeral poem that is appropriate for an outdoorman, hunter, and fisherman?
can some1 help me think of a poem to read at my grandpas funeral... if u have a good one can u please e-mail it 2 me at bigbootiimama@aol.com... thanx
could anyone give me a poem to read at the burial of my mothers ashes. just want to let her know that she will allways be remembered and never forgot
There are lots above, just click on flat view (below this post) and browse through them.
Have you considered playing a song? Check out
"Half a Moment" on Sarah Brightman's CD---
The Songs That Got Away.
I'm sorry about your loss.
Lisa
I'm a funeral celebrant working in England and would love to find a poem suitable for a father to read for his 16 year son who sadly was killed on his bike. Doesn't have to be funeral poem.
Any ideas, thankyou.
Perhaps more suitable for a younger child: The Child Dying by Edwin Muir
Hi There,
My Step - mother passed away on Jan. 7th. and then the day after we buried her, my brother passed away. Jan 13th. He passed away very suddenly at the age of 31. Drugs were involved in his death. I am trying very hard to find a poem to put on his service card. My family is having a hard time, since this is the second funeral in two weeks, we need help with this one. I just want a poem that explains how hes okay now but he will be missed. Please help. Thank you.
Here are a couple of songs from the musical Big River. Perhaps part of one would do.
YOU OUGHTA BE HERE WITH ME
If you think it's lonesome where you are tonight
Then you oughta be here with me
If you think there's heartaches where you are tonight
Then you oughta be here with me
CHORUS:
Because with you I'm whole, without you I'm cold
So if you think about me where you are tonight
Then you oughta be here with me
If teardrops are falling where you are tonight
Then you oughta be here with me
Loneliness calling where you are tonight
Then you oughta be here with me
CHORUS:
Because with you I'm whole, without you I'm cold
So if you think about me where you are tonight
Then you oughta be here with me
LEAVIN'S NOT THE ONLY WAY TO G0
Did the morning come too early
Was the night not long enough
Does a tear of hesitation
Fall on everything you touch
Well, it might just be a lesson
For the hasty heart to know
Maybe leavin's not the only way to go
Maybe lay and let your feelings grow accustomed to the dark
Maybe morning's light, you just might solve the problems of the heart
And it all might be a lesson for the hasty heart to know
Maybe leavin's not the only way to go
People reach new understandings all the lime
They take a second look, maybe change their minds
People reach new understandings everyday
Tell me not to reach and I'll go away
Did the morning come too early
Was the night not long enough
Does a tear of hesitation
Fall on everything you touch
Well, it might just be a lesson
For the hasty heart to know
Maybe leavin's not the only way to go
And a heart without a home is such a lonesome row to hoe
Maybe leavin's not the only way to go
pam
RJ - what a beautiful and moving poem
The Child Dying
---Edwin Muir
Unfriendly friendly universe,
I pack your stars into my purse,
And bid you so farewell.
That I can leave you, quite go out,
Go out, go out beyond all doubt,
My father says, is the miracle.
You are so great, and I so small:
I am nothing, you are all:
Being nothing, I can take this way.
Oh I need neither rise nor fall,
For when I do not move at all
I shall be out of all your day.
It's said some memory will remain
In the other place, grass in the rain,
Light on the land, sun on the sea,
A flitting grace, a phantom face,
But the world is out. There is not place
Where it and its ghost can ever be.
Father, father, I dread this air
Blown from the far side of despair
The cold cold corner. What house, what hold,
What hand is there? I look and see
Nothing-filled eternity,
And the great round world grows weak and old.
Hold my hand, oh hold it fast-
I am changing! - until at last
My hand in yours no more will change,
Though yours change on. You here, I there,
So hand in hand, twin-leafed despair -
I did not know death was so strange.
Les
My dad died last week and I would like to read find a poem that expresses a daughter's undying love for her dad. Can anyone help me?
Many thanks
Dena
Read Li Young Lee's poem
"The Gift"
it's beautiful.
I'm sorry for your loss,
Lisa
Read Li Young Lee's poem "The Gift"
[www.indiana.edu]
Thanks for finding that Hugh.
Reading it, made me cry once again.
Lisa
LIVE IN THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. THAT THE NAME OF THE POEM I'M LOOK FOR I DOIN'T KNOW WHO WROTE IT. CAN MANY ONE HELPME FINE THIS POEM.
This one?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The House with Nobody in It
by Joyce Kilmer
Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.
This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.
If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.
I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.
Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,
Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.
But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known.
But a house that has done what a house should do,
a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.
So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.
Les
or maybe this one?
The House by the Side of the Road
There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the peace of their self-content;
There are souls, like stars, that swell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
Where highways never ran;
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by;
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban;
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
I see from my house by the side of the road,
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears
Both parts of an infinite plan;
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by;
They are good, they are bad, they are weak,
They are strong,
Wise, foolish - so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat
Or hurl the cynic's ban? -
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Sam Walter Foss (1858-1911)
can you help? i'm looking for a poetry "funeral song" thanks
Hugh, I have a funeral in a couple of hours... Do you know the one about " is this the right road home O Lord" Something like the sky are irie and dark at the end the lord assures the traveler it is the right road home.. Thanks
IS THIS THE RIGHT ROAD HOME?
--- Rosalind Goforth
Is this the right road home, O Lord?
The clouds are dark and still,
The stony path is hard to tread,
Each step brings some fresh ill.
I thought the way would brighter grow,
And that the sun with warmth would glow,
And joyous songs from free hearts flow.
Is this the right road home?
Yes, child, this very path I trod,
The clouds were dark for Me,
The stony path was sharp and hard.
Not sight but faith could see
That at the end the sun shines bright,
Forever where there is no night,
And glad hearts rest from earth's fierce fight,
It IS the Right Road Home!
Les
God called her and she took his hand
we wanted her to stay that was our demand
no one knows why he chose a good flower
who knows our day our our reason our hour
i'm pretty sure heavens a pretty place
i know one thing this is a christian race
when you bloom as a flower and your time has come
he calls you whenever you have filled the cup
the cup of goodness kindess grace and love
God called her and she took his hand
we wanted her to stay that was our demand
no one knows why he chose a good flower
who knows our day our our reason our hour
i'm pretty sure heavens a pretty place
i know one thing this is a christian race
when you bloom as a flower and your time has come
he calls you whenever you have filled the cup
the cup of goodness kindess grace and loveMarian-NYC wrote:
How kind of you, Jean-Paul!
Jan -- if you're still in a bind, tell us something about your
mum and we'll see what else we can do.
Does anyone know a poem which more or less says 'do not grieve for me,
I am still here but just not in this room'. Would be grateful if anyone knows which one I mean. Thanks.
This one?:
DEATH IS NOTHING AT ALL by Henry Scott Holland
1847 -1918
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped away
into the next room.
I am I,
and you are you;
whatever we were to each other,
that, we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
speak to me in the easy way
which you always used,
put no difference in your tone,
wear no forced air
of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we shared together.
Let my name ever be
the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all
that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.
All is well.
Or perhaps this?:
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
I am looking for a poem that talks about leaving one shore and then being received on the other shore. does anyone know the name of this poem?
im looking for a funeral poem i can read at my gradpa's funeral i am also looking for a poem my mom can read for her dad at his funeral. please id you can help
Miranda- click on flat view below and scroll through the posts - there are lots to choose from.
Jerry - is this it?
A Parable of Immortality by Henry Von Dyke
"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch until at last she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says, 'There she goes!'
Gone where? Gone from my sight ... that is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, 'There she goes!' there are other eyes watching her coming and their voices ready to take up the glad shouts 'Here she comes!'"
i am looking for a poem that i have heard before about a ship disappearing into the horizon, yet still there in all it's glory...just out of our view. anyone familiar with this poem?
Katie - it's on the post above yours, just click on flat view and go up one.
I am looking for a poem for two great granddaughters to read about their grandmother.
Erat Hora
(latin for there was an hour)
"Thank you, whatever comes." And then she turned
And, as the ray of sun on hanging flowers
Fades when the wind hath lifted them aside,
Went swiftly from me. Nay, whatever comes
One hour was sunlit and the most high gods
May not make boast of any better thing
than to have watched that hour as it passed.
Ezra Pound
My grandfather just passed away last Saturday. I'm trying to find a simple poem to read at his services.
Can you recommend any?
Hi ya, i am doing a performing arts exam at school, and i have to read out a poem about losing a friend in a car crash, do u have any suggestions?
Please.
Sophie Purvis
Sophie, go here:
[www.geocities.com] />
Les
There's one here:
[www.netpoets.com] />
and one here:
[100-poems.com] />
and another here:
[www.csudh.edu] />
You can find lots by searching for [poem + "car crash"] but many of them are personal expressions of grief that may not have the particular qualities you're looking for as a reading.
