Solomon's poetry thread

[grinder]

The Image..

 

I remember I was down town,

walking passed this shop,

It was one with a mirror backed design.

When I glanced and saw this old man,

and I came to a dead stop,

as I realised the Image there was mine.

 

One half wanted to stand staring,

the other to move on,

as I stood there undecided what to do.

Then two young ladies with a pram,

nearly ran me down,

I smiled , said I was sorry, let them through.

 

Now I knew I was no chicken,

And I've never looked that good,

but the image looking back gave me a fright.

It seemed with out me knowing,

I had suddenly grown old,

and I'd become my Father over night...

 

 

Grinder. 2010

[redrobbo]

My Mum has just died. I am taking the service at her funeral next week, just as I did for my Dad barely five months ago.

 

This is the poem that I have chosen to read at her funeral. The author is anonymous.

 

As we look back over time

We find ourselves wondering .....

Did we remember to thank you enough

For all you have done for us?

For all the times you were by our sides

To help and support us .....

To celebrate our successes

To understand our problems

And accept our defeats?

Or for teaching us by your example,

The value of hard work, good judgement,

Courage and integrity?

We wonder if we ever thanked you

For the sacrifices you made.

To let us have the very best?

And for the simple things

Like laughter, smiles and times we shared?

If we have forgotten to show our

Gratitude enough for all the things you did,

We're thanking you now.

And we are hoping you knew all along,

How much you meant to us.

 

And this is part of a poem that I chose to read at my father's funeral. It is by William Shakespeare.

 

Fear no more the heat of the sun,

Nor the furious winter's rages;

Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone, and taken thy wages:

Golden lads and girls all must,

As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

 

Fear no more the frown of 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 finished joy and moan.

All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee, and come to dust.

[hazel]

I'm so sorry Red about your Mum, it takes an awful lot of courage to read out in public what you wish to say and I think the poem you have chosen expresses beautifully what you must feeling at this time.

I know a little how you must feel

Keep strong

X X X

Hazel

[Circa]

My Mum has just died. I am taking the service at her funeral next week, just as I did for my Dad barely five months ago.

 

You've got some guts Redrobbo - hope all goes well.

[redrobbo]

I'm so sorry Red about your Mum, it takes an awful lot of courage to read out in public what you wish to say and I think the poem you have chosen expresses beautifully what you must feeling at this time.

I know a little how you must feel

Keep strong

X X X

Hazel

 

Thank you Hazel.

 

Much love to you, my special forum friend. xXx

 

You've got some guts Redrobbo - hope all goes well.

 

Thank you Circa.

 

I am, somewhat painfuly, writing the whole service - which I will take in its entirety. I did this for my Dad at his request as he didn't want a minister of religion doing it. Little did I know that Mum would die so soon afterwards.

 

The poems I chose for both of my parents funerals bring me some comfort. My Dad, (although 89 when he died), was, in the words of Shakespeare's poem, still "a golden lad".

 

Although I have posted the following poem on this thread already, I'd like to post it again, this time in memory of Syd & Poppy, and their abiding love for each other which lasted through 62 years of marriage.

 

anyone lived in a pretty how town by e e cummings -

 

anyone lived in a pretty how town

(with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't he danced his did

 

Women and men(both little and small)

cared for anyone not at all

they sowed their isn't they reaped their same

sun moon stars rain

 

children guessed(but only a few

and down they forgot as up they grew

autumn winter spring summer)

that noone loved him more by more

 

when by now and tree by leaf

she laughed his joy she cried his grief

bird by snow and stir by still

anyone's any was all to her

 

someones married their everyones

laughed their cryings and did their dance

(sleep wake hope and then)they

said their nevers they slept their dream

 

stars rain sun moon

(and only the snow can begin to explain

how children are apt to forget to remember

with up so floating many bells down)

 

one day anyone died i guess

(and noone stooped to kiss his face)

busy folk buried them side by side

little by little and was by was

 

all by all and deep by deep

and more by more they dream their sleep

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

 

Women and men(both dong and ding)

summer autumn winter spring

reaped their sowing and went their came

sun moon stars rain

[pattricia]

So sorry to hear about your mum Robbo.I lost mine 5 years ago, and wish Id had a poem like that to read to myself.

[Circa]

I am, somewhat painfuly, writing the whole service - which I will take in its entirety. I did this for my Dad at his request as he didn't want a minister of religion doing it. Little did I know that Mum would die so soon afterwards.

 

They must've knew you had it in you. I could never hold it together to do something like that. I was going to post a poem I wrote about my Mum dying - but it's just too sad! And it was 12 yeast ago (on Saturday).

[Solomon1]

How beautiful.

 

thanks babe

[Solomon1]

My Mum has just died

 

sorry to hear about your ma, red

[Solomon1]

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal"

 

~ From a headstone in Ireland