Best Funeral Poems For Family And Loved Ones
Sometimes its difficult to find words to say goodbye or capture the personality of the person who has died, or their interests. Using a carefully chosen poem, reading or verse is a good way to bring meaning during a funeral ceremony, memorial or celebration of life. It can also help you express how you are feeling.
As a female led funeral directors, we know planning a funeral is not easy, so if you are looking for the perfect verse or poem to read at a funeral, memorial or celebration of life event, hopefully our large collection of funeral resources below will help you. Drop us an email if you wish to share your favourite and we will add it to our list, so others can be inspired!
Our favourite is 'Long Cup of Tea by Michael Ashby - see what you think.....
Funeral Topics for Content
1. Garden
2. Military
3. Mother (can be adapted to father, mother in-law etc)
4. Much Loved Popular
5. Father
6. Infant Child
7. Bikers
8. Truckers
9. ShipLovers
10. Car Enthusiast
11. Grief & Loss
12. Mental Heath
13. Religious
14. Humour
15. Football
16. Races
17. Dementia
18. Extracts from books
19. Musicians
20. Painter
Rose Garden
But loved ones, remember:
For all the roses that grew
She tended and planted
Whole gardens in you.
Her heart warm and nurturing,
Her love strong and deep
Resilient and rooted
Yours to tend and to keep.
Her humor a harvest
Her love gently blooms
Her comforting presence
Still fills up a room.
For now we’re her roses.
Her legacy
of light and care.
The whole world will marvel
and know that she was there.
Written by Liz Newman
If roses grow in heaven
If roses grow in heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my Mother’s arms
and tell her they’re from me.
Tell her I love her and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her for awhile.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it every day,
but there’s an ache within my heart
that will never go away.
Written by unknown
A Soldier
Still a Soldier
I lay here today
I know some Don’t understand
I will try to explain it
The soldier and the man
I served my country
For many a year
I retired long ago
But the soldiers still here
I put on my uniform
I wore it to foreign lands
The soldier I was
Is still the man
I have been a good man
And a friend to many here today
But I’ve been a soldier all along
Even after so many years
And so my final salute
I render today
I’m still a proud soldier
I’m just on my way
Rest in peace soldier !
Written by unknown
The Solder
If I should die, think only of me
That theres some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
in that rich earth a richer dust concealed
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware
Gave once her flowers to love, her ways to roam
A body of England’s breathing English air
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home
And think, this heart, all evil shed away
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day
And laughter, learnt of friends, and gentleness
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven
A Sonnet for My Incomparable Mother
I often contemplate my childhood, Mom.
I am a mother now, and so I know
Hard work is mixed together with the fun;
You learned that when you raised me long ago.
I think of all the things you gave to me:
Sacrifice, devotion, love and tears,
Your heart, your mind, your energy and soul–
All these you spent on me throughout the years.
You loved me with a never-failing love
You gave me strength and sweet security,
And then you did the hardest thing of all:
You let me separate and set me free.
Every day, I try my best to be
A mother like the mom you were to me
Written by Joanna Fuchs
What is a Mom?
A mom is one of life's best gifts,
Someone to treasure all life through,
She's caring and loving,
Thoughtful and true,
Someone who is always a special part of your life,
Someone who holds a prime place in your heart,
She's a mentor, a confident and also a friend,
Someone on whose love you can depend.
A mom always has your best interests at heart,
She's someone so dear and so good,
She's a blessing, she's a gift,
She's a treasure like no other,
She's someone that is truly wonderful.
Wherever you go, and whatever you do,
A mom’s love will always see you through,
A mom is truly invaluable,
Indispensable and unforgettable.
I wouldn't want anyone but you,
And that's why I'm so grateful,
that life picked you for me.
Written by unknown
Gone From Us …
Gone from us that smiling face,
The cheerful pleasant ways,
The heart that won so many friends,
In bygone, happy days.
A life made beautiful by kindly deeds,
A helping hand for others’ needs.
To a beautiful life,
Comes a happy end,
She died as she lived,
Everyone’s friend.
Written by unknown
The Sweetest Mother
Our mother is the sweetest and
most delicate of all.
She knows more of paradise
than angels can recall.
She’s not only beautiful
but passionately young,
Playful as a kid, yet wise
as one who has lived long.
Herlove is like the rush of life,
A bubbling, laughing spring
That runs through all like liquid light
And makes the mountains sing.
Written by Pamela
Dearest Mum
Memories unfold as we think of you,
A real mum, through and through.
You suffered in silence everyday,
An illness that would not go away.
But now you have no more pain
For God’s loving arms have healed you again.
Written by unknown
At Rest
Think of me as one at rest,
For me, no need to weep,
I have no pain, no troubled thoughts,
For I am just at peace.
The living, thinking me that was,
is now forever still,
And life goes on without me,
as time forever will.
If your heart is heavy now,
because I’ve gone away,
Dwell not long upon it friend,
for none of us can stay.
To those friends who liked me,
I sincerely thank you all,
and those of you that loved me,
well, I thank you most of all.
For in my fleeting lifespan,
as time went rushing by
I found some time to hesitate,
to laugh, to love, to cry.
It matters not when time began,
or if time will ever cease
For I was here, I used it all
and now I am at peace.
Written by unknown
Our Mum
A special Mum is hard to find
For that we know is true
You gave to us unselfishly
Every single part of you
Your winning smile, those sparking eyes,
The way you made us laugh,
We know you were so peaceful
As you travelled Heaven’s path
Your memory is your inner strength,
Which last a whole life through,
God threw away the mould Mum
The day that he made you
Whenever we are lonely
And need your loving hand
We know that you will guide us
In life, to understand
That each day you’ll walk beside us,
We will never be alone,
The only thing that’s changed now Mum
Is that you are not at home
Written by unknown
Legacy of love
A wife, a mother, a grandma too,
This legacy we have from you,
You gave 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 earned your sleep,
Your love in our hearts, we’ll eternally keep
Written by unknown
A Silent Tear
Just close your eyes and you will see
All the memories that you have of me
Just sit and relax and you will find
I’m really still there inside your mind.
Don’t cry for me now I’m gone
For I am in the land of song
There is no pain, there is no fear
So dry away that silent tear.
Don’t think of me in the dark and cold
For here I am, no longer old
I’m in that place that’s filled with love
Known to you all, as “up above”
Written by Gaynor Llewellyn
‘Okay Dear’
Shirley was my Mum
But that’s not all she was,
She was a wife, a mum, a nan,
A sister, and of course a friend
I will forever hear her say
“okay dear” in her voice to me
That radiant smile,
that courage to overcome
Whilst some days quietly Im sure,
Were tougher than some,
Its okay dear, no complaint I’d hear her say,
Knit one, pearl one clattering away
Of that hum of the sewing machine,
Of her pieces of treasures, she made
Of the laughter,
of the bravery,
of your spirit
I will never forget you Mum
Written by Amanda-Louise Knight
Your Mother Is Always With You
Your mother is always with you…
She’s the whisper of the leaves
as you walk down the street.
She’s the smell of bleach in
your freshly laundered socks.
She’s the cool hand on your
brow when you’re not well.
Your mother lives inside your laughter.
She’s crystallized
in every tear drop…
She’s the place you came from,
your first home.. She’s the map you
follow with every step that you take.
She’s your first love and your first heartbreak….
and nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time, not space…
Not even death….
will ever separate you
from your mother…
You carry her inside of you….
Written by Jane Jenkins Herlong
Life
Life is but a stopping place,
A pause in what’s to be,
A resting place along the road,
to sweet eternity.
We all have different journeys,
Different paths along the way,
We all were meant to learn some things,
but never meant to stay…
Our destination is a place,
Far greater than we know.
For some the journey’s quicker,
For some the journey’s slow.
And when the journey finally ends,
We’ll claim a great reward,
And find an everlasting peace,
Together with the lord
Written by unknown
Feel No Guilt in Laughter
Feel no guilt in laughter, he’d know how much you care.
Feel no sorrow in a smile that he is not here to share.
