Funeral Poems for Mom

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.

— Mary Elizabeth Frye

Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name, Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone, Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we shared together. Let my name 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 round the corner. All is well.

— Henry Scott-Holland

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 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 you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

— Christina Rossetti

You can shed tears that she is gone, Or you can smile because she has lived.

— David Harkins

Copyright David Harkins. Used with permission in many funeral settings.

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving 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, 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 says, "There, she is gone," there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!" And that is dying...

— Henry Van Dyke

If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!

— Rudyard Kipling

When tomorrow starts without me And I'm not there to see, If the sun should rise and find your eyes All filled with tears for me.

— David M. Romano

Copyright David M. Romano Estate.

God saw you getting tired And a cure was not to be, So He put His arms around you And whispered, 'Come to me.' With tearful eyes we watched you, And saw you pass away. Although we loved you dearly, We could not make you stay. A golden heart stopped beating, Hard-working hands at rest. God broke our hearts to prove to us He only takes the best.

— Unknown

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.

— Unknown

When I come to the end of the day 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 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 all must take, And each must go alone. It's all a part of the Maker'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.

— Unknown

If roses grow in heaven, Lord please pick a bunch for me, Place them in my father's arms And tell him they're from me.

— Dolores M. Garcia

Copyright Dolores M. Garcia.

Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair. It's had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floor — Bare. But all the time I'se been a-climbin' on, And reachin' landin's, And turnin' corners, And sometimes goin' in the dark Where there ain't been no light. So boy, don't you turn back. Don't you set down on the steps 'Cause you finds it's kinder hard. Don't you fall now — For I'se still goin', honey, I'se still climbin', And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

— Langston Hughes

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

— Jenny Joseph

Copyright Jenny Joseph Estate. Published by Souvenir Press.

God made a wonderful mother, A mother who never grows old; He made her smile of the sunshine, And He moulded her heart of pure gold; In her eyes He placed bright shining stars, In her cheeks, fair roses you see; God made a wonderful mother, And He gave that dear mother to me.

— Unknown

Mother, you were just a girl, So many years ago. You had your loves and had your dreams.

— Dick Underwood

Copyright Dick Underwood.

I had a Mother who read to me Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea, Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth, "Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath. I had a Mother who read to me Tales of the Norsemen fierce and free, And I felt the thrill of the great, grey seas Rocking my dreams on my Mother's knees. I had a Mother who read to me Of lands beyond the purple sea, Where castles glittered in the sun, And each page turned was another one. Richer than I you can never be — I had a Mother who read to me.

— Strickland Gillilan

Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky, Hundreds of shells on the shore together, Hundreds of birds that go singing by, Hundreds of lambs in the sunny weather. Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn, Hundreds of bees in the purple clover, Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn, But only one mother the wide world over.

— Unknown

I cannot say, and I will not say That she is dead. She is just away! With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand, She has wandered into an unknown land, And left us dreaming how very fair It needs must be, since she lingers there. And you — oh you, who the wildest yearn For an old-time step, and the glad return, Think of her faring on, as dear In the love of There as the love of Here. Think of her still as the same. I say, She is not dead — she is just away!

— James Whitcomb Riley (adapted)

A golden heart stopped beating, Hard-working hands at rest. God broke our hearts to prove to us He only takes the best.

— Unknown

She always leaned to watch for us, Anxious if we were late, In winter by the window, In summer by the gate; And though we mocked her tenderly, Who had such foolish care, The long way home would seem more safe Because she waited there. Her thoughts were all so full of us, She never could forget! And so I think that where she is She must be watching yet, Waiting till we come home to her, Anxious if we are late — Watching from Heaven's window, Leaning from Heaven's gate.

— Margaret Widdemer

It was you who held me together, You who gave me strength, You who wrapped your love around me Like a sheltering wing.

— Maya Angelou

Copyright Maya Angelou Estate. Published by Random House.

Our Mum is such a special word, The one we love the most. Her name is always on our lips, The one we love to boast. She helped us through so many things And always understood. She tried so hard to guide us right, To make our lives so good. She kept us safe within her arms And wiped away our tears. She filled our hearts with so much joy Throughout our growing years. Although we'll miss her more than words Could ever hope to say, Our Mum will live within our hearts And that is where she'll stay.

— Unknown

Your mother is always with you. She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

— Jane Jenkins Herlong

Copyright Jane Jenkins Herlong.

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

— Unknown

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

— Unknown

There's magic in a Mother's touch, And sunshine in her smile. There's love in everything she does, To make our lives worthwhile. You can see her gentle beauty In the kindness that she shows, A tender hugging warm embrace That everybody knows. She's the inspiration of our lives, She's the heart of all we do. With every bit of love she gives, She makes our world brand new.

— Unknown

I am my Mother's garden, I am her legacy, The seeds she sowed within my heart Are all I'll ever need. She taught me how to love the world, To see the good in all, Her gentle words still guide me Whenever shadows fall. I am my Mother's garden, Her love blooms on in me, And though she's gone from here today Her spirit sets me free.

— Unknown

From the moment of my birth Those hands that rocked the cradle Were the finest things on earth. They held me close and kept me safe, They wiped away my tears, They soothed my hurts and calmed my fears Across the growing years. Those gentle hands that guided me Through all my childhood days, That taught me, held me, lifted me In oh so many ways. Now those dear hands are still at last, But this I know is true: The love those hands once gave to me Will last my whole life through.

— Unknown

I often contemplate my childhood days, Remembering all the good times that we had, And it occurs to me in many ways How very blessed I was to have you, Mum.

— Joanna Fuchs

Copyright Joanna Fuchs.

With these hands I've painted walls, Cleaned up after meals and falls, Washed the dishes, wiped the floors, Polished handles, painted doors.

— Pam Ayres

Copyright Pam Ayres.

She'd say, 'sit down, love, have a cup of tea,' And somehow make the whole world right. She solved the problems of the universe With a biscuit and a cuppa every night.

— Michael Ashby

Copyright Michael Ashby.

She was our mum, our world, our heart, She was there right from the start. She held us close and kept us safe, Her love, a warm and sacred place. She taught us how to laugh and love, A gift sent from the stars above. And though she's gone, she's always near, Her voice, her love, forever here.

— Unknown

O mother-my-love, if you'll give me your hand, And go where I ask you to wander, I will lead you away to a beautiful land— The Dreamland that's waiting out yonder. We'll walk in a sweet-posied garden out there Where moonlight and starlight are streaming, And the flowers and the birds are filling the air With the fragrance and music of dreaming. There'll be no little tired-out boy to undress, No questions or cares to perplex you; There'll be no little bruises or bumps to caress, Nor patching of stockings to vex you. For I'll rock you away on a silver-dew stream And sing you asleep when you're weary, And no one shall know of our beautiful dream But you and your own little dearie.

— Eugene Field

To-day's your natal day; Sweet flowers I bring: Mother, accept I pray My offering. And may you happy live, And long us bless; Receiving as you give Great happiness.

— Christina Rossetti