Readings ideas for a lovely lady?

[CotswoldLass]

Just thought some may have some ideas here....

My best friend's mother died at the weekend, a much beloved, very elegant and lovely lady. Her name was Marguerite, a ver keen gardener.

I am just wondering whether anyone has come across any poems or such like that may be fitting for the service?

Appreciated, CLx

[CotswoldLass]

[Robert_Brenchley]

Not really, but sympathy anyway. My wife's uncle died at the weekend, so I know how you feel!

[pansy]

Hi, I'm really sorry to hear of your sad news. When my niece died we had this read at her funeral,

"Remember Me"
(song by Deanna Edwards)
Remember me whenever you see a sunrise,
Remember me whenever you see a star,
Remember me whenever you see a rainbow
Or woods in autumn colors from afar.

Remember me whenever you see the roses
Or seagulls sailing high in a sky of blue.
Remember me whenever you see waves
Shining in the sun.
And remember, I'll be remembering you!

Remember me whenever you see a teardrop,
Or meadows still wet with the morning dew.
Remember me whenever you feel love
Growing in your heart.
And remember, I'll be remembering you!


Thinking of you all x

[CotswoldLass]

Thank you so much Robert and Pansy. Sympathies to Robert, fellow spirit at time like this? To ask a maybe silly question? Who is DEanna Edwards? What kind of music?

Appreciated, CLx

[pansy]

Oh dear, I'm really sorry I don't know. It was read as a poem, I didn't realise it was a song until I googled it just now. I just though what beautiful words they were.

[supersprout]

So sorry to hear of your loss CL. How lovely of you to be thinking about the right words. Might either of these fit?

To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill and a time to heal ...
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to lose and a time to seek;
a time to rend and a time to sew;
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.
ecclesiastes 3:1-8

The closing words of Beverley Nichols' 'A Thatched Roof':

I know that wherever I die, in the last moment, my spirit will fly to that white room over the quiet fields. I may die in poverty or in exile, but no man will be able to bar me from this place which I have loved and which is mine for always. It may be in some shabby hotel bedroom, in some southern country ... with a concierge knocking at the door, and peering in through the thickening dusk, to see if the old Englishman, who lives there alone, is still alive. Or in a cafe, when suddenly I see the mirrors darken before me, and the noise of the orchestra is blown darkly away by the last gusts, as the wind blows away the howling of a dog on the last winter nights. Or at sea, when the waves leap up for the last time, and remain stiff and frozen, whilst the immense sky closes in, with no star to give me light.

But wherever the hand of Death may seize me, near or far, rich or poor, alone or in a gay company, I shall escape him. I shall escape him utterly. Over sea and forest and city, in that strange tortured moment of consummation which all must know, I shall fly ... and I shall get there before Death. Yes ... I shall be in the white room over the quiet fields, even it is only for the last second, for the last 'look round'.

[Paulines7]

Very sorry to hear of the loss of your friend's mother CL.  When my mother passed away four years ago we had the poem "Do not stand at my grave and weep" printed on the back of the funeral service leaflet which we produced ourselves.  I think the poem is very touching in times of grief.  It can be found here:

http://www.businessballs.com/donotstandatmygraveandweep.htm

[grawrc]

Louis MacNeice: The sunlight on the garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

I can't read this one without shedding a tear as I read it at my sister's funeral some 10 years ago. She too was a green-fingered garden wizard.  Much sympathy to you and your friend.

[greyhound]

Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.
I have sent up my gladness on wings, to be lost in the blue of the sky. 
I have run and leapt with the rain, I have taken the wind to my breast. 
My cheek like a drowsy child to the face of the earth I have pressed. 
Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. 


I have kissed young Love on the lips, I have heard his song to the end. 
I have struck my hand like a seal in the loyal hand of a friend. 
I have known the peace of heaven, the comfort of work done well. 
I have longed for death in the darkness and risen alive out of hell. 
Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. 


I give a share of my soul to the world where my course is run. 
I know that another shall finish the task I must leave undone. 
I know that no flower, nor flint was in vain on the path I trod. 
As one looks on a face through a window through life I have looked on God. 
Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. 


â€" AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR 

[CotswoldLass]

Thank you all so much. There are some lovely words here. She was a traditional English rose, so we will be bearing that in mind. I'll put the ideas to my friend, her daughter. If anyone thinks of anything more, keep the ideas flowing.

CLx

[CotswoldLass]

If anyone has followed this thread , this is what I included in a condolence letter. Apparently it was read at the Queen Mother's funeral, but I felt it suited this lady and her family...

She is Gone
By Anonymous

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

You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
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 her and only that she'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 she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

[flossie]

Let the evening come


Let the light of the late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down

Let the circket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn.   Let the evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass.  Let stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down.  Let the shed
go black inside.   Let the evening come

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to the air in the lung
let the evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid.  God does not leave us
comfortless, so let the evening come.

Jayne Kenyon (1947-95)
From " Do not Go Gentle" - Poems for Funerals, edited by Neil Astley (Bloodaxe )

[prink13]

For my Grandma's funeral, nobody felt up to doing a reading etc. so we bought a copy of Des Lynam, (one of Grandma's faves) reading "if" which was played during the service.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00004WWVO/026-2202513-4186821?v=glance&n=229816

[pansy]

I dont  know if this is too late, and its quite short, but I just came across this and thought of you

A gentle rose whose beauty graced this earth
A loving soul, so caring full of mirth
I beg of thee, no songs of sorrow weep
But shout our hymns of praise, so all might keep
Her in our hearts for ever, for we have known
A gentle rose, that God now calls his own.

[CotswoldLass]

Pansy, thank you (and all of you). There is to be a cremation, then a memorial service. I will share you thoughts with the lovely lady's daughter, my dear friend. Pansy in fact I will send your lines (as they are short and very sweet) on a card tomorrow.

I really appreciate all your thoughts,

CLx

[pansy]

 :) You're most welcome, I'm pleased you liked them x

[triffid]

I hope this may not be too late -- it has been a favourite in my family of gardeners for many years (all gardeners understand its message of hope) and I hope its words are comforting to you and your friend.


excerpt from The Seed Shop, a poem by Muriel Stuart

Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dryâ€"
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.

Here in their safe and simple house of death
Sealed in their shells, a million roses leap;
Here I can blow a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep.

[CotswoldLass]

That is LOVELY Triffid. I'll copy it out and give it my friend, she'll empathise with it I'm sure. Thanks CLx