Adult Memorial Poems
In Memoriam
Our lives go on without you,
But nothing is the same,
We have to hide our heartache,
When someone speaks your name,
Sad are the hearts that love you,
Silent are the tears that fall,
Living without you is the hardest part of all,
You did so many things for us,
Your heart was so kind and true,
And when we needed someone,
We could always count on you,
The special years will not return,
When we are all together,
But with the love in our hearts,
You walk with us forever.
Anon
Don't Weep
Don't weep at my grave,
For I am not there,
I've a date with a butterfly
to dance in the air.
I'll be singing in the sunshine,
Wild and free,
Playing tag with the wind,
Please dont weep for me.
How can I live
What am I to do
Now apart of my heart,
Is buried with you?
Anon
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".
Gaynor Llewellyn
Memories in the Heart
Feel no guilt in laughter, she knows how much you care,
Feel no sorrow in a smile that she's not here to share,
You cannot grieve forever, she would not want you to,
She'd hope that you can carry on, the way you always do,
So talk about the good times and the ways 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, a day,
That brings her back as clearly as though she were still here,
And fills you with the feelings that she is always near,
For if you keep these moments, you will never be apart,
And she will live forever locked safe within your heart.
Anon
Warm Summer Sun
Warm summer sun, shine kindly here;
Warm southern wind, blow softly here;
Green sod above, lie light, lie light;
Good night, dear heart, good night, good night.
Mark Twain
It's a Time of Heartfelt Sadness
It's a time of heartfelt sadness,
When a loved one passes on,
But know your loved one lives in joy,
And peace where he (or she) has gone.
Oh how much he will be missed,
That's where the sadness lies,
But others who have missed him,
now rejoice in Heaven's skies.
We know one day we'll join him,
Because our time on earth will flee,
We'll then live with him forever,
Throughout all eternity.
Ron Tranmer
The Broken Chain
We little knew that morning that God was going to call your name,
In life we loved you dearly,in death we do the same.
It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone.
For part of us went with you, the day God called you home.
You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide,
And though we cannot see you, you are always at our side.
Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same,
But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.
Ron Tranmer
Should You Go First
Should you go first and I remain,
To walk the road alone,
I'll live in memory's garden, dear,
With happy days we've known
In Spring I'll wait for roses red,
When fades the lilacs blue,
In early fall, when brown leaves call,
I'll catch a glimpse of you.
Should you go first, and I remain,
For battles to be fought,
Each thing you've touched along the way,
Will be a hallowed spot,
I'll hear your voice;
I'll see your smile,
Though blindly I may grope,
The memory of your helping hand,
Will buoy me on with hope.
Should you go first and I remain,
To finish with the scroll,
No length'ning shadows ahall creep in,
To make this life seem droll,
We've known so much of happiness,
We've had our cup of joy,
And memory is one gift of God,
That death cannot destroy,
Should you go first and I remain,
One thing I'd have you do;
Walk slowly down that long, lone path,
For soon I'll follow you,
I'll want to know each step you take,
That I may walk the same,
For some day down that lonely road,
You'll hear me call your name.
A.K. Rowswell
A Child of Mine
I'll lend you for a little while,
A child of mine, God said,
For you to love the while she lives,
And mourn for when she's dead,
It may be six or seven years,
Or forty-two or three,
But will you, till I call her back,
Take care of her for me?
She'll bring her charms to gladden you,
And should her stay be brief,
You'll have her lovely memories,
As a solace for your grief,
I cannot promise she will stay,
For all from earth returns,
But there are lessons taught below,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the whole world over,
In my search for teachers true,
And from all beings that crowd life's land,
I have chosen you,
Now, will you give her all your love,
Nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to take,
This lent child back again.
I fancied that I heard you say,
"Dear Lord, Thy will be done.
For all the joys Thy child will bring,
The risk of grief we'll run,
We will shelter her with tenderness,
We'll love her while we may -
And for the happiness we have now know,
Forever grateful stay."
