General Chat

n

nudging this for Frances, Forever Mystified, with sympathy on the sad loss of her Mum

Lizx

nudging for all who would like to read these verses, with my sympathy

Lizx

nudging for Fran

nudging this up in the hope that people might find comfort from these lovely verses, especially those bereaved recently.

My sympathy to you all

Lizx

I hope it helped a little, Mamiddau

Lizx

Thank you Liz, Beautiful thread! xxxx

nudging for Mamidau with my sympathy

Lizx

Nudging for Jackie in Oz and to all who grieve in the hopes they might find a little comfort in these lovely verses.

Lizxx

nudging for Darkie and all those who have lost loved ones, including my cousin's sons and daughter, whose father's funeral is today.

Lizx

nudging this for those who mourn loved ones, with my sympathy.


Lizxx

Just nudging so folk can read some of these verses, they are lovely - thanks to all who keep adding moving words to the thread

Lizx

"Nudging"this lovley thread.

Gwen xx

Thank you Fiona, that's lovely.

Lizxx

I too have a poem I'd like to share with you all , I found it on a Genealogy poem webb site, My mum died New Years eve 1999, and I still miss her very much, Some of you may all ready know it.
Here goes


"FOREVER"
There's a hole inside of me
it apeared some time ago
The day my mother passed away...
Tell me, Why did she have to go?

I've tried to fill the hole up
with other family
And want to keep her memory alive
so I started her family tree

My search has brought me many a kin
who've helped to fill that hole
But I realise now, there'll always be
An emptiness in my soul

I guess that's just the way it is
With people and their mothers...
A special bond exists with them
That can't be matched by others

How many times had I heard her say?
" Someday I won't be here....?
I thought I'd always have her, though,
Now all I have is tears

I know she's with HER mother now
That's not what makes me sad:
It's that I never asked her about our past,
Now ,too late, I want to know so bad

So please god, when you see my mum
Give her all my love
And tell my kin I'll see them again
When I join them up above.

Bless everyones Mums
Fiona

n

nudging for Alison in Oz

Lizx

Thank you Athena, they are lovely verses and the second one does counter the first.

Yes, I do sleep, lol

Lizxxx

Liz, what a sweetie you are to nudge up these beautiful poems. Don't you ever go to bed, by the way?

I hope I may be allowed to add two from my own collection (not my work, I hasten to add), the one of which I believe answers the other.

'Time does not bring relief' - Edna St. Vincent.

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!

There are a hundred places where I fear
To go - so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, "There is no memory of him here!"
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.


Pain - from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain
And he said:

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding,

Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart
may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles
of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you
have always accepted the seasons that pass over your field.

And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility;

For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,

And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

n