Funeral Poems for Mothers

The following is a selection of poems for mothers, suitable for reading at the funeral or memorial service.

For most of us, expressing our feelings towards our mother is very emotional and difficult.  This is when poetry comes to rescue us. 

Or you may choose a funeral poem for your mother that describes her character.

Our most popular funeral poems for mothers are:

In addition, we have added more pages of very popular funeral poems for mom.

We also have a selection of readings suitable for the funeral of a mother and a number of funeral quotes - some of them humorous .  

Or we can create a poem written just for you

The Broken Chain

We little knew that morning that God was going to call your name,

In life we loved you dearly; in death we do the same

It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone.

For part of us went with you, the day God called you home

You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide,

And though we cannot see you, you are always at our side

Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same,

But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again

- anon -

You can only have one mother

Patient kind and true;

No other friend in all the world,

Will be the same to you.

When other friends forsake you,

To mother you will return,

For all her loving kindness,

She asks nothing in return.

As we look upon her picture,

Sweet memories we recall,

Of a face so full of sunshine,

And a smile for one and all.

Sweet Jesus, take this message,

To our dear mother up above;

Tell her how we miss her,

And give her all our love. 

- Irish Funeral Prayer -

Ralph Waldo Emerson - Success

What Is Success 

So let them pass these songs of mine

So let them pass, these songs of mine,

Into oblivion, nor repine;

Abandoned ruins of large schemes,

Dimmed lights adrift from nobler dreams,

Weak wings I sped on quests divine,

So let them pass, these songs of mine.

They soar, or sink ephemeral-

I care not greatly which befall!

For if no song I e'er had wrought,

Still have I loved and laughed and fought;

So let them pass, these songs of mine;

I sting too hot with life to whine!

Still shall I struggle, fail, aspire,

Lose God, and find Gods in the mire,

And drink dream-deep life's heady wine-

So let them pass, these songs of mine.

- Don Marquis - 

When Death Comes

When death comes

like the hungry bear in autumn;

when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;

when death comes

like the measles-pox;

when death comes

like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:

what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything

as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,

and I look upon time as no more than an idea,

and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common

as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth

tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something

precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.

I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don't want to wonder

if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,

or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world. 

- Mary Oliver -

The Cost

Death is not too high a price to pay for having lived. Mountains never die, nor do the seas or rocks or endless sky. Through countless centuries of time, they stay eternal, deathless. Yet they never lived! If choice there were, I would not hesitate to choose mortality. Whatever Fate demanded in return for life I'd give, for, never to have seen the fertile plains, nor heard the winds nor felt the warm sun on sands beside the salty sea, nor touched the hands of those I love - without these, all the gains of timelessness would not be worth one day of living and of loving; come what may.

- by Dorothy Monroe -

Fairy Song

Shed no tear! O shed no tear!

The flower will bloom another year.

Weep no more! O, weep no more!

Young buds sleep in the root's white core.

Dry your eyes! Oh! dry your eyes!

or I was taught in Paradise

To ease my breast of melodies

Shed no tear.

Overhead! look overhead!

'Mong the blossoms white and red

Look up, look up. I flutter now

On this flush pomegranate bough.

See me! 'tis this silvery bell

Ever cures the good man's ill.

Shed no tear! O, shed no tear!

The flowers will bloom another year.

Adieu, adieu—I fly, adieu,

I vanish in the heaven's blue

Adieu, adieu!

- John Keats-

Heaven is not reached at a single bound,

But we build the ladder by which we rise

From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,

And we mount to its summit round by round.

- J.G. Holland -

When the sun comes after rain

When the sun comes after rain

And the bird is in the blue,

The girls go down the lane

Two by two.

When the sun comes after shadow

And the singing of the showers,

The girls go up the meadow,

Fair as flowers.

When the eve comes dusky red

And the moon succeeds the sun,

The girls go home to bed

One by one.

And when life draws to its even

And the day of man is past,

They shall all go home to heaven,

Home at last.

- Robert Louis Stevenson -

With flowing tears, dear cherished one,

We lay thee with the dead;

And flowers, which thou didst love so well,

Shall wave above thy head.

Sweet emblems of thy dearer self,

They find a wintry tomb;

And at the south wind's gentle touch,

Spring forth to life and bloom.

Thus, when the sun of righteousness

Shall gild thy dark abode,

Thy slumb'ring dust shall bloom afresh,

And soar to meet thy God.

- by Sarah Mower -

I Know Not Why

I lift mine eyes against the sky,

The clouds are weeping, so am I;

I lift mine eyes again on high,

The sun is smiling, so am I.

Why do I smile? Why do I weep?

I do not know; it lies too deep.

I hear the winds of autumn sigh,

They break my heart, they make me cry;

I hear the birds of lovely spring,

My hopes revive, I help them sing.

Why do I sing? Why do I cry?

It lies so deep, I know not why.

By Morris Rosenfeld 


Death comes once, let it be easy.

Ring one bell for me once, let it go at that.

Or ring no bell at all, better yet.

Sing one song if I die.

Sing John Brown’s Body or Shout All Over God’s Heaven.

Or sing nothing at all, better yet.

Death comes once, let it be easy.

- By Carl Sandburg -

The Mother

There will be a singing in your heart,

There will be a rapture in your eyes;

You will be a woman set apart,

You will be so wonderful and wise.

You will sleep, and when from dreams you start,

As of one that wakes in Paradise,

There will be a singing in your heart,

There will be a rapture in your eyes.

There will be a moaning in your heart,

There will be an anguish in your eyes;

You will see your dearest ones depart,

You will hear their quivering good-byes.

Yours will be the heart-ache and the smart,

Tears that scald and lonely sacrifice;

There will be a moaning in your heart,

There will be an anguish in your eyes.

There will come a glory in your eyes,

There will come a peace within your heart;

Sitting 'neath the quiet evening skies,

Time will dry the tear and dull the smart.

You will know that you have played your part;

Yours shall be the love that never dies:

You, with Heaven's peace within your heart,

You, with God's own glory in your eyes.

- by Robert Service -

Two poems sent in by viewers:

If I should go before the rest of you

Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone

Nor when I'm gone speak in a Sunday voice

But be the usual selves that I have known

Weep if you must

Parting is hell

But life goes on,

So sing as well.

- by Joyce Grenfell -

The life that I have is all that I have

the life that I have is yours

The love that I have for the life that I have

is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have, a rest I shall have

Yet death will be but a pause

for the peace of my years

in the long green grass

Will be yours and yours and yours

- by Leo Marks -

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