6  Funeral Poems For Mother

Use these funeral poems for Mother to express your thoughts and feelings for your Mom. Losing your Mother is a life changing loss as our Moms are always there for us. May these poems give you comfort.


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  1. Mother's Picture
    Poet: Caleb Davis Bradlee


    It always seems new!
    The smile is the same, the looks are as kind,
    And yet the dear voice I now fail to find.

    But out of the lips there does come a sound
    That gives a grand peace to all tilings around.
    days holy, when again I shall hear
    Thy sweet words of counsel, full of good cheer.

    Mother, I'll wait till I meet thee above,
    Ere I shall know of thy holiest love!
    No more partings then can harrow my heart,
    And God to us both all peace shall impart.



  2. Clasp My Mother's Hands
    Poet: Ellen H. M. Gates


    Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
    They're neither white nor small,
    And you, I know, would scarcely think
    That they were fair at all.
    I've looked on hands whose form and hue
    A sculptor's dream might be,
    Yet are those aged wrinkled hands
    Most beautiful to me.

    Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
    Though the heart was weary and sad.
    These patient hands kept toiling on.
    That the children might be glad.
    I almost weep, as looking back
    To childhood's distant day,
    I think how these hands rested not
    When mine were at their play.

    Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
    They're growing feeble now;
    For time and pain have left their mark
    On hand and heart and brow.
    Alas! Alas! the nearing time,
    And the sad, sad day to me,
    "When 'neath the daisies, out of sight,
    These hands will folded be.

    But oh, beyond this shadow-lamp.
    Where all is bright and fair,
    I know full well these dear old hands
    Will palms of victory bear.
    Where crystal streams, through endless years.
    Flow over golden sands.
    And where the old grow young again,
    I'll clasp my mother's hands.



  3. I Have No Mother Now
    Poet: Unknown


    I hear the soft wind sighing
    Tli rough every bush and tree,
    Where now her form is lying
    Away from love and me.
    Tears from mine eyes are starting,
    And sorrow shades my brow;
    Oh, weary was our parting -
    I have no mother now.

    I see the pale moon shining
    Upon the white head-stone;
    The rose-bush round it twining
    Is here like me, alone,
    And just like me is weeping
    Those dewdrops from the bough.
    Long time has she been sleeping -
    I have no mother now.

    My heart is ever lonely,
    My life is drear and sad;
    'Twas her dear presence only
    That made my spirit glad.
    From morning until even,
    Care rests upon my brow;
    She's gone from me to heaven -
    I have no mother now.



  4. To My Mother In Heaven
    Poet: E. K. Hervey


    I know thou art gone to the land of thy rest;
    Then, why should my soul be so sad?
    I know thou art gone where the weary are blest,
    And the mourner looks up and is glad;
    Where love has put off in the land of its birth,
    The stain it had gathered in this,
    And hope, the sweet singer that gladdened the earth,
    Lies asleep in the bosom of bliss.

    I know thou art gone where thy forehead is starred
    "With the beauty that dwelt in thy soul;
    Where the light of thy loveliness can not be marred,
    Nor thy heart be flung back from its goal.
    I know thou hast drunk of the Lethe that flows
    Through a land where they do not forget;
    That sheds over memory only repose,
    And takes from it only regret.

    This eye must be dark, that so long has been dim,
    Ere again it may gaze upon thine;
    But my heart has revealings of thee and thy home,
    In many a token and sign;
    I never look up, with a vow, to the sky
    But a light like thy beauty is there;
    And I hear a low murmur, like thine, in reply,
    When I pour out my spirit in prayer.

    In the far-away dwelling, wherever it be,
    I believe thou hast visions of mine;
    And the love that made all things as music to me,
    I have not yet learned to resign.
    In the hush of the night, on the waste of the sea,
    Or alone with the breeze on the hill,
    I have ever a presence that whispers of thee,
    And my spirit lies down and Is still.

    And though like a mourner that sits by a tomb,
    I am wrapped in a mantle of care;
    Yet the grief of my bosom - oh! call it not gloom -
    Is not the black grief of despair.
    By sorrow revealed, as the stars are by night,
    Far off a bright vision appears;
    And hope, like the rainbow - a creature of light-
    Is born, like the rainbow, in tears.



  5. The One We Call Mom
    Poet: Julie Hebert


    Sometimes our lives do not go our way,
    It leaves us broken and going astray.
    We are needing comfort and words that are calm.
    The only one who can do that, is the one we call mom.

    But life throws us curve balls and leads us another way,
    We dont all get our mom, sometimes she has to go away.
    We do our best to remember her teachings and live as she would,
    All we want is to make her proud and be so very good.

    There will be days of anguish and days we are sad,
    Those days we will wish she was here and we get mad.
    Someday in the distance, we will find her again,
    And that day will be glorious and filled with zen.



  6. Gone Home
    Poet: Emily Huntington Miller


    She has gone home, to that glad land which lies,
    Not far away, yet veiled from mortal sight,
    Lest the clear shining of its cloudless skies
    Dim all the radiance of our earthly light.
    "The Lord had need of her," for some high task
    Of noblest service that his angels know.
    And yet to-day, with faltering lips we ask,
    "Can there be need in heaven like ours below?"

    Sweet, wondrous voice, whose clear entrancing note
    Could touch the listening heart with hallowed thrill,
    Will not thy music through the silence float,
    And lift our souls to heavenly rapture still?
    Not far away in the sweet hour of prayer,
    But living, loving, joining in our praise.
    Our faith can see thee, grown more heavenly fair,
    With the old smile, and dear familiar ways.


More Funeral Poems
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Mom Poems   Mom Poems

Quotes About Mom   Quotes About Mom

Sympathy Poems    Sympathy Poems

Condolence Messages   Condolence Messages

Funeral Poems For Grandma   Funeral Poems For Grandma

Poems On Life  Poems On Life



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