Funeral Father Daughter Poems | Examples
These Funeral Father Daughter poems are examples of Father Daughter poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Father Daughter Funeral poems written by international poets.
My dad brought home this cheese once.
I hated it. It reeked.
Everyone enjoyed it except me.
It's been five years now. He still brings this cheese home.
I’ve started to use it in my dips.
It tastes better when it’s drowning in mayo and spinach.
I walked in and I could smell it.
Tired after work, I grab a knife.
Hmm. Doesn’t taste bad.
As we walk back from the funeral, I can smell the cheese he used to bring home.
So, I head over to the supermarket and grab a chunk.
My daughter hates it. Said it reeked
I smiled.
I AM MY OWN FATHER
I NEVER KNEW OR UTTERED THE WORD FATHER MY ENTIRE LIFE
AT SCHOOL MEETINGS,HE WAS NO SHOW
I ONLY MET MY FATHER FOR THE FIRST TIME AT HIS FUNERAL
THATS IRONIC
I HAVE ALWAYS STOOD UP FOR MYSELF
I AM MY OWN FATHER
I AM MY OWN HERO
I AM ROBUST,STUBBORN,PROTECTIVE OF MYSELF AND ARGUMENTATIVE
I CANNOT BE SHAKEN BY ANYTHING
I AM PROUD TO SAY,I AM THE MAN
I AM MY OWN FATHER
sad faces
final waves goodbye
nope, not at
funeral
last child leaves home
makes her Dad...
an empty nester
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Date written: 02/25/2022
I walk amidst the lonely path and cry
I will never see my dad since he died
Think, how I never said my last goodbye
Gazing up I see birds flying, I stride
In one direction, they swoop towards his grave
Bending down on my knees, I kneel down; pray
Wishing that I could be the one to save
Moving thoughts like clouds, that I can’t convey
There is only one direction we face
Oneness in the Creator the Sublime
Facing our mistakes, we are all disgraced
Now, I fall down to the ground then I climb
Loneliness sharpens my senses clearly
Standing amidst the lonely path, I wept
Elegy for a little girl, lost
by Michael R. Burch
. . . qui laetificat juventutem meam . . .
She was the joy of my youth,
and now she is gone.
. . . requiescat in pace . . .
May she rest in peace.
. . . amen . . .
Amen.
NOTE: I was touched by this Latin prayer, which I discovered in a novel that I read as a teenager. I decided to incorporate it into a poem, which I started in high school and revised as an adult. From what I now understand, “ad deum qui laetificat juventutem meam” means “to the God who gives joy to my youth” but I am sticking with my original interpretation: a lament for a little girl at her funeral. This was my first translation. Keywords/Tags: Latin, translation, elegy, epitaph, lament, prayer, eulogy, hymn, joy, sorrow, grief, requiescat, pace, rest, peace, death, bereavement, funeral, grave, girl, father, daughter, sympathy, farewell, goodbye
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust
my tears can not come, but I know they must.
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
of my father, speak this I must.
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
sad memories to put away, I must.
For ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
wisdom shall come, in this we must trust.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Fall is here again with the
Saturday morning routine of paper and coffee.
A chance to sit and breathe,
halfway there....
Remembrances come unbidden
of mother lying on a hospital bed,
my father and I each holding a hand,
feeling the thinning pulse
as her life slipped away.
The funeral of Amazing Grace,
(her husband not there,
too broken of body and heart)
watched by empty children.
Fall is here again, remembrances unintended
of father lying down one final time
to force his broken heart to stop,
struggling, until finally
that last breath escaped his lips.
The funeral of ending rites,
his goal achieved
lying next to his wife,
watched by empty children,
Both parents gone.
Fall is here again bringing with it images,
unasked for memories of the loss.
I navigate this haunting realm,
and meet them halfway there........
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
A Prayer Answered
I used to live in a bubble, fun filled and care free
But now my life is similar to autumn leaves under an oak tree
My daughter’s funeral music echoing from the brass band
Heap by heap her grave is filled with sand
“God how am I suppose too carry on?”
Death is so final, my daughter is forever gone!
She was so brave yet so small,
If fighting could be measured, she would stand tall
“God answer me, give me a sign!”
“And please don’t tell me it would all be revealed in time”
“My child why so angry, I answered you even before you asked.
Seven years ago, you married a brown eyed girl I assigned to a task.
She will be the pillow when you weep.
Share your nightmares when you can’t sleep
She will be your pillar of strength when you fall apart.
Pick up the pieces and carry in her pocket your broken heart.”
Daddy there's a monster under my bed!
No... Silly girl...
You have been misled...
But daddy I hear it breathing!
I know it's real!
Dear, you know your cries are
my Achilles' heel...
Please come and look!
I am so scared!
OK I'll look!
I can't have you despaired...
Daddy why do you stare under my bed so long?
Honey you were right, and I was wrong!
Indeed there IS a monster under your bed!
Child when will you realize that your daddy is dead?!
A girl grew up a few houses down.
From my house, in A small town.
She was an angel, very sweet.
After homework, outside we would meet.
Her life is different, since then until now.
I pray everday, to help her somehow.
I seen her at her daddy's funeral,
on her arms, she had many bruises.
I spoke to her as we left the grave
And this is what I had to say.
Please let me help you out.
This isn't you and what your about.
She looked at me, and said sadly
I'm nothing but a junkie.
I knelt down, and gently touched her face.
Let God and myself help you change.
Evernight I pray, you would come back to me.
After all you are who I want to marry.
Let God take the wheel, so your body can heal.
Drive you off the bumpy road, you have chose.
To me your still an angel, I've always known.
You got lost. You were alone.
Like my mama said, when I was a kid.
Your the same person, who has been living in sin.
Ask god for forgiveness and to cleanse your soul.
And help you dust off your dusty halo.
Oh yes
I recall the shed to this day
the scent of old wood
and dust floating in the air
cobwebs in corners
sun flooding in through a window
a scarred wooden work table
and tin cans lined up with nails and screws
a coffee cup forgotten . . .
I would bring precious dandelions and buttercups
to be placed in some old can or jar
and would sit watching for hours pondering
the sketches and grand ideas . . .
later we would sit on the porch swing
talking the afternoon away
and I held his hand so tight
never wanting to let go . . .
sadly life had a plan written
and who am I to question destiny
so, I had to let go
after the funeral I stood in the shed
thinking, who will want the rusty tools
of an old man
then I closed that creaky door
forever . . .
_______________________________
May 3, 2017
(Edit from April 14, 2013)
Brian Strand
25 lines
First Place
I laid my heart upon your grave
That winter day when trees were bare;
Their withered leaves fell down to brave
The chill of winter death and share
With you the frozen ground and air.
Cold tears of rain helped to impart
The gloom, as prayer some comfort gave…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
I plucked a crimson rose that lay
Upon your grave as rain fell down
And joined my tears that solemn day.
I held it to my heart to drown
My hurt, then slowly turned around
To numbly make my way to part
And join with loved ones home to pray…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
Then April came on quiet feet
To wake the trees with budding bloom.
Thawed ground gave birth, in Springtime heat,
To grass, that hid the ashen gloom.
Now stung to life by Springtime’s womb,
The golden youth of Earth gives start
To find new hope, new season greet…
But oh, the moaning of my heart.
I stand in shadow of death's sting;
Oh Dad, why did you have to part?
Help me to heal with reborn Spring…
But, oh, the moaning of my heart.
sun shines bleak, cold winds whip
death's sting floods her tender eyes
daddy is laid to rest