You cannot grieve forever; he would not want you to.
He’d hope that you could carry on the way you always do.
So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared,
The days you spent together, all the happiness you shared.
Let memories surround you, a word someone may say
Will suddenly recapture a time, an hour or a day,
That brings him back as clearly as though he were still here,
And fills you with the feeling that he is always near.
For if you keep those moments, you will never be apart
And he will live forever locked safely within your heart.
Written by Unknown
All is Well
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
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 enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it 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.
Written by Henry Scott Holland
Alone I Will Not Be
My comfort will come from the sea.
The stillness of calm waves will gently drift by, I will be as one with the sea.
When the sun sets on the ocean blue,
remember me as I will always remember you.
As the sun rises…go live life as full as can be
Apart…you and me
but be at peace for I am free
Written by Capt. Chad Theesfeld
Afterflow
I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one.
I’d like to leave an afterglow of smiles when life is done.
I’d like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways,
Of happy times and laughing times and bright and sunny days.
I’d like the tears of those who grieve, to dry before the sun;
Of happy memories that I leave when life is done.
Written by Unknown
Brightest Star
‘With no dark clouds surrounding me, I can only see sunshine ahead
Although I will miss you all so terribly, I do regret what has been left unsaid
If I could have said goodbye to you all, especially those I loved so much
I would have but I had to leave without a loved one’s touch
We may never understand the reasons why I had to go
What breaks my heart is that you are hurting, I beg that this isn’t so
I loved you all beyond limits, there aren’t enough words to say
But I get that I’m not there, so it doesn’t matter at the end of the day
Yet the words that I leave you now with, are ones that mean the most you see
I ask you to remember all the good times, this is really important to me
Live your lives to the full, look after those I love, I beg you from afar
Then look to the night sky, I’ll be there shining brightly from a star
I’ll be the biggest and brightest thing in the sky,I’ll shine you’ll see me for sure
So when the heartache comes, just go for a walk, I’ll be right outside your door
My light and my love will never dim, on this you can rely
No matter where in the world you are, you’ll see me as the brightest star in the sky.
Written by Robyn O'Connell
I Walked With You Today
I walked with you today,
I took the longer way.
I made some time to tell you
all the things I never say.
I spoke to you so softly
and often tears just flowed.
I let you know my secrets,
the stories you were owed.
I gave you all my heart,
as we walked the pretty way.
I cared not for my timings
or the schedule of my day.
Instead I lingered back,
picking flowers for my hair.
I showed you our old tree
but this time I stopped and stared.
I walked with you today,
I took the wilder path.
I reminded you of all the times
your antics made me laugh.
I stopped to smell the roses,
as I should have done before.
I seized that special moment
and I wished and wished for more.
I walked with you today love
and with all my aching heart.
I wish that I had not left it
too late in life to start…
To start taking the long route,
saying things I never say.
I’m sorry that it took me
far too long to walk this way.
Written by Donna Ashworth
One At Rest
Think of me as one at rest
For me you should not weep
I have no pain no troubled thoughts
For I am just asleep
The living thinking me that was,
Is now forever still
And life goes on without me now
As time forever will
If your heart is heavy now
Because Ive gone away
Dwell not long upon it friend
For none of us can stay
Those of you who liked me
I sincerely thank you all
And those of you who loved me
I thank you most of all
And in my fleeting lifespan
As time went rushing by
I found some time to hesitate
To laugh, to love, to cry
Matters it now if time began
If time will ever cease?
I was here, I used it all,
And now I am at peace
Written by Unknown
Life is a Game
Life is a game with a glorious prize,
If we can only play it right.
It is give and take, build and break,
And often it ends in a fight;
But he surely wins who honestly tries
(Regardless of wealth or fame),
He can never despair who plays it fair
How are you playing the game?
Do you wilt and whine, if you fail to win
In the manner you think your due?
Do you sneer at the man in case that he can
And does, do better than you?
Do you take your rebuffs with a knowing grin?
Do you laugh tho’ you pull up lame?
Does your faith hold true when the whole world’sblue?
How are you playing the game?
Get into the thick of it – wade in, boys!
Whatever your cherished goal;
Brace up your will till your pulses thrill,
And you dare to your very soul!
Do something more than make a noise;
Let your purpose leap into flame
As you plunge with a cry, “I shall do or die,”
Then you will be playing the game.
Written by unknown
Crossing the Bar
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have cross’d the bar
Written by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Life Is But A Stopping Place
Life is but a stopping place,
A pause in what’s to be,
A resting place along the road,
to sweet eternity.
We all have different journeys.
Different paths along the way,
We all were meant to learn some things,
but never meant to stay…
Our destination is a place,
Far greater than we know.
For some the journey’s quicker,
For some the journey’s slow.
And when the journey finally ends,
We’ll claim a great reward,
And find an everlasting peace,
Together with the lord
Looking Back
by Edgar A. Guest
I haven’t built much of a fortune to leave
to those who shall carry my name,
And nothing I’ve done shall entitle me now
to a place on the tablets of fame.
But I’ve loved the great sky and its spaces of blue;
I’ve lived with the birds and the trees;
I’ve turned from the splendor of silver and gold
to share in such pleasures as these.
I’ve given my time to the children who came;
together we’ve romped and we’ve played,
And I wouldn’t exchange the glad hours spent
with them for the money that I might have made.
I chose to be known and be loved by the few,
and was deaf to the plaudits of men;
And I’d make the same choice should the chance
come to me to live my life over again.
I’ve lived with my friends and I’ve shared in theirjoys,
known sorrow with all of its tears;
I have harvested much from my acres of life,
though some say I’ve squandered my years.
For much that is fine has been mine to enjoy,
and I think I have lived to my best,
And I have no regret, as I’m nearing the end,
for the gold that I might have possessed.
Written by unknown
But Not Forgotten
I think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
Nor yet the way I held my head,
Nor all the tremulous things I said.
You still will see me, small and white
And smiling, in the secret night,
And feel my arms about you when
The day comes fluttering back again.
I think, no matter where you be,
You’ll hold me in your memory
And keep my image, there without me,
By telling later loves about me.
Written by Dorothy Parker (1893 – 1967)
A life well lived is a precious gift
Of hope and strength and grace,
From someone who has made our world
A brighter, better place
It’s filled with moments, sweet and sad
With smiles and sometimes tears,
With friendships formed and good times shared
And laughter through the years.
A life well lived is a legacy
Of joy and pride and pleasure,
A living, lasting memory
Our grateful hearts will treasure
Written by unknown
Our Memories Build a Special Bridge
When loved ones have to part
To help us feel were with them still
And soothe a grieving heart
They span the years and warm our lives
Preserving ties that bind
Our memories build a special bridge
And bring us peace of mind
Written by Emily Mathews
Remember Me
To the living, I am gone,
To the sorrowful, I will never return,
To the angry, I was cheated,
But to the happy, I am at peace,
And to the faithful, I have never left.
I cannot speak, but I can listen.
I cannot be seen, but I can be heard.
So as you stand upon a shore gazing at a beautiful sea,
As you look upon a flower and admire its simplicity,
Remember me.
Remember me in your heart:
Your thoughts, and your memories,
Of the times we loved,
The times we cried,
The times we fought,
The times we laughed.
For if you always think of me, I will never have gone.
Written by Margaret Bird
I Give You
I give you this one thought to keep.
I am with you still. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on the 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 think of me as gone.
I am with you still in each new dawn.
Written by unknown
When Great Trees Fall
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker downing tall grasses,
and even elephant slumber after safety.
When great trees fallen forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die, the air around us become slight, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken.
Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us.
Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away.
We are not so much maddened as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves.
And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly.
Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.
