Mother in Heaven (Amazing Collections For the Bereaved)

Mother in Heaven – The following is a selection of poems for mothers, suitable for reading at the funeral or memorial service. The sole purpose of this collection is to create a form of closure for the bereaved.

Mother in Heaven

The following is a selection of Mother in Heaven poems, suitable for reading at the funeral or memorial service. A poem can be added to the funeral program, that is handed out to guests.

Expressing our feelings towards our mother can be very emotional and difficult. This is when Mother in Heaven poems for the bereaved can rescue us.

1. If Roses Grow in Heaven by Dolores M. Garcia

If roses grow in heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my Mother’s arms
and tell her they’re from me.

Tell her I love her and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her for awhile.

Because remembering her is easy,
I do it every day,
but there’s an ache within my heart
that will never go away.

2. A Poem for Mother by Dick Underwood

(Modified to read “mother” instead of grandma.)

Mother, you were just a girl,
So many years ago.
You had your loves and had your dreams,
You watched us come and go.

You watched us make the same mistakes,
That you had made before,
But that just made you hold us tight,
And love us all the more.

We haven’t always thought about
The things that you have seen.
To us you’ve just been ‘Mother’,
No thought of who you’ve been.

But we remember now in love,
Your life from start to end,
And we’re just glad we knew you,
As Mother, and as Friend.

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3. If There Are Any Heavens My Mother Will by E. E. Cummings

If there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have one.

It will not be a pansy heaven nor

a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but

it will be a heaven of black red roses my father will be

(deep like a rose tall like a rose)

standing near my (swaying over her silent) with eyes which are really petals and see

nothing with the face of a poet really which

is a flower and not a face with hands which whisper

This is my beloved my

(suddenly in sunlight he will bow,

and the whole garden will bow)

4. Child and Mother by Eugene Field

O mother-my-love, if you’ll give me your hand,
And go where I ask you to wander,
I will lead you away to a beautiful land,–
The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder.
We’ll walk in a sweet posie-garden out there,
Where moonlight and starlight are streaming,
And the flowers and the birds are filling the air
With the fragrance and music of dreaming.

There’ll be no little tired-out boy to undress,
No questions or cares to perplex you,
There’ll be no little bruises or bumps to caress,
Nor patching of stockings to vex you;
For I’ll rock you away on a silver-dew stream
And sing you asleep when you’re weary,
And no one shall know of our beautiful dream
But you and your own little dearie.

And when I am tired I’ll nestle my head
In the bosom that’s soothed me so often,
And the wide-awake stars shall sing, in my stead,
A song which our dreaming shall soften.
So, Mother-my-Love, let me take your dear hand,
And away through the starlight we’ll wander,–
Away through the mist to the beautiful land,–
The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder.

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5. In Memory of My Mother by Patrick Kavanagh

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday–
You meet me and you say:
‘Don’t forget to see about the cattle–‘
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.

And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life–
And I see us meeting at the end of a town

On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us — eternally.

6. Weep Not For Me

Weep not for me though I have gone
Into that gentle night
Grieve if you will, but not for long
Upon my soul’s sweet flight

I am at peace, my soul’s at rest
There is no need for tears
For with your love I was so blessed
For all those many years

There is no pain, I suffer not
The fear is now all gone
Put now these things out of your thoughts
In your memory I live on

Remember not my fight for breath
Remember not the strife
Please do not dwell upon my death
But celebrate my life

7. She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

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8. Fairy Song by John Keats

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!

9. The Snow-Drop by Sarah Mower

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.

It would be an appropriate poem to read at a funeral or memorial service and even a celebration of life ceremony. This Mother in Heaven poem for the bereaved can strengthen and remind us that she is always in our lives.

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Daily Time Poems.

Mother in Heaven (Amazing Collections For the Bereaved)