Poem/reading for a funeral

BeenieCat

Quote wrote: »

I wrote this for my Dad's funeral.

Brilliant. :T

Becles

My friend wrote this while he was fighting cancer. Sadly the cancer won.

http://www.readytogo.net/blogs/hazey/1379/poem+%28well%2C+it+isn%26%23039%3Bt+really+I+don%26%23039%3Bt+think%2C+more+like+a+little%2C+err%2C+thing%29.html

mary-op

Not sure if this will be what you want but I had it at Mums funeral -it was a verse she'd found somewhere and written out carefully so it obviously meant something.

The Gate

It is old and small and mellowed by time
It's voice no more than a creak
What tales and laughter and tears would unfold
If only that gate could speak.

For it guards the path to the grey stone church
And though fashioned from common wood
It has felt the touch of gentle hands
Of the great, the humble and good.

It has smiled on many a bridle pair
In the springtime of their day
And unbeknbown to the human throng
Has blessed them on their way

It has watched the mourners slowly pass
And prayed that soon, or late
They may find the ones they have loved on earth
Waiting at Heavens gate

k2tog

I read this at my wonderful Nan's funeral. We found it in a drawer at her house and she had written it out so it obviously meant something to her.

Though I am dead, grieve not for me with tears
Think not of death with sorrowing and fears
I am so near that every tear you shed
Touches and torments me though you think me dead
But when you sing and laugh in glad delight
My soul is uplifted to the light
laugh and be glad for all that life is giving
And I, though dead, will share your joy in living.

Anon

Sorry for your loss.

jamtart6

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.

or we had the following read but changed it to be "brother"/"dad"/"grandad" where appropriate

Legacy of Love.

A wife, a mother, a grandma too,
This is the legacy we have from you.
You taught us love and how to fight,
You gave us strength, you gave us might.
A stronger person would be hard to find,
And in your heart, you were always kind.
You fought for us all in one way or another,
Not just as a wife not just as a mother.
For all of us you gave your best,
Now the time has come for you to rest.
So go in peace, you've earned your sleep,
Your love in our hearts, we'll eternally keep.

margaretclare

meeps wrote: »

I have got dibs on this one.. (sorry if that sounds insensitive, we keep the topic lighthearted in my family)

[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]When I am Dead, My Dearest [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]by Christina Georgina Rossetti
(1830-1894) [/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget. [/FONT]

Oh yes. This is one of my favourites too.

And also this:

[SIZE=+1]Fear no more the heat o' the sun
[/SIZE] Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.


Fear no more the frown o' the great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.


Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exerciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing will come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!
[SIZE=-1](Cymbeline, IV, 2)[/SIZE]

k2tog

Found this site, hope it's of use

http://www.poeticexpressions.co.uk/default.htm

cazxx1

stop it you lot your making me cry xx

sandy2_2

I like these two
When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little but not for long and
Not with your head bowed low
Remember the cuddles that once we shared
Miss me but let me go.

and
‘’Walk with in you’’ Taken from The Smoke Jumper by Nicholas Evans

If I be the first of us to die,
Let grief not blacken long your sky.
Be bold yet modest in your grieving.
There is a change but not my leaving.
For us death is part of life,
The dead live forever in the living.
And all the gathered riches of our journey,
The moments shared, the mysteries explored,
The steady layering of intimacy stored
The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,
The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring
The wordless language of look and touch,
The knowing,
Each giving and each taking,
These are not flowers that fade,
Nor trees that fall and crumble,
Nor are they stone,
For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand
And might mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.
What we were, we are
What we had, we have.
A cojoined past imperishably present.
So when you walk the woods where once we walked
together
And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my
shadow,
Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze
across the land,
And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand
And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,
Be still.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
Listen for my footfall in your heart
I am not gone but merely walk within you

swampduck

I am standing on the sea shore,
A ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her
Till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says:
"She is gone."

Gone! Where?
Gone from my sight, that is all.
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me,
not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says,
"She is gone",
There are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout:
"There she comes"
- and that is dying. An horizon and just the limit of our sight.
Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further.

My daughter read this at her Grandads' (my dads') funeral - his anniversary was today. This was really appropriate to him as he was seaman who worked his way up through the ranks to command his own ships until he retired. Six years on I still miss him but these lovely verses have been a poignant reminder. I have another one somewhere which was similarly appropriate for my Mum as she was a lady who was always doing things for other people. If I can find it I will edit my post for you.

Swampy

I shall pass through this world but once.
Any good therefore that I can do
or any kindness that I can show
to any human being
let me do it now.
Let me not defer or neglect it
for I shall not pass this way again.