Written by Maya Angelou
I was loved,therefore I am
I was loved, therefore I am
And in being loved, I am treasured
When I peeled away my layers
And all that was left was my essence
The bareness of me
I was still loved
I was loved,therefore I am
And in being loved, I was able to grow
In my mistakes, held
In my successes, celebrated
I was always loved
I was loved,therefore I am
And in being loved, I learned to love
In the sun filled day
In the ecstasy of the night
I was loved and loved others
To be loved is all you need
I was loved…..and so, I will always be
Written by Ana Draper
Farewell my friends
It was beautiful as long as it lasted
The journey of my life
I have nor egrets whatsoever, save the pain
I’ll leave behind
Those dear hearts who love and care
And the strings pulled at the heart and soul
The strong arms that held me up
When my own strength let me down
At every turning of my life
I came across good friends
Friends who stood by me
Even when the time raced me by
Farewell,farewell my friends
I smile and bid you goodbye
No shed no tears for I need them not
All I need is your smile
If you feel sad do think of me
For that’s what I’ll like
When you live in the hearts
Of those you love, remember then
You never die
Written by Rabindranath Tagore
I walk within You
If I be the first of us to die
Let grief not lacken long your sky
Be bold yet modest in your grieving
There is change but not a leaving
For just as death is part of life
The dead live on forever in the living
For all the gathered riches of our journey
The moments shared, the mysteries explored,
The steady layer 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 mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand
What we were,we are
What we had,we have
A conjoined past imperishably present
So when you walk the woods where once we walked together
And scan invain 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, each by habit for my hand
And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you
Be still
Clear your eyes
Breathe
Listen for my footfall in your heart
I am not gone but merely walk within you
Written by Nicholas Evans
Let me Go
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 love that once we shared
Miss me, but let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take
And each must go alone.
It’s all part of the master plan
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go the friends we know.
Laugh at all the things we used to do
Miss me, but let me go.
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 ifthou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows, I shall not fear 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.
Written by Christina Rosetti
Early Death
She passed away like morning dew
Before the sun was high;
So brief her time, she scarcely knew
The meaning of a sigh.
As round the rose its soft perfume,
Sweet love around her floated;
Admired she grew-while mortal doom
Crept on, un-feared, un-noted.
Love was her guardian Angel here,
But Love to Death resigned her;
Though Love was kind, why should we fear
But holy Death is kinder?
Written by Hartley Coleridge (1796 – 1849)
Our lives are one big puzzle,
We don't know how many pieces we've got,
There are people that fit in quite nicely,
And people who try but do not,
We're constantly adding more pieces,
All the memories of things we've been through,
we add laughter and tears and adventure,
and the lessons we've learnt to be true,
everyone has their own puzzle,
there will be ones where you do not fit,
Don't you ever dare make your piece smaller,
Just so you can live there for a bit,
If you keep cutting off all your edges,
one day you won't recognize who you see,
and you'll forget the person you once were,
before the world told you who you should be,
make the most of each piece in your puzzle,
it'll be a grand masterpiece when it's done,
so you won't have to look back when it's over,
and realize you've left out the sun.
Written by Ernest Hemingway
Family O'Mine, I Should Like To Send You A Sunbeam
Family o’ mine:
I should like to send you a sunbeam, or the twinkle of some bright star,or a tiny piece of the downy fleece that clings to a cloud afar.
I should like to send you the essence of a myriad sun-kissed flowers,or the lilting song as it floats along, of a brook through fairy bowers.I should like to send you the dew-drops that glisten at break of day,and then at night the eerie light that mantles the Milky Way.
I should like to send you the power that nothing can overflow –
the power to smile and laugh the while a-jouneying through life you go.But these are mere fanciful wishes; I’ll send you a Godspeed instead,and I’ll clasp your hand – then you’ll understand all the things I have left unsaid.
Written by Unknown
For Katrina's Sun Dial
Time is too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice,
But for those who love, time is
Eternity.
Written by Henry Van Dyke (1852 – 1933)
Fear No More The Heat Of The Sun
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.
Written by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Written by WH Auden (1907 – 1973)
He Has Achieved Success
He has achieved success who has lived well,
laughed often and loved much:
who has enjoyed the trust of pure women,
the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children;
who has filled the niche and accomplished his task;
who has left the world better than he found it;
whether by an improved poppy,
a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty
or failed to express it;
who has always looked for the best in others
and given the best he had.
Whose life was an inspiration;
Whose memory a benediction.
Written by Bessie A. Stanley, American poet
'Have You Got a Biro I Can Borrow?
Have you got a biro I can borrow?
I’d like to write your name
On the palm of my hand, on the walls of the hall
The roof of the house, right across the land
So when the sun comes up tomorrow
It’ll look to this side of the hard-bitten planet
Like a big yellow button with your name written onit
Have you got a biro I can borrow?
I’d like to write some lines
In praise of your knee, and the back of your neck
And the double-decker bus that brings you to me
So when the sun comes up tomorrow
It’ll shine on a world made richer by a sonnet
And a half-dozen epics as long as the Aeneid
Oh give me a pen and some paper
Give me a chisel or a camera
A piano and a box of rubber bands
I need room for choreography
And a darkroom for photography
Tie the brush into my hands
Have you got a biro I can borrow?
I’d like to write your name
From the belt of Orion to the share of the Plough
The snout of the Bear to the belly of the Lion
So when the sun goes down tomorrow
There’ll never be a minute
Not a moment of the night that hasn’t got you in it
Written by Clive James
I’m in the rain
I'm in the rain
I’m in the pain
I’m in the blood within your veins
I’m in the air
My favourite chair
I’m in the soulful way you care
I’m in the night
I’m in your sight
I’m in your heart and holding tight
I’m in the skies
The children's eyes
I’m in your sobs and in your sighs
I’m in your life
The cause of strife
And that thought cuts me like a knife
My darling one
My moon, my sun
Please don’t let all I was become
Your daily sadness
Source of madness
I used to be a font of gladness
If you can hear
When I am near
Please let me take away the fear
And bring back love
I’m not above
I’m close around you like a glove
So breathe me in
Let life begin
Loss will fade but love will win
Written by Donna Ashworth
In Memoriam AHH Part XXVI
I envy not in any moods,
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods:
I envy not the beast that takes
His license in the field of time,
Unfetter’d by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;
Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The heart that never plighted troth
But stagnates in the weed of sloth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.
I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
Written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Poet Laureate
Look For me in Rainbows
Time for me to go now, I won't say goodbye.
Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.
In the morning sunrise when all the world is new,
Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.
Time for me to leave you, I won't say goodbye.
Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky.
In the evening sunset, when all the world is through,
Just look for me and love me, and I'll be close to you.
It won't be forever the day will come and then
My loving arms will hold you when we meet again
Time for us to part now, we won't say goodbye.
Look for me in rainbows, shining in the sky.
Every waking moment, and all your whole life through
Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.
Just wish me to be near you,
And I'll be there with you.
Written by Unknown
At Times Like This
At times like this
We may look through books
For the perfect words
To give form to our feelings,
Make the thing complete,
Set the matter at rest.
But in the hours of searching
Each piece lies rejected:
Too precise, too difficult,
Too harsh, not relevant,
Implying what we do not wish.
But look into the grey wide sky,
And the thoughts will come
Like this –
Remember me when I loved you most
And you loved me most.
Remember me when I was my bravest,
And when I did you right.
Then let that be our secret bond,
And just once let us rise in the morning
And enjoy the light,
And know that the bird in the mist
Is returning to the sun.
Written by David Lott
A Forever Friend
Sometimes in life,
you find a special friend;
Someone who changes your life
just by being part of it.
Someone who makes you laugh
until you can't stop;
Someone who makes you believe
that there really is good in the world.
Someone who convinces you
that there really is an unlocked door
just waiting for you to open it.
This is a Forever Friend.
When you're down,
and the world seems dark and empty,
Your forever friend lifts you up in spirit
and makes that dark and empty world
suddenly seem bright and full.
Your forever friend gets you through
the hard times, the sad times,
and the confused times.
Your forever friend holds your hand
and tells you that
everything is going to be okay.
And if you find such a friend,
you feel happy and complete,
because you need not worry.
You have a forever friend for life,
and forever has no end.
Written by unknown
“Yours” from the film “Carve her name with pride”
The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours.
