It’s strange we don’t appreciate
The things we see each day
We never know their value
Till they’re cruelly snatched away
Things I took for granted then
Her voice, her smile, her touch
I always knew I loved her
But I never knew how much
Although I cannot see you, I feel your presence near. I will hold you close in memory Till I drop my very last tear. So
This poem of grief for a woman’s death was written by Oliver Wright in remembrance of his own mother, but the beautiful words make it
A funeral poem by Romantic poet John Keats about the peaceful sleep at the end of life, suitable as a funeral reading or eulogy.
I never saw your twinkling eyes Or touched your precious feet. I never shared a tiny yawn Or rocked you fast asleep. I never kissed