But should the angels come for her,
Much sooner than we'd planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.
After Glow
I'd like the memory of me,
To be a happy one,
I'd like to leave an afterglow,
Of smiles when day 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 I leave,
Behind when day is done.
(written by Helen Lowrie Marshall and published in 1958.)
Remember
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more, day by day,
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand,
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while,
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave,
A vestige of the thoughts that I once had,
Better by far you should forget and smile,
Than that you should remember and be sad.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
If
If you can keep your head when all about you,
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream-and not make dreams your master;
If you can think-and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster,
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken,
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop to build'em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings,
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew,
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you,
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!".
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings-nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute,
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And,which is more-you'll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling
In Memory
Serene and beautiful and very wise,
Most erudite in curious Grecian lore,
You lay and read your learned books, and bore,
A weight of unshed tears and silent sighs.
The song within your heart could never rise,
Until love bade it spread its wings and soar.
Nor could you look on Beauty's face before,
A poet's burning mouth had touched your eyes.
Love is made out of ecstasy and wonder;
Love is a poignant and accustomed pain.
It is a burst of Heaven-shaking thunder;
It is a linnet's fluting after rain.
Love's voice is through your song;
Above and under,
And in each note to echo and remain.
A red rose is His Sacred Heart,
A white rose is His face,
And His breath has turned the barren,
World to a rich and flowery place.
He is the Rose of Sharon,
His gardener am I,
And I shall drink His fragrance,
In Heaven when I die.
Joyce Kilmer
Not In Vain
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain:
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
Emily Dickinson
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost
God's 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,
With the help of his angels they flew you to your heavenly place.
Gods garden must be beautiful, he always takes the best,
He knew 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 too hard to climb,
He closed your weary eyelids and whispered "Peace be Thine",
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.
Anon
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both,
And be one traveler, long I stood,
And looked down one as far as I could,
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there,
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay,
In leaves no step had trodden black,
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh,
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
God's Lent Child
"I'll lend you for a little while
A child of mine" God said -
For you to love the while he lives
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years
Or forty two or three
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care of him for me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you
And, should his stay be brief,
You'll have his nicest memories
As solace for his grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return
But, there are lessons taught below,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the whole world over,
In my search for teachers true,
And from the things that crowd life's lane
I have chosen you.
Now will you give him all your love,
Nor think the labour vain,
Nor hate me when I come to take
This lent child back again?
I fancied that I heard them say,
"Dear Lord Thy Will Be Done"
For all the joys thy child will bring
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known
Forever grateful stay.
But, should thy Angels call for him
Much sooner than we planned,
We'll brave the grief that comes
And try to understand.
All is Well
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me and if you want to, 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 a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was;
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
For an interval,
Somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott-Holland.
Footprints in the Sand
One night a man had a dream. He dreamed,
He was walking along the beach with the LORD.
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene he noticed two sets of,
Footprints in the sand: one belonging,
To him, and the other to the LORD.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him,
He looked back at the footprints in the sand.
He noticed that many times along the path of,
His life there was only one set of footprints.
He also noticed that it happened at the very,
Lowest and saddest times in his life.
This really bothered him and he,
Questioned the LORD about it:
"LORD, you said that once I decided to follow,
you, you'd walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most,
troublesome times in my life,
there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why when,
I needed you most you would leave me."
The LORD replied: "My son, my precious child,
I love you and I would never leave you.
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints,
it was then that I carried you."
Below Par
It's a beautiful day on the golf course.
There's not a sound to be heard
But a zephyr-like breeze
As it teases the trees
And competes with the song of a bird.
You tee off with utter perfection.
Your swing is a joy to the eyes.
The ball's splendid in flight,
But veers to the right
And gives you a lovely surprise.
It nestles up close to the target,
The best that it has ever been.
You feel so inspired,
A putt is required
As you stand full of hope on the green.