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause.
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours
There are stars up above, so far away we only see their light long, long after the star itself is gone. And so it is with people we loved – their memories keep shining ever brightly though their time with us is done. But the stars that light up the darkest night, these are the lights that guide us. As we live our days, these are the ways we remember.
Written by Hannah Sennesh
The Place Where Lost Things Go
Do you ever lie
Awake at night?
Just between the dark
And the morning light
Searching for the things
You used to know
Looking for the place
Where the lost things go
Do you ever dream
Or reminisce?
Wondering where to find
What you truly miss
Well maybe all those things
That you love so
Are waiting in the place
Where the lost things go
Time to close your eyes
So sleep can come around
For when you dream you'll find
All that's lost is found
Maybe on the moon
Or maybe somewhere new
Maybe all you're missing lives inside of you
So when you need his touch
And loving gaze
Gone but not forgotten
Is the perfect phrase
Smiling from a star
That he makes glow
Trust he’s always there
Watching as you grow
Find him in the place
Where the lost things go
Written (adapted) by unknown from Mary Poppins movie
Intimations of Immortality
Whatthough the radiance which was once so bright~
Be now forever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind.
Dad
He never looks for praises.
He’s never one to boast.
He just goes on quietly working
For those he loves the most.
His dreams are seldom spoken.
His wants are very few,
And most of the time his worries
Will go unspoken, too.
He’s there…a firm foundation
Through all our storms of life,
A sturdy hand to hold onto
In times of stress and strife.
A true friend we can turn to
When times are good or bad.
One of our greatest blessings,
The man that we call Dad.
Written by Karen Boyer
The Loss of a Father
is the anchor pulled from the sebed
the steering wheel unhinged
the mast spilt by lighting
and the bow broken by storm
The ship you sail
now feels unsafe
no longer weatherproof
without direction
or brave heart
to speed its way
Perhaps you did not even know
that he was your compass
that you gazed upon his lead
like a north star in the night
He gave you all of this
you see
without notice or congratulation
diligently
consistently
continuously guiding
always showing the way
in the way he knew how
And whilst you are cast adrift
I know this to be true
you will anchor yourself once more
when you realise
that his voice still speaks
still guides
still brings a brave heart your way
in the roughest of storms
And the answers you seek
he already planned deep
for he knew one day
So he buried little pieces of himself
within your heart
your mind
your spirit
and your soul
little breadcrumbs of love
to show the way
home
Written by Donna Ashworth
Father's Day Without Him
If you listen very closely
you can hear the words he'd say
when once again the calendar
falls hard on Father's Day
Dont make a fuss around me
its just a silly day
I dont need any gifts
or a card to help you say
But then he'd tear the wrapping
and a wholesome smile would bloom
knowing that he made the love
that fills this little room
So when that day comes around
and he's no longer in your reach
remember that you know the way
and now ists yours to teach
A father is a feeling
a chamber in your heart
so fill that chamber up
and let your brave new life re-start
Written by Donna Ashworth
Sweet Child
When a light is as bright
As the light you shone
There’s no such thing
As truly gone
When a smile is as precious
As the one you wore
You nestle in hearts
Forevermore
When one so loved
Is taken too soon
The love that is left
Could outshine the moon
So much love with no place
To be truly at peace
So we love you more
Bittersweet release
Sweet child
You were here
For so little in time
But the hole that you left
Grows ever wide
Written by Donna Ashworth
Little snowdrop
The world may never notice,
If a snowdrop doesn’t bloom,
Or even pause to wonder,
If the petals fall too soon.
But every life that ever forms,
Or ever comes to be,
Touches the world in some small way,
For all eternity,
The little one we longed for,
Was swiftly here and gone,
But the love that was then planted,
Is a light that still shines on.
And though our arms are empty,
Our hearts know what to do,
For every beating of our hearts,
Says that we love you.
Written by unknown
For my little one
I never saw your twinkling eyes,
Or touched your precious feet.
I never shared a tiny yawn,
Or rocked you fast asleep.
I never kissed your tiny hands,
Or saw your little smile.
I never held you in my arms,
But I held you for a while.
Although I never saw your face,
Or heard your precious laughter,
You’re still my child whom I love,
And will forever after.
Written by Mary Cathleen
Too soon
This was a life that had hardly begun,
No time to find your place in the Sun,
No time to do all you could have done,
But we loved you enough for a lifetime.
No time to enjoy the world and it’s wealth,
No time to take life down off the shelf,
No time to sing the songs of yourself,
Though you had enough love for a lifetime.
Those who life long endure sadness and tears,
But you’ll never suffer the sorrowing years,
No betrayal, no anger, no hatred, no fears,
Just love – only love – in your lifetime.
Written by Mary Yarnall
We thought of you today
We thought of you today,
But that is nothing new
We thought of you yesterday
And will tomorrow, too
We think of you in silence
And make no outward show
For what it meant to lose you
Only those who love you know
Remembering you is easy
We do it every day
It's the heartache of losing you
That will never go away.
Written by unknown
Another Biker Who Has Gone Down
I’m sorry, friends, that I can’t be with you here today.
If you’re all gathered reading this, it means I’ve passed away.
But if I were there I’d tell you not to shed a tear or frown.
I’d tell you just to simply say, ‘Another Biker has gone down’.
If I were there I’d tell you I have no more pain or strife,
That I loved my friends and family, and I had a wonderful life.
If I were there, I’d tell you how I loved the open highways,
I loved the curving mountain roads, and I loved tor ide the back-road byways.
I loved to be in the wind. I loved when that engine rumbled,
And the biker friends who rode with me would help me when I stumbled.
You are amongst my dearest friends, brothers and sisters of the road,
We’ve travelled many miles together; shared many heavy loads
If I could be there with you, we’d laugh and share memories from our past,
And this gathering would be just one more tale, another story, not our last.
But today I can’t be with you, except in heart and memory stores.
So you’ll have to laugh, remember the past, and then let you engines roar!
Please smile and do not shed a tear, wipe away that silly frown,
I’m off upon that final ride, another Biker who has gone down.
My Last Ride
My hands are clenched around chrome bars
the engine’s rumble sounds so sweet.
I twist the throttle with my palm
and roar off down the street.
The slapping of my leathers
and raging winds on either side,
drum a beat of sweet contentment
as I ride this…..my last ride.
Alone on my tin pony,
to the heavens I’ve been called,
but fret not my dear loved ones,
I’m not lonely here at all.
The speedometer is just a blur
as tears blow from my eyes,
the bike and I roll forward
off into the calling skies.
I hope I touched your lives one day,
and left a treasured mark,
now I’ll ride on forever,
with your memory in my heart.
Written by Unknown
You have ridden along the highway of life,
taking the turns that you felt were meant to be.
As we continue to navigate this vast highway of life,
We remember the legacy you have left us.
So NAME, take your final ride. The wind rustling your hair,
A smile on your lips and peace in your heart.
Roll the throttle back hard, full speed ahead.
On life's final ride. Farewell my friend.
As we take our final rides one day,
you can show us the way/show me the way.
Written by Unknown
Highway in the Sky
Before the big haul, he checks once more
Then climbs up those steps
and gets in the cab door
It’ll be his home for the next day or two or three
Just the stretched road ahead,
for as far as he can see
The engine starts rumbling,
the brakes are checked too
He has to make it safe and sound
to see his load through
And so he sets off into the sunset,
to drive all night
Have to get there nice and early
get the job done right
Others on the road, often made his life tough
Doing stupid things,
they think they’re made of hard stuff
But the real strong bloke, is the driver of thetruck
Busting his gut just to make an honest buck
The reward at the end is to enjoy a cold beer
All dressed up in his shorts and singlet,
full of good cheer
A truckie’s life isn’t always easy, that is forsure
But to him the road’s his home and not at all achore
Now he’s gone forever, to that big highway in thesky
The roads are always smooth and no one passes by
Those 18 wheels are rolling, forever without fuel
No maintenance, no new tyres,
he won’t even need a tool
His life is forever changed and we will miss him so
But he’s on that big highway
with a long, long way to go
Every so often, when you hear a horn blast
Know that he’s sending you his love,
as he’s driving past.
