Funeral Poem for Vegetable Gardener/Farmer

whitewing

I have googled galore but found nothing suitable. I am looking for a poem or some prose relating to vegetable gardening, or the countryside, or farming that can be read at a funeral. Something beautifully written and suitable for a much-loved gentleman with old-fashioned values.

Any suggestions will be much appreciated. Thank you.

Sarahjovi

I had a quick google (Gardening Poems) and found this that could possibly be adapted!

Memorial
I've had the garden tidied up,
As she would have me do.
This little pal who couldn't stay
To see the season through.
The flowers were her dearest friends,
The garden was her own,
I've watched her work, but never knew
The things that she had grown.
Her, catalogues keep coming, and
Her garden magazine;
I run across the queerest names,
And study what they mean,
I read them all, from end to end,
And when the spring is here,
I'll have a garden just like hers,
As though my wife were near.
Albert H. PEDRICK

In fact theres quite a few poems on the page http://www.backyardgardener.com/poem/index.html

Sarah:D

LindseyM

not sure if this would work for you, but i really like this one:

Garden Meditation by Rev. Max Coots


Let us give thanks for a bounty of people.

For children who are our second planting, and though they
grow like weeds and the wind too soon blows them away, may
they forgive us our cultivation and fondly remember where
their roots are.

Let us give thanks;

For generous friends...with hearts...and smiles as bright
as their blossoms;

For feisty friends, as tart as apples;

For continuous friends, who, like scallions and cucumbers,
keep reminding us that we've had them;

For crotchety friends, sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;

For handsome friends, who are as gorgeous as eggplants and
as elegant as a row of corn, and the others, as plain as
potatoes and so good for you;

For funny friends, who are as silly as Brussels sprouts and
as amusing as Jerusalem artichokes;

And serious friends as unpretentious as cabbages, as subtle
as summer squash, as persistent as parsley, as delightful as
dill, as endless as zucchini and who, like parsnips, can be
counted on to see you through the winter;

For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time,
and young friends coming on as fast as radishes;

For loving friends, who wind around us like tendrils and hold
us, despite our blights, wilts and witherings;

And finally, for those friends now gone, like gardens past
that have been harvested, but who fed us in their times that
we might have life thereafter.

For all these we give thanks

Sorrt to hear of your loss, good luck on your search :A

V_Chic_Chick

You said he was a farmer, so if he kept chickens, then this might be appropriate -

All I Need To Know In Life I Learned From My Chickens
by Michaele Oleson

Wake up early, stay busy
Rest when you need to, but always stay alert
Visit you favourite places every day
Scratch out a living
Routine is good
Plump is good
Don't ponder your purpose in life - your brain is too small
Accept the pecking order and know you enemies
Weed your garden
Look after your children
- Sit on them if necessary
- Take them for walks, show them the little things and talk constantly
Make a nice nest - share it with friends
Brag on your accomplishments
Protect your nest egg
Test your wings once in a while
Squawk when necessary
As you age, demand respect
Leave a little something for those who care about you
Chase butterflies

Jake'sGran

Whitewing, I too have Googled to find something suitable and I have asked on another forum (not MSE) where they are all growers of veg - all sorts of things. Meanwhile, you could try Walt Whitman and Robert Frost and see if they have written anything suitable.

Jake'sGran

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Whitewing, me again. The above was suggested on the other forum:

Fen1

Rudyard Kipling


The Glory of the Garden
Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;
But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye.

For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,
You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of
all ;
The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks:
The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the
planks.

And there you'll see the gardeners, the men and 'prentice boys
Told off to do as they are bid and do it without noise;
For except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the
birds,
The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words.

And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose,
And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows;
But they can roll and trim the lawns and sift the sand and loam,
For the Glory of the Garden occupieth all who come.

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing:--"Oh, how beautiful!" and sitting in the shade,
While better men than we go out and start their working lives
At grubbing weeds from gravel-paths with broken dinner-knives

There's not a pair of legs so thin, there's not a head so thick,
There's not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick.
But it can find some needful job that's crying to be done,
For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one.

Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further
orders,
If it's only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;
And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to
harden,
You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees
That half a proper gardener's work is done upon his knees,
So when your work is finished, you can wash your hand and
pray
For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away!
And the Glory of the Garden it shall never pass away!



.....................................................................................................



or , SOng of Solomon II, 10 - 13; IV 13 - 16.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits;camphire, with spikenard,Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees offrankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices:A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams fromLebanon.Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden,that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.

!

jfdi

There might be something on here - http://www.jacksback.org.uk/ - a site dedicated to Jack Hargreaves.

I would look but my pc won't let me load it properly to check!

Lord_Gardener

Did you make a final selection? I hope that you found something suitable.

whitewing

Oh, your poems made me cry. No, we haven't made a final selection yet (service is not until next week due to family member in hospital for an operation). I really like the Garden Meditation, but may have to adapt to keep everybody happy as some words are disliked and he also wasn't one for fancy names, like zucchini! I'm hoping to get into the Money-Saving gardening myself at some point soon, so perhaps we'll have it at mine (in another 50 years or so).

I also tried adapting one called Reverie by Helen Bath Swanson to have veg instead of flowers. My friend thinks it works well, but haven't had feedback from the rest of the clan yet. Knowing our lot, we'll narrow it down to three and then make a final decision on the day...pity the poor reader who is going to have to rehearse them all

Will let you know....

pusscat

Do not stand at my grave and weep

There are various versions, this is my favorite:

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

http://www.businessballs.com/donotstandatmygraveandweep.htm