To ask for your favourite funeral readings?

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she would want:
Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

When I am gone, release me, let me go.
I have so many things to see and do,
You mustn't tie yourself to me with too many tears,
But be thankful we had so many good years.
I gave you my love, and you can only guess How much you've given me in happiness.
I thank you for the love that you have shown, But now it is time I traveled on alone.
So grieve for me a while, if grieve you must, Then let your grief be comforted by trust.
That it is only for a while that we must part,
So treasure the memories within your heart.
I won't be far away for life goes on.
And if you need me, call and I will come.
Though you can't see or touch me, I will be near
And if you listen with your heart, you'll hear All my love around you soft and clear
And then, when you come this way alone, I'll greet you with a smile and a "Welcome Home"

I Am Always With You

Used at family funeral

SHe is Gone, by David Hawkins

You can shed tears that she has gone
Or you can smile because she has lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday
You can can remember her and one that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
You can cry and close your minf, be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she would want:
Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Depending on the circumstances of the loss, there are some more uplifting suggestions on the Humanist's website (I have a few friends who are celebrants):

https://humanists.uk/ceremonies/funerals/blog/uplifting-and-humorous-poems-for-a-humanist-funeral/

I really like The Dash by Linda Ellis.

For you, @Grievingaunt , by. Ben Jonson, with condolences

It is not growing like a tree
in bulk, doth make Man better be;
or standing long an oak three hundred year,
to fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere;

A lily of a day
is fairer in May,
although it fall and die that night-
It was the plant and flower of Light.
In small proportions we just beauties see:
and in short measures life may perfect be.

Remember me by Christina Rosetti

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

My 3 yr old DN passed away at the weekend. I'm crying at the beautiful readings.

My mother found this one very comforting when my dad died and chose it for his funeral, and we likewise chose it for hers because it meant so much. It's very much for people struggling with loss who need to still feel a connection and it helped her. Ultimately, it's finding the right reading or poem for the bereaved and the character of the deceased. None are dreadful, it's just horses for courses.

I love this poem, though possibly not for a funeral

Death, be not proud - John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy'or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

I wish I’d seen this 5 yrs ago - a neighbour of my parents told me that she’d be sure to keep dad’s ripples going by telling story’s about him and his achievements to all her friends and that comment comforted me then and makes more sense still now

Eek, sorry about the state of that paste - its Stop all the clocks by WH Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone'Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good. W H Auden

Remember me by Christina Rosetti

I was going to go with the Tennyson too but @Abitofalark beat me to it. I have liked it since I studied it at O Level.

Exactly. How rude and classless to call a funeral reading that clearly means a lot to some people “dreadful”. There are certain ones that are not to my personal taste but I appreciate how meaningful and comforting they are to others.

I think the overriding message of it is supposed to be that we can honour the dead and keep their memory alive by speaking openly, and with humour, joking about things they did and remembering with laughter the times we had together, as though they are just away on a trip, rather than in only mourning their loss. A good friend had it read at her funeral, and I know exactly what she wanted us to infer from it.

http://www.funeralchoices.co.uk/Poems/god%20sends%20his%20love.html

God sends his love (I heard this even at a non religious funeral - very comforting).

By Terry Pratchett. My friend sent it to me when my Dad died. I found the last line particularly profound

No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away, until the clock wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone’s life is only the core of their actual existence.

I love this and as I live by the Campsies it's even better.

Some interesting suggestions, but that ‘Death is nothing at all’ one is dreadful.
DH said about it ‘Do not for a moment labour under the impression that I will be in the next room. I’ll be dead.‘

Crossing the Bar
By Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.

It's a bit unconventional, but I do like this:

When I die, please fling my ashes somewhere warm
I pass the graveyard every day and the headstones look so cold

Don’t bother with a patch of ground for flowers plucked to wilt upon
As people pass and count my years, leave earth’s well-formed rocks alone

Don’t shove me in another urn, a golden box atop a shelf,
so bored I’d be up there alone. Save your cash, enjoy yourself

Go mourn me – if you want to mourn –
Somewhere we have loved to be
Get two pornstar martinis, down both prosecco shots for me
Cup the floating passion fruit, lick the juices greedily

Go snuggle in the cinema, read a whole book on the couch
Get your arse up on a dancefloor, move your bones about

Buy niger seeds and birdfeeders and watch the goldfinch flock
Climb up the Campsie fells, flash the whole world far below
Your tits, your arse, your cock
I promise I’ll be there with you. Can’t promise I won’t watch

Hollie McNish

Not for a funeral reading but a poem for those that are suffering grief -

For Grief | John O’Donohue

When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you gets fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence.

Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.

Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.

There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.

Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.

It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And, when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.

This poem is from John O’Donohue’s book of blessings called “To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings.”