You take a look in your golf bag.
You rummage around like a mole.
With encouraging mutter,
You take out a putter
To sink the ball in the hole.
So the morning progresses.
You've never encountered such play.
You don't want to hunker,
Down in the bunker,
And fortune smiles sweetly today.
At the eighteenth your card is a picture,
A symphony full of low scores.
You're well below par
And feel like a star.
"I'll have a double what's yours?"
That's how you'll be remembered
Every bright, sunny day.
As you just follow through
On a green, fresh with dew,
We'll pretend that you've not gone away.
Mary B Lyons BSc (Hons)
'The Lonely Shade' ISBN 9780950821214
Wordpower, PO Box 1190, Sandhurst, GU47 7BW
God Saw That She Was Getting Tired
God saw that she was getting tired,
A cure was not to be.
So he put His arms around her,
And whispered, "Come with Me."
With tearful eyes, we watched her suffer.
And saw her fade away.
Although we loved her dearly,
We could not make her stay.
A golden heart stopped beating.
Hard working hands to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us,
He only takes "the best".
You Walk Beside Me, Every Day
The days are long without you here,
I've sat and cried a thousand tears,
That cruel fate, did my life, destroy
And take away my lovely boy,
But you can wipe my tears away,
You walk beside me, every day.
The looming years that, more or less,
Just fill me with unhappiness,
Are speckled with some happy times,
When rainbows brighten up the skies.
I know you're never far away,
You walk beside me, every day.
There will be anniversaries
And celebrations, that you'll miss.
Oh, Adam, how we'll miss you, then!
Your booming laugh, your cheeky grin,
But you'll be there, you'll find a way,
You walk beside us, every day.
Sometimes I dream that I'm awake,
And find it's all a big mistake,
That you are here! You're safe and well!
With hugs and smiles and tales to tell,
And in my mind I hear you say,
"I walk beside you, every day."
The road ahead is hard and steep,
With hills to climb and furrows, deep,
And life will never be as good,
As when you, here beside us, stood,
But we believe that here you stay,
You walk beside us, every day.
At night you gently touch my cheek,
And memories are mine to keep,
Of my sweet son, so deeply missed.
Since that first day, your head I kissed,
Inside my heart, forever stay,
And walk beside me, every day.
Miss Me, But 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 ñ but not too long,
And not with your head bowed low,
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me but let me go.
For this is a journey that we must all take,
And each must go alone,
It's all a part of the Master's plan,
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely, and sick of heart,
Go to the friends we know,
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds,
Miss me but let me go.
Anon
Think of Me
I am not gone,
I never left,
Though through your tears,
You were bereft,|
For I am waiting,
In the room next door,
Where one day we'll be together
Forever more.
Think of me in a flower,
Think of me in the rain,
Think of me when you hear,
The larks' sweet refrain,
Enjoy the warm sunlight,
I'll chase away the cold,
Cherish what we shared,
And your heart will never grow old.
For this is my love,
That I bestow on you,
To be always there,
In what ever you do,
Walking in the breeze,
Or watching the clouds sail by,
Just remember me,
I never did die.
Andrew Grubers
He 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 come back-
Or you can open your eyes and see what 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 for the past-
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him only that he is gone-
Or you can cherish his 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.
Author Unknown
Indian Prayer
When I am dead,
Cry for me a little,
Think of me sometimes,
But not too much.
Think of me now and again,
As I was in life,
At some moments it's pleasant to recall,
But not for long.
Leave me in peace,
And I shall leave you in peace,
And while you live,
Let your thoughts be with the living.
Traditional An Angel from the Book of Life,
Wrote down my baby's birth,
And whispered as she closed the book,
"Too Beautiful for Earth".
Author Unknown
Living Bouquets
When I quit this mortal shore,
And mosey ëround this earth no more,
Do not weep and do not sob;
I may have found a better job.