Written by unknown
I Am Standing Upon the Seashore
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.
Written by Henry Van Dyke
Gone Fishing
Written byI’ve finished life’s chores assigned to me,
So put me on a boat headed out to sea.
Please send along my fishing pole
For I’ve been invited to the fishin’ hole.
Where every day is a day to fish,
To fill your heart with every wish.
Don’t worry, or feel sad for me,
I’m fishin’ with the Master of the sea.
We will miss each other for awhile,
But you will come and bring your smile.
That won’t be long you will see,
Till we’re together you and me.
To all of those that think of me,
Be happy as I go out to sea.
If others wonder why I’m missin’
Just tell ’em I’ve gone fishin’
Written by Dalmar Pepper
Fast Car
Like the car he drives,
He will pass you in the fast lane of life,
Like the blaring music from his car,
He loves life and a good joke,
Like the roaring engine of his car,
His temper will take off like a racer to the finish line,
With his fast car he ran straight through everyone’s heart,
When his engine went he went along with his fast car to heaven,
Going fast as he could down the road of eternal sleep,
While he lies in his eternal sleep never to wake his fast
car lies with him!
Written by Jamie Drake
Racing Car Poem
The race begins,
as engines roar.
They charge ahead,
like a wild boar.
Immediately they,
vie for position.
Victory and glory,
is their common mission.
Every driver,
maximum speed desires.
Each sharp turn,
burns their tires.
Magnificent machines,
often tease disaster.
Fearless warriors,
strive for nothing but faster.
Their greatest nemesis and saviour,
are known simply as brakes.
In order to pass,
they wait for mistakes.
In the end,
only one gets to brag.
The first to kiss,
the checkered flag.
Written by Martin Dejnicki
The Driver
Some folk drive for transport, just a means unto an end,
They treat cars as a mere machine, and not a trusted friend,
Concerned only for the badge in front, how bright it may be shining,
And the many pretty toys inside, their egos there defining.
The driver sees it differently, with their car becomes a part,
Take the road together, hit the road, with a single beating heart,
The turbo’s rising wail, and the exhaust’s muscled, subtle growl,
To the driver’s ear, an orchestra, there’s music in that howl.
For you can feel the engine, as the revs rise at your command,
Feeling the lusty thrust of power, that answers your demand,
How the clutch feels underfoot, as each gear is selected,
The steering too, how it responds, to where it is directed,
The road you feel, within your palms, at every bend you take,
Every bump and line and camber, each triumph and mistake,
Your car it tells you all of this, for this is truly livin’,
Petrol flowing through the veins, and ways it can be driven.
Not just a freeway drive, but each outing on a mission,
And not a veering trundle, but a task of deep precision,
Not the tedium of traffic, relief at the arriving,
The thrill is in the journey, and the passion in the driving
Written by Graeme Cook
The Race of Motoring Dreams
Let me tell a story,
Of tranquil little place,
A place that every year,
Holds a legendary race,
A race that’s built up legend,
Of men and their machine,
A race that only 19 men,
Have more than one win gleaned.
It started out 500 mile,
Way back in ’63,
When cars were all stock standard,
Reliability the key.
A time when drivers had a flat,
They’d stop beside the track,
Pull out the jack and spare,
And get themselves back on track.
These were the days before V8s,
Ever thundered round,
Unlike the race we see today,
Where V8s shake the ground.
It was late into the sixties,
Before they took their place,
Since then only six times,
Has a V8 been displaced.
Cars from here Down Under,
And many from abroad,
Came every year to try and notch,
A win up on the board.
Many tried and failed,
Though deserving they may have been,
Many cars and drivers,
Laboured years without a win.
This race has proven torture,
And shattered many dreams,
Who could forget in ’95
Glenn Seton’s shattered dream?
But here’s a driver worthy,
To be in this group’s elite,
The fact he ne’er saw victory,
Testament of the feat.
So what’s that say ’bout Brocky,
With nine wins on the board?
This mountain’s king a legend,
Who will always be adored.
Then Perkins, Richards, Skaife,
Have six wins in the bag,
The king of the mountain’s protege,
Craig Lowndes has five to brag.
Moffat, Murphy four
Johnson, Tander, Whincup three
This next group they have two apiece
Bowe, Firth and Rick Kelly,
Ingall, Grice and Goss,
Steve Richards, Jane and Longhurst,
Make up this mountain’s honour roll,
Who’ve quenched that victory thirst.
Yet 30 other men have come,
And clawed a victory,
49 in as many years,
I love the irony.
Will 50 years bring 50 names?
Status quo or 51?
By day’s end we will know,
Once the fun and games are done.
Will this year bring us dominance?
Like Brock Richards ’79
Or the drama of Bob Morris,
When Fitzpatrick crossed the line?
Or a statement Moffat Ickx made,
When they led Ford’s one-two?
Or the dogfight Tander Percat won,
In last year’s massive blue?
Will we see a last to first
Like Perkins Ingall ’95?
Or Percy Grice against the odds,
When turbo’s round here thrived?
Or will we see more heartache,
Like Dick Johnson and the rock?
Or a car not up to scratch,
Like the year we farewelled Brock?
And while we’re talking heartbreak,
To say nothing would be amiss,
And mention those who lost their lives,
Forever sorely missed.
Mike Burghman back in ’86
Danny Hulme four years after ’88
Don Watson back in ’94
All died on Conrod Straight.
So whatever this year brings us,
I’ll look back with fondest thought,
As an era ends when only,
Ford and Holden fought.
Next year we welcome new makes,
To battle against our best,
Here’s hoping that our legends,
Will weather this new test.
But with rumours that the Falcon,
Is soon to be no more,
And rumours that the same is coming,
For the Commodore,
I call on Ford and Holden,
To these rumours don’t succumb,
So they can keep on fighting here,
For 50 years to come.
So there it is my story,
Of this tranquil little place,
This place that every year,
Holds this legendary race.
This race that’s brought us legends,
Of men and their machines,
The Great Race of a nation,
The race of motoring dreams.
Written by Matt Langdon
Who’s Driving This Car?
The window’s blurry, the odometers broke,
The tires are bare; who’s driving this car?
The seats are saggy from long time use,
The rear-view’s broken; who’s driving this car?
It knocks down the road toward the next wreckers yard,
And it can’t get far; who’s driving this car?
Once it was new, best thing on the road,
But now it’s just old; so who’s driving this car?
I’m driving this thing, and this car is ME,
And it’s all worn out, but I made it work
As long as it did.
So I praise this car – and it’s wobbly ride-
And I’m gosh darn grateful that I’m still inside.
Written by Patti Masterman
Melancolie
This is what Grief feels like..
Don’t judge it
Don’t rush it
Don’t dismiss it
Don’t suppress it
There is no Rule book for Grief.
It comes in waves. And I pray for the ones
who feel as though they’re drowning.
This is in Switzerland~ I think it describes grief perfectly.
Written By Albert Gyorgy
A Grief blessing – Native Apache Blessing
May the sun bring you new energy every day, bringing light into the darkness of your soul.
May the moon softly restore you by night, bathing you in the glow of restful sleep and peaceful dreams.
May the rain wash away your worries and cleanse the hurt that sits in your heart.
May the breeze blow new strength into your being, and may you believe in the courage of yourself.
May you walk gently through the world, keeping your loved one with you always - knowing that you are never parted in the beating of your heart.
