My closest friend's mother is dying of cancer and is in the last weeks of her life. They are working with her on planning her funeral and I said I would try and find some poems that might be appropriate/comforting. Please, not the Auden poem from 4 weddings...

This is a woman who was full of life and energy, always a whirl of activity.

Thanks in advance.

-- rachel farnsworth (Rachelfarn@aol.com), September 08, 1999

Answers

Rachel - I spoke at the funeral of my dear friend who also died of cancer, a man full of life and vigour. The poem was by Christina Rosetti. You can find a copy here: http://www.musicfanclubs.org/cure/lyrics/rosetti.html

It is realistic, not mawkish, and may be suitable. Best wishes. JO

-- (John.MacPherson@btinternet.com), September 18, 1999.

If I should die tonight ( keep not your kisses for my death) by Arabella Eugenia Smith - ca 1844 Ohio -1916 California If I should die to-night, My friends would look upon my quiet face Before they laid it in its resting-place, And deem that death had left it almost fair; And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair, Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness, And fold my hands with lingering caress, -- Poor hands, so empty and so cold to-night!

If I should die to-night, My friends would call to mind with loving thought Some kindly deed the icy hands had wrought, Some gentle word the frozen lips had said, Errands on which the willing feet had sped; The memory of my selfishness and pride, My hasty words would all be put aside, And so I should be loved and mourned to-night.

If I should die to-night, Even hearts estranged would turn once more to me, Recalling other days remorsefully; The eyes that chill me with averted glance Would look upon me as of yore, perchance, And soften in the old familiar way, For who could war with dumb, unconscious clay? So I might rest, forgiven of all to-night.

Oh, friends! I pray to-night, Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow: The way is lonely, let me feel them now. Think gently of me; I am travelworn; My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn. Forgive, oh, hearts estranged, forgive, I plead! When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need The tenderness for which I long to-night.

-- ilza (ilza@pobox.com), September 08, 1999.

Parable of immortality ( A ship leaves . . . ) by Henry Van Dyke - 1852 - 1933 I am standing by 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, and I stand and watch until at last she hangs like a peck of white cloud just where the sun and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says, 'There she goes!

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 just as able to bear her load of living freight to the places of destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says, 'There she goes! ' There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout : 'Here she comes!'

................................. Life is a river that runs (my ship may pass from sight, the river bends) by Thomas Jessop

Life is a river that runs from dark to light, And even though my ship may pass from sight, It does not mean that this is the end, It simply means the river bends.

Life is full of trial and sorrow But always remember that there is a tomorrow. That upon the river of life, there is more than strife, There is a wonderful and incredible life, yours. Even though there may be trouble, Let us remember that those troubles may burst like a bubble, If we but have charity and cherish (the truth and right), Lest we perish and have no might.

Life has its happiness and joys, Which are not toys. We need to play and appreciate, At least every today; not only in May. These joys can last forever, If we but hold fast to truth and to the right, For right is might! These joys can last forever, For we will not say to one another "never" or "not ever". For the welcome will not ever end, Even when the river bends!

Life is a river that runs from dark to light, And even though my ship may pass from sight, It does not mean that this is the end, It simply means the river bends.

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

Carried on the wind (Do not stand at my grave and weep ) by J. Brunner From the moment that he learned that she was gone He began to remember all the wonderful things they'd done And the things that she wanted to be when she grew old ended before they started and he felt his heart grow cold

And then the wind began to blow and on it he heard her voice Sweet as he remembered telling him he had a choice He could either dwell on the past Or he could choose to see her Still alive in the world they'd had

The wind said: Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there, I do not sleep Do not stand at my grave and cry I am not there, I did not die

From the moment that he heard what the wind had said That she was not alive because he had thought her dead And if he remembered And if he did his part She would live forever Forever within his heart

Because the wind said: 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 sunlight on ripened grain I am the gentle autumn's rain When you waken in the morning's hush I am the sweet uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight I am the soft star that shines at night Do not stand at my grave and cry I am not there, I did not die.

-- ilza (ilza@pobox.com), September 08, 1999.