Good luck. If you find a great one, please let us know.
Sophie, if a song lyric would be easier, there is one called 'Just One of Those Days' by Al Stewart - can't find the words online, but someone else here probably could. It has some scope for a dramatic reading.
IM LOOKING FOR A POEM TO A FATHER FROM A SISTER AND BROTHERS TO PUT ON THE HEADSTONE
I am looking for a poem to say goodbye to a female friend. I would like to read at her funeral. any help please
Joanne and Lesley, please click on flat view, and read the posts above. You can also try to do a search on funeral. Let us know if you can't find anything you like.
Friend, You are free to read & share this poem... adding name(s) of who you dearly love and miss.... With best wishes for healing from AveryLuke210...
THIS GIFT OF MISSING YOU . . .Written 1-31-2003, by candlelight in barn
Shared at AME Church, in memory of JamesBrooks, 2/1 The day Columbia 7 departed:
It was a gift we didn't want,
this Gift of missing you . . .
wanting & wanting & wanting you to be well,
to be happy, to be here with us.
It was a gift we didn't want,
this gift of longing to remember you clearly, radiant with joy..
longing & longing & longing to see you again,
to hold your hand in our hand, your heart with our heart.
It was a gift we didn't want,
this vacancy we feel, like a hotel,
with too many rooms, empty.
Gone, gone, gone. People keep going. . . .
But where do they go? They go to GOD!
The Infinite Source of Wisdom & Wonder!
Wow! We are refreshed when we remember now!
All life comes from GOD, and there returns,
and GOD is everywhere! Zing! In an instant
we see flashes of your Hope and your Joy and your Beauty!
All the rest falls away, so what we have left
is love. Your love here abides with us, _______________,
and ________________, we are there with you, with our love.
Copyright ©2005 Toh-Michi-Yan-Go W. AveryLuke210Zing! Giving-All-Glory-To-GOD P.O. Box 131 Knoxville, Maryland 21758-0131 USA
Please help me find suitable words for an aunt who died at the age og 94
Thanks
Congratulations?
I am looking for a poetry to read on my grandmother's funeral can you help me please
You probably got a copy of this back in March - but just in case you didn't.
Graeme in australia
Gone From My Sight
I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other
Then someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!"
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad
shout,
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying
Henry Van Dyke
My most beloved aunt just passed away after a long illness. I searched everywhere for an appropriate poem to read and had such a difficult time finding just the right one. I finally found it, and thought I'd post it for people to use.
God looked around his garden,
And saw an empty place.
He then looked down from heaven,
And saw your tired face.
He knew that you were suffering,
And a cure was not to be.
So he put his arms around you,
And whispered,"Come with me."
With tearful eyes we watched you,
As you slowly slipped away.
And though we loved you dearly,
We could not make you stay.
Many times we've needed you,
And many times we've cried.
If love could have saved you,
You never would have died.
--Anonymous--
I am looking for an appropriate poem to read at my nanna's funeral who sadly died last night in her sleep after a long period of suffering Alzheimers Disease. She was called Rose.
There are lots of really good poems for funerals in the posts above yours. so have a good browse. A couple of other ideas are: Names (below) has always struck me as appropriate for women, esp those who've suffered from Alzheimers - we change names and roles so often through life:
Names
She was Eliza for a few weeks
When she was a baby-
Eliza Lily. Soon it changed to Lil.
Later she was Miss Steward in the baker's shop
And then 'my love', 'my darling', Mother.
Widowed at thirty, she went back to work
As Mrs Hand. Her daughter grew up,
Married and gave birth.
Now she was Nanna. "Everybody
Calls me Nanna," she would say to visitors.
And so they did-friends, tradesmen, the doctor.
In the geriatric ward
They used the patients' Christian names.
"Lil," we said, "or Nanna,"
But it wasn't in her file
And for those last bewildered weeks
She was Eliza once again.
Wendy Cope
Another unusual one, considering your nanna's name would be 'The Funeral Rites of the Rose' by Robert Herrick
The Funeral Rites of the Rose
THE Rose was sick and smiling died;
And, being to be sanctified,
About the bed there sighing stood
The sweet and flowery sisterhood:
Some hung the head, while some did bring, 5
To wash her, water from the spring;
Some laid her forth, while others wept,
But all a solemn fast there kept:
The holy sisters, some among,
The sacred dirge and trental sung. 10
But ah! what sweet smelt everywhere,
As Heaven had spent all perfumes there.