Funeral Poem of Reflection
I wonder if the sun debates dawn
some mornings not wanting to rise
out of bed from under the down-feather horizon
If the sky grows tired
of being every where at once
adapting to the mood swings of the weather
If the clouds drift off trying to hold themselves together
make deals with gravity
to loiter a little longer
I wonder if rain is scared
of falling, if it has trouble letting go
If snow flakes get sick
of being perfect all the time
each one trying to be one-of-a-kind
I wonder if stars wish upon themselves before the die
if they need to teach their young to shine
I wonder if shadows long to once feel the sun
if they get lost in the shuffle
not knowing where they’re from
I wonder if sunrise and sunset
respect each other
even though they’ ve never met
If volcanoes get stressed
If storms have regrets
If compost believes in life after death
I wonder if breath ever thinks
about taking a break
I wonder if the wind just wants to sit
still sometimes
and watch the world pass by
If smoke was born knoing how to rise
If rainbows get shy back stage
not sure if their colors match right
I wonder if lightning sets an alarm clock
to know when to crack
If rivers ever stop
and think of turning back
If streams meet the wrong sea
and their whole lives run off-track
I wonder if the snow wants to be black
If the soil thinks she’s too dark
If butterflies want to cover up their marks
If rocks are self-conscious of their weight
If mountains are insecure of their strength
I wonder if waves get discouraged
crawling up the sand
only to be pulled back again
to where they began
I wonder if land feels stepped upon
If sand feels insignificant
If trees need to question their lovers
to know where they stand
If branches waver in the crossroads
unsure of which way to grow
If the leaves understand they’re replaceable
and still dance when the wind blows
I wonder where the moon goes when she is hiding
I want to find her there
and watch the ocean spin from a distance
Listen to her stiring her sleep,
effort gives way to existence
Written by unknown
Inarticulate Grief
Let the sea beat its thin torn hands
In anguish against the shore,
Let it moan
Between headland and cliff;
Let the sea shriek out its agony
Across waste sands and marshes,
And clutch great ships,
Tearing them plate from steel plate
In reckless anger;
Let it break the white bulwarks
Of harbour and city;
Let it sob and scream and laugh
In a sharp fury,
With white salt tears
Wet on its writhen face;
Ah! let the sea still be mad
And crash in madness among the shaking rocks
For the sea is the cry of our sorrow.
Written by Richard Aldington
To Those Whom I Love & Those Who Love Me
When I am gone, release me, let me go.
I have so many things to see and do,
You mustn't tie yourself to me with too many tears,
But be thankful we had so many good years.
I gave you my love, and you can only guess
How much you've given me in happiness.
I thank you for the love that you have shown,
But now it is time I traveled on alone.
So grieve for me a while, if grieve you must,
Then let your grief be comforted by trust.
It is only for a while that we must part,
So treasure the memories within your heart.
I won't be far away for life goes on.
And if you need me, call and I will come.
Though you can't see or touch me, I will be near.
And if you listen with your heart, you'll hear,
All my love around you soft and clear.
And then, when you come this way alone,
I'll greet you with a smile and a 'Welcome Home'.
Written by unknown
Walking with Grief(A Celtic Prayer)
Do not hurry
As you walk with grief;
It does not help the journey
Walk slowly,
Pausing often:
Do not hurry
As you walk with grief
Be not disturbed
By memories that come unbidden.
Swiftly forgive;
And let Christ speak for you
Unspoken words.
Unfinished conversation
Will be resolved in Him.
Be not disturbed.
Be gentle with the one
Who walks with grief.
If it is you, be gentle with yourself.
Swiftly forgive;
Walk slowly,
Pausing often.
Take time, be gentle
As you walk with grief.
The Life that I Have
The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
Written by Leo Marks
In Our Minds
We stand motionless,
consumed in grief.
Sorrow has arrived,
with smiles thief.
We’regathered here,
to mourn and cry.
Our questions pointing,
at the clear blue sky.
Why did you go,
why did you leave,
Life without you,
is so hard to conceive.
Our hearts are damaged,
and scarred severely.
We shall miss you,
much more than dearly.
For having you in our lives,
we’ve all been blessed.
But now the time has arrived,
for you to rest.
We promise to cherish,
our memories of you.
You shall live in our minds,
and all that we do.
Written by unknown
The Dash
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on the tombstone
From the beginning...to the end
He noted that first came the date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years
For that dash represents all the time
That they spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved them
Know what that little line is worth
For it matters not, how much we own,
The cars...the house...the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.
So, think about this long and hard.
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
To consider what's true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we've never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering this special dash
Might only last a little while
So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life's actions to rehash...
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent YOUR dash?
Written by Linda Ellis
He/she is Gone
You can shed tears that he is gone
or you can smile because he has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that he will comeback
or you can open your eyes and see all he has left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him and only that he’s gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back
or you can do what he would want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
Written by David Harkin
Struggle
There are some of us who live our lives according to convention,
Knowing there's a part of us we don’t feel free to mention
To others we don't wish to hurt, or who wouldn't understand,
The daily inner struggle that in our lives was never planned
It happens to so many, different backgrounds, different ages
And unfolds just like a story, as we slowly turn life’s pages
As we battle with the sadness deep inside that’s always there
And at times it seems to reach the point we simply cannot bear
Loving husbands, caring fathers, in a never ending fight
As we struggle with our demons, ever present dark as night
And we hold it in, aware that it can tear our lives apart
Too frightened to reveal the truth, and share what’s in our heart
We think no-one can understand the pain and isolation
The complexity, the sadness with no easy explanation
And we ask ourselves, what have I done to end up with this life-
That delivers me such hopelessness and never ending strife?
We wonder how can we go on, get through another night?
And every day before us is the constant, endless fight
Why me ? what will I become?, how will this anguish end?
But we tell ourselves for now at least, “just continue to pretend”
Our depression seems so constant,causing conflict and divisions
And we worry that ahead of us are difficult decisions
For we are caught, just like a trap, we are not really free
And for some of us we think that is the way it has to be
But we need not walk this road alone, there are many who do care
And if we open up our feelings, and be prepared to share
We will find that there’s assistance, a friendly helping hand
From people who have empathy, who really understand
There is help and great resources, and we all should make that choice
But it does take strength and courage to release our inner voice
Remember we are decent men just living life the best we can
And our inner secret doesn't mean, we're any less a man.
Written by unknown
Gods Garden
God looked around his garden
And found an empty place,
He then looked down upon the earth
And saw your tired face.
He put his arms around you
And lifted you to rest.
God’s garden must be beautiful
He always takes the best.
He knew that you were suffering
He knew you were in pain.
He knew that you would never
Get well on earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough
And the hills were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyelids
And whispered, ‘Peace bethine’.
It broke our hearts to lose you
But you didn’t go alone,
For part of us went with you
The day God called you home.
Written by unknown
John 14:1-4
Do not let your hearts be troubled.You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.
Psalm 23
The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing,
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths,
for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk
through the darkest valley.
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all of the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
While a funeral can be a somber occasion, some people prefer to bring some hunour into the occasion -see below a variety of suggestions including some tongue in cheek ones
A LONG CUP OF TEA
Death is too negative for me
So I'll be popping off for a long cup of tea
Do splash out on two bags in the pot
And for my god's sake keep the water hot
Please pick the biggest mug you can find
Size really does matter at this time
I'll pass on the lapsang with that souchong
And that stuff with bergamot
And stick with my favourite friend
You know the English breakfast blend
Breakfast! thanks for reminding me
There's just time before I fail
To stand on ceremony
Two rashers of best back, Should keep me
Smelling sweet up the smokestack
So, mother, put the kettle on for me
It's time, mother, for my long cup of tea
Written by Michael Ashby
Our Father, Who art in Hendon
Harrow Road be Thy name
Thy Kingston come
Thy Wimbledon
In Erith as it is in Hendon.
Give us this day our Berkhampstead
And forgive us our Westminsters
As we forgive those who Westminster against us.
Lead us not into Temple Station
And deliver us from Ealing,
For thine is the Kingston
The Purley and the Crawley,
For Iver and Esher,
Crouch End.
Written by unknown
Death
I want to be cremated
I know how boring funerals can be
I want people to gather
meet new people
have a laugh, a dance, meet a loved one.
I want people to have free drink all night.
I want people to patch together, half truths.
I want people to contradict each other
I want them to say “I didn’t know him but cheers”
I want my parents there,
adding more pain to their life.