Don't go and buy a large bouquet,
For which you'll find it hard to pay,
Don't mope around and feel all blue;
I may be better off than you.
Don't tell the folks I was a Saint,
Or any old thing that I ain't.
If you have jam like that to spread,
Please hand it out before I'm dead.
If you have roses bless your soul,
Just pin one in my buttonhole,
While I'm alive and well today;
Don't wait until I'm gone away.
Mabeel Easle
Death Be Not Proud
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee,
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not soe;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure then from thee, much more must flow;
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones and soules' deliverie.
Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, war and sickness dwell;
And poppie or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy strake. Why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more. Death, thou shalt die.
John Donne
The Dead Are Not Under The Earth
The dead are not under the earth,
They are in the tree that rustles,
They are in the woods that groan,
They are in the water that runs,
They are in the water that sleeps,
They are in the hut, they are in the crowd,
The dead are not dead.,
Those who are dead are never gone,
They are in the breast of a woman
They are in the child that is wailing and in the fire that flames.
The dead are not under the earth
They are in the fire that is dying
They are in the grass that is weeping|
They are in the whimpering rocks
They are in the forest, they are in the house
They are not dead.
When my ancestors talk about the Creator they say:
He is with us.
We sleep with him. We hunt with him. We dance with him.
Francis Nnaggenda
If I Should Die
If I should die and leave you here awhile,
Be not like others, sore undone, who keep,
Long vigils by the silent dust, and weep.
For my sake turn again to life and smile,
Nerving thy heart and trembling hand to do
Something to comfort other hearts than thine.
Complete those dear unfinished tasks of mine
And I, perchance, may therein comfort you.
A. Price Hughes
Farewell My Friends
Farewell My Friends,
It was beautiful,
As long as it lasted,
The journey of my life.
I have no regrets,
Whatsoever said,
The pain I'll leave behind.
Those dear hearts,
Who love and care,
And the strings pulling,
At the heart and soul,
The strong arms,
That held me up,
When my own strength,
Let me down.
At the turning of my life,
I came across,
Good friends,
Friends who stood by me,
Even when 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.
Rabindranath Tagore
Remember
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into a silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day be day,
You tell me of your future that you'd plann'd-
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while,
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far that you should forget and smile,
Than you should remember and be sad.
Christina Rossetti
If I Should Go Before The Rest of You
If I should go before the rest of you,
Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone.
Nor when I'm gone speak in Sunday voice,
But be the usual selves that I have known.
Weep if you must,
Parting is hell,
But life goes on,
So sing as well.
I Don't Believe in Death
I don't believe in death,
Who comes in silent stealth,
He robs us only of a breath,
Not of a lifetime's wealth,
I don't believe in the tomb,
Imprisons us in earth,
It's but another loving womb,
Preparing our new birth,
I do believe in life,
Empowered from above,
Till freed from stress and worldly strife,
We soar through realms above,
I do believe that then,
In joy that never ends,
We'll meet all those we've loved, again,
And celebrate our friends.
I Have Seen Death Too Often
I have seen death too often to believe in death.
It is not an ending, but a withdrawal.
As one who finishes a long journey
Stills the motor, turns off the lights,
Steps from his car,
And walks up the path to the home that awaits him.
Death Stands Above Me
Death stands above me, whispering low
I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know
Is, there is not a word of fear.
Walter Savage Landor
Goodbye My Family, My Life Is Past
I loved you all to the very last,
Weep not for me, but courage take,
Love each other for my sake,
For those you love don't go away,
They walk beside you every day.
Time
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.
The Sailing Ship
What is dying?
I am standing on the seashore.
A ship sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object and I stand watching her,
Till at last she fades from the horizon,
And someone at my side says, "She is gone!" Gone where?
Gone from my sight, that is all;
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her,
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her;
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, "She is gone",
There are others who are watching her coming,
And other voices take up a glad shout,
"There she comes" and that is dying.
Bishop Charles Henry Brent