At last, when prayers for the dead
And rites were all accomplishèd,
They, weeping, spread a lawny loom, 15
And closed her up as in a tomb.
My all-time favourite for funerals is Guarantee by Phil Oakley, but it like all good poems, it only works for some people.
GUARANTEE Philip Oakes
You are veined like a leaf.
Babies have tenderised your breasts,
Munching the tissues with their bony gums.
Your fingers are scored
By chopping knives, the oven door,
Hot fat, and rose thorns.
No one would call
You beautiful. Your hair is brindled
By time and weather,
Your skin is foxed
Like a first edition, You show
Distinct signs of wear and tear.
Cats sleep in your lap,
Children come to have their noses blown.
You keep secrets like a strong box.
You are not for special
Occasions, but for everyday. You have
The virtues of denim, wholemeal, and worsted.
You are durable,
You bring words out of storage,
And on your lips they do not sound strange.
Love, duty, service:
Sturdier than slipware, but with the same
Patina, the same hair-line cracks.
In your house, though,
They are for use and not display.
They are not allowed to gather dust,
You are not one
For ornaments. They break easily
Or get in the way.
You prefer shelves, tables,
Lives to be uncluttered. Without distraction
Wood shows its grain, glass its sparkle.
You are happiest
When nothing goes remarked, and celebration
Is the act itself.
You are patient with people,
And implements, you can tie knots,
And start engines. Vegetables grow for you.
I will not praise you, beyond saying
That you are able, amiable, and welcome.
You meet all guarantees. You are as promised.
Another possible poem for a lady named Rose is the song 'Tis the Last Rose of Summer by Thomas Moore
'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming all alone,
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone.
No flower of her kindred,
No rose bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep thou with them;
'Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow
When friendships decay,
And from love's shining circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 07/07/2021 03:51AM by marian2.
Marissa Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
My most beloved aunt just passed away after a long
illness. I searched everywhere for an appropriate
poem to read and had such a difficult time finding
just the right one. I finally found it, and
thought I'd post it for people to use.
God looked around his garden,
And saw an empty place.
He then looked down from heaven,
And saw your tired face.
He knew that you were suffering,
And a cure was not to be.
So he put his arms around you,
And whispered,"Come with me."
With tearful eyes we watched you,
As you slowly slipped away.
And though we loved you dearly,
We could not make you stay.
Many times we've needed you,
And many times we've cried.
If love could have saved you,
You never would have died.
--Anonymous--
I would like help, my best friend, the most precious person to me in the wrold has died. i want to read a poem that is from me to her at her funeral. something touching and deep. thanks
I'm sorry for your loss Dane. If you read the posts above, there are quite some suggestions. But maybe it is also nice to write something yourself?
<br />
looking for a poem for our mothers funeral
Marian
I did not know GUARANTEE by Philip Oakes, it is one of the most beautiful poems I have ever read !
It makes one want to cry.
Dear Joann, I'm very sorry for your loss. There is quite some poems in this thread (you can go to your control centre and click on "flat view" which will enable you to read them all in an easy way). Is there anything that you like?
Glad you like it, Ilza - it's one I go back to again and again.
I'm looking for a poem like Jerry was asking about, but I think the words are different. My mom wants it at her funeral, which will probably be soon. She's having a hard time talking, but said the words were like "when you die, and friends are gathered at the shore to say goodbye, and then something about when your ship "arrives on the other side, there will be someone to say hello". Does this sound familiar to anyone? I think she saw it in Dear Abby or Ann Landers or something like that. So grateful to anyone who can help.
The Watcher
by Margaret Widdemer
She always leaned to watch for us,
Anxious if we were late,
In winter by the window,
In summer by the gate.
And though we mocked her tenderly,
Who had such foolish care,
The long way home would seem more safe
Because she waited there.
Her thoughts were all so full of us,
She never could forget!
And so I think that where she is
She must be watching yet.
Waiting till we come home to her,
Anxious if we are late,
Watching from Heaven's window,
Leaning on Heaven's gate.
Diane - Have a look at the posting above by Graeme MacRobb dated June 26, 2005.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/17/2005 02:08AM by StephenFryer.
Recently someone reminded me that "the choir invisible" is a phrase that goes back WAY before Monty Python. I looked it up.
It's in a poem by George Eliot, which is posted (many places, including) at [www.motherbird.com] />
I might want that at my own funeral. It says "I hope when I'm gone there are people out there who are better in some way because I lived."
Marian