I want the Guardian to mis-sprint three lines about me
or to be mentioned on the news
Just before the “parrot who loves Brookside” story.
I want to have my ashes scattered in a bar,
on the floor, mingle with sawdust,
a bar where beautiful trendy people
Will trample over me … again
Written by Comedian Sean Hughes
Warning
When I a man old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and bee rmats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Written by Jenny Joseph
Buried With My Mobile
I want to be buried with my mobile phone
To ring in the changes at my new home
With central heating and a marble en-suite
And thermal socks for my poor cold feet
I'll be able to give in to a takeaway
And watch favourite movies on a rainy day
And if I'm feeling a bit under the weather
I'll talk to you until I begin to feel better
I've party hats, fairy cakes & songs to sing
In case somebody should drop in
Which is more likely than you'd think
As my coffin roof is on the blink
I'll be leaving you now as I've a waiting call
From my friend over by the cemetery wall
I watched the service yesterday through my periscope Burying him with his mobile
For a joke, But he'll have the last laugh
When his bill drops through their door
Fourteen hundred and forty minutes a day, for eternity and evermore
Written by unknown
The Pun Fun In Funeral With A Little Onion Breath
In prepping for a funeral The family gathered in the hall They sat there all mourning Even though it was nightfall He had eaten lots of vegetables Yet, he passed on in his suite Must have still had too much sugar And not enough heart beets A farmer by trade, he grew Not just beets but onions too When he passed,they cut his crops And cried all the way through They made his favorite cheese as well A batch to honor him that day His athlete niece, age nineteen, fell Now there’s pro teen in the whey Onions served at the will reading One son got more than his share “Yes, I see”, said the executor I can smell it in the heir“Woof” exclaimed his trusty dog “This situation is certainly tough. Although I’m sad about my human These jokes were pretty ruff…..”
Written by unknown
The Window Cleaner
Window cleaning is my trade and I want to tell my story Like the time I saw the Vicars wife in the bath in all her glory Or when I saw the Vicar tied up, I thought there'd been as laying I called the police but it turned out, t'was a game that they were playing. And Mrs Smith from two doors down, well she is kind of hot Always leaves big gaps in her drapes just to show me what she's got Next door to her a stripper lives, well she just doesn't care She walks around as I try to clean and yes she's totally bare. Then across from her a nymphomaniac lives, she's always wanting more Whenever I call to clean her glass there's men queueing at the door I always cringe when I knock her door to ask her for my money She always offers payment in flesh; winks and calls me honey. Next door to her is'Dirty Pete' watches movies all day long Not Hollywood films you understand buttitles like King Dong Well I'm no prude each to his own but quadrophonic sound!The first time that he blasted it, I fell off my ladder to the ground. Roundthe corner is Jim and Sue, she always calls me handsome I heard it from the mannext door they want me for a threesome Well maybe to some weirdy folk, it istheir fantasy Not my thing I assure you 'cos she is eighty three. The sororityhouse I'd leave till last ' cos I found it hard to cope They always leave thewindows ajar to let out the fumes of dope Then the world around me, would turncolourful and bright My eyes would see some very strange things and I'd flyhigh as a kite. See that's what I have to endure, to make an honest living Inever tell my wife you know, she'd be so unforgiving When I get home she alwaysasks, "Darling how was your day?" I tell her each time same old sameold, but it helps me pay my way.
Written by unknown
Woodland Burial
“Don’t lay me in some gloomy churchyard shaded by a wall
Where the dust of ancient bones has spread a dryness over all,
Lay me in some leafy loam where,sheltered from the cold
Little seeds investigate and tender leaves unfold.”
Written by Pam Ayres
Have A Nice Day
'Help,help, ' said a man. 'I'm drowning.'
'Hang on, ' said a man from the shore.
'Help,help, ' said the man. 'I'm not clowning.'
'Yes,I know, I heard you before.
Be patient dear man who is drowning,
You,see I've got a disease.
I'm waiting for a Doctor J. Browning.
So do be patient please.'
'How long, ' said the man who was drowning.
'Will it take for the Doc to arrive? '
'Not very long, ' said the man with the disease.
'Till then try staying alive.'
'Very well, ' said the man who was drowning.
'I'll try and stay afloat.
By reciting the poems of Browning
And other things he wrote.'
'Help,help, ' said the man with the disease,
'I suddenly feel quite ill.'
'Keep calm.' said the man who was drowning,
'Breathe deeply and lie quite still.'
'Oh dear, ' said the man with the awful disease.
'I think I'm going to die.'
'Farewell,' said the man who was drowning.
Said the man with the disease, 'goodbye.'
So the man who was drowning, drowned
And the man with the disease passed away.
But apart from that, And a fire in my flat,
It's been a very nice day
Written by Spike Milligan
Pardon Me for Not Getting Up
Oh dear, if you’re reading this right now,
I must have given up the ghost.
I hope you can forgive me for being
Such a stiff and unwelcoming host.
Just talk amongst yourself my friends,
And share a toast or two.
For I am sure you will remember well
How loved to drink with you.
Don’t worry about mourning me,
I was never easy to offend.
Feel free to share a story at my expense
And we’ll have a good laugh at the end.
Written by unknown
Ref
His striped form stands alert there, at the kick-off of each match,
His whistle shrill, the game gets under way,
All the players know who’s boss, so it flows without a catch,
His eagle eyes are watching ev’ry play.
He knows when it’s offside, and he can spot the slightest foul,
Take a dive, and he will treat you hard,
He knows his football backwards with the wisdom of an owl,
And any bully’s swiftly shown a card.
All the youngsters that he’s trained, know just what to expect,
Upon the field on any playing day,
Coached, advised, encouraged, with a mutual respect,
So lend an ear to what he has to say.
Play your game with skill and passion,
guard that goal with all your might,
Or strike toward the net so hard and true,
For he loved to see you love the game,
so never lose the sight,
Of ev’ry single thing he’s taught to you
For now that sadly he’s moved on, where he refs for higher teams,
Don’t you ever, be too surprised to find,
Although you can’t see or hear him, he’ll be far closer than it seems,
A top man never leaves his team behind.
The scores, they never mattered, it was how you played the game,
To do less than best would surely be a crime,
Play on lads, as if he’s there, treat the ball and field the same,
The Ref’s last match didn’t run to ‘extra time’.
Written by Graham Cook
Fantastic Football Fan
What’s with this game
That made you feel so high?
Was it your team
Your mates
The offside trap
And then that lousy shoot-out
Nearly made you cry?
What’s with this ball
That they could kick so high?
It meant the world
To you and them, so why?
It’s all about expecting
And then throwing in
It’s all about the winning
But not whining – not giving-in
The square, the short and long ball
The pals, solid as a rock
The unexpected tackle
Sudden shock
You felt the roar
And saw the lucky chip
The crossbar stopped the goal
That you were willing in
And in the end
At injury time
When you went deep and deeper
You didn’t find the goal
Or spot the sweeper
Then at the very end
When they were on their knees
You still walked tall
And like your mates
You claimed to take it all…
The penalty and the strike, your way
The win that set your heart aflame
The game, the pitch, the offside rule
The love that took your heart
Your final match at home — your ball.
Written by Unknown
A Day at The Races
It’s not only just the silks, and the colour and the flair, Or all the many kindred folk that I find gathered there, Sharing the excitement of the journey jockey’s facing, That whips me to action, for another day of racing.
Nor is it the game of chance, that punting always brings, From TAB and bookies, and bar-room betting rings, The heady smell of fine manure, turf so lush and green,Fine dressed folk and superb horseflesh, making up the scene.
Maybe the glorious legends, from Phar Lap to the Diva, That leaves me so infected, with the flush of racing fever, The buzz as they are mustered, from the starting gate they lurch, With the Form Guide as my bible, the racetrack as my church.
I’ve seen them win, lose and draw, rush by in charging blur, Neck and neck, nose to nose,to the photo we refer, The weight is right, the track is fair, the sun will always shine, As once more past the Judges, and I cross that Finish Line
Written by Graham Cook
The unravelling
Alzheimer’sis a cruel disease.
Like a much loved jumper.
One that you have had forever, a security blanket.
Then one day, you notice that it’s beginning to get holes, that the buttons are falling off.
It doesn’t worry you at first because you expect it.
Then the loose threads appear,
slowly at first, then gradually faster.
And even if you try and re-stitch them,
you realise that your beloved jumper is
Actually unravelling faster than you can repair it,
that it is losing its shape, its form and eventually its purpose.
That all you have left is a pile of yarn – and you can’t find the beginning or the end.
Yet you know it is in there, somewhere…
Together,but apart.
Written by Vivienne Anne Mackenzie Ward
The Long Goodbye
We join today to mourn your death,
Butt he losses began long ago.
Although your body stayed a while,
Your mind didn’t really know.
For you had got Alzheimer’s,
You failed to comprehend.
Your body went on living.
But your mind had reached its end.
Sow we've already said, "Goodbye",
To the person that we knew.
The person that we truly loved,
The person that was, "You".
And so we meet again today,
To toast your body’s end.
For it was true and faithful,
Until right at the end.
And now, when we remember,
We'll think of all the rest.
We'll concentrate on earlier,
And remember all the best.
For in the real scheme of things,
Your illness wasn't long.
Compared to all the happiness,
You brought your whole life long.
We think of you as yesterday,
When you were fit and well.
And when we're asked about you,
It's those things that we'll tell.
And so we meet in remembrance,
Of a mind so fit and true.
We're here to pay our last respects
To say that, "We love you".
Written by Unknown
No Matter What
But what about when we are dead and gone, will you love me then, does love go on?”
Look at the stars, how they shine and glow, some of the stars died a long time ago.Still they shine in the evening skies, for you see…love like starlight never dies…
Written by Debi Gliori
An extract from The Wind in the Willows
He saw clearly how plain and simple - how narrow, even - it all was; but clearly,too, how much it all meant to him, and the special value of some such an choragein one’s existence. He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid spaces, to turn his back on sun and air and all they offered him and creep home and stay there; the upper world was all too strong, it called to him still, even down there, and he knew he must return to the larger stage. But it was good to think he had this to come back to, this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome.
An extract from Fahrenheit 451
Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted,you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so as long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away.
An extract from Charlotte’s Web
You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die. A spider’s life can’t help being something of a mess,with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.
Intimations of Immortality
What though the radiance which was once so bright~
Be now forever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind.
An extract from The Velveteen Rabbit
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.“When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “orbit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become.It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes dropout and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
“I suppose you are real?” said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.
“The Boy’s Uncle made me Real,” he said. “That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”
An extract from The Little Prince
“People have stars, but they aren’t the same. For travellers, the stars are guides. For other people, they’re nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they’re problems. For my business man, they were gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you’ll have stars like nobody else.
“What do you mean?”
“When you look up at the sky at night, since I’ll be living on one of them, since I’ll be laughing on one of them, for you it’ll be as if all the stars are laughing. You’ll have stars that can laugh!”
And he laughed again.
“And when you’re consoled (everyone is eventually consoled), you’ll be glad you’ve known me. You’ll always be my friend. You’ll feel like laughing with me. And you’ll open your windows sometimes just for the fun of it … And your friends will be amazed to see you laughing while you’re looking up at the sky. Then you’ll tell them, ‘Yes, it’s the stars; they always make me laugh!’ And they’ll think you’re crazy. It’ll be a nasty trick I played on you …”
Extracts from Happy Potter
To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. – Albus Dumbledore
You think the dead we loved truly ever leave us? You think we don’t recall them more clearly in times of great trouble? Your father isalive in you, Harry, and shows himself plainly when you have need of him. –Albus Dumbledore
It’s cruel that I got to spend so much time with James and Lily, and you so little. But know this; the ones that love us never really leave us. – Sirius Black
Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living and above all,those who live without love. – Albus Dumbledore
We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are. – Sirius Black
Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.– Albus Dumbeldore
My Trumpet Is Silent
My trumpet is silent
As it is with my life too
No more shall I play for you
There is nothing left to do
Don’t be sad for me today
For me please do not weep
Call upon your memories
They are yours to keep
The band upstairs is striking up
For me they now await
To play again I now can do
As I pass through heaven’s gate
The audience is waiting
Familiar faces all around
Once again the baton strikes
And I hear that familiar sound.
It’s grand to be reunited
With band members both old and new
We start to play it sounds so good
Just perfect like I expected it would
Written by Unknown
Songbird
Every songbird has its own unique song
And yours is my favourite.
Would my first steps be as hasty if not for its tempo?
Would my spirits be as high if not for its key?
Your song walked with me as I grew up
Like an underscore, lifting me.
And I have always listened, and I always will.
For no matter how quiet your tune gets,
As the years go on and time passes,
Even if it fades out to a gentle hum,
The echo of your melody will continue to guide me
And shape me into the woman that I will become.
So, although you aren’t here to sing it,
The beat of your song will continue in our hearts.
Its steady rhythm will keep us on track.
And now every time I hear a songbird’s song,
I will think of you, and I will sing back.
Written by Georgia Lound
The Musicians
The strings of my heart were strung by Pleasure,
And I laughed when the music fell on my ear,
For he and Mirth played a joyful measure,
And they played so loud that I could not hear
The wailing and mourning of souls a-weary –
The strains of sorrow that floated around,
For my heart’s notes rang out loud and cheery,
And I heard no other sound.
Mirth and Pleasure, the music brothers,
Played louder and louder in joyful glee;
But sometimes a discord was heard by others –
Though only the rhythm was heard by me.
Louder and louder, faster and faster
The hands of the brothers played strain on strain,
When all of a sudden a Mighty Master
Swept them aside; and Pain,
Pain,the musician, the soul-refiner,
Restrung the strings of my quivering heart,
And the air that he played was a plaintive minor,
So sad that the tear-drops were forced to start;
Each note was an echo of awful anguish,
As shrill as solemn, as sharp as slow,
And my soul for a reason seemed to languish
And faint with its weight of woe.
With skilful hands that were never weary,
This Master of Music played strain on strain,
And between the bars of the miserere,
He drew up the strings of my heart again,
And I was filled with a vague, strange wonder,
To see that they did not snap in two.
‘They are drawn so tight, they will break as sunder, ‘
I thought, but instead, they grew,
In the hands of the Master, firmer and stronger;
And I could hear on the stilly air –
Now my ears were deafened by Mirth no longer –
The sound of sorrow, and grief, and despair;
And my soul grew kinder and tender to others,
My nature grew sweeter, my mind grew broad,
And I held all men to be my brothers,
Linked by the chastening rod.
My soul was lifted to God and heaven,
And when on my heart-strings fell again
The hands of Mirth, and Pleasure, even,
There was never a discord to mar the strain.
For Pain, the musician, and soul-refiner,
Attuned the strings with a master hand,
And whether the music be major or minor,
It is always sweet and grand.
Written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Poem for a Painter
We gather here to say goodbye
To one who painted words up high
A sign writer of great renown
Whose legacy will not fade down
From humble beginnings he began
With paint and brush in weathered hand
He crafted signs with care and pride
That caught the eye and turned the tide
For builders big he lent his skill
To mark their works with word and quill
With each new job he grew in fame
And built a legacy with his name
As time went by he changed his ways
Embracing tech in all its craze
He learned to wield a digital pen
And took his craft to new frontiers then
But through it all his heart stayed true
To paint and word and letter too
And as we lay him down to rest
We honor all he did the best
His signs will stand the test of time
And bear his mark for years to chime
And we will hold his memory dear
With gratitude for all he brought her
Written by unknown
Using Poems and Readings at a Funeral
Hope you found this resource article useful.We are pleased that nowadys there isnt a right or wrong way to hold a funeral. After all everyone is unique,so should their funeral be. As a female led independent funeral directors based in Somerset, our best advice is to take your time to give careful thought when planning a funeral - we are only a phone call away if you need us.