Stillborn Baby Poems
Welcome to the Stillborn Baby Funeral Poems, Verses
. Please accept our sincere condolences on your bereavement.
These free religious, inspirational funeral poems can be read at the funeral as part of a speech, tribute, eulogy or reading or can be included in the Order of Service or Program or used in a greeting Card
There are many poems in the other sections which might be equally suitable to you. We suggest you browse all the family sections
An angel wrote in the Book of Life
My (Your) baby's date of birth
Then whispered as she closed the book
"Too beautiful for Earth"
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The world may never notice
If a Snowdrop doesn't bloom,
Or even pause to wonder
If the petals fall too soon.
But every life that ever forms,
Or ever comes to be,
Touches the world in some small way
For all eternity.
The little one we long for
Was swiftly here and gone.
But the love that was then planted
Is a light that still shines on.
And though our arms are empty,
Our hearts know what to do.
Every beating of our hearts
Says that we do love you.
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Sometimes, when the sun goes down,
It seems it will never rise again…
but it will!
Sometimes, when you feel alone,
It seems your heart will break in two…
but it won’t.
And sometimes, it seems
It’s hardly worthwhile carrying on…
But it is.
For sometimes, when the sun goes down,
It seems it will never rise again,
But it does
Frank Brown
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Remember
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.
Christina Rossetti
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The Noble Nature
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 far 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.
Ben Jonson
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For A Child Born Dead
What ceremony can we fit
You into now? If you had come
Out of this warm and noisy room
To this, there'd be an opposite
For us to know you by. We could
Imagine you in lively mood.
And then look at the other side,
The mood drawn out of you, the breath
Defeated by the power of death.
But we have never seen you stride
Ambitiously the world we know.
You could not come and yet you go.
But there is nothing now to mar.
Your clear refusal of our world.
Not in our memories can we mould
You or distort your character.
Then all our consolation is
That grief can be as pure as this.
-Elizabeth Jennings
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ELEGY FOR A STILL-BORN CHILD
Your mother walks light as an empty creel
Unlearning the intimate nudge and pull
Your trussed-up weight of seed-flesh and
bone-curd
Had insisted on. That evicted world
Contracts round its history, its scar.
Doomsday struck when your collapsed
sphere
Extinguished itself in our atmosphere,
Your mother heavy with the lightness in her.
For six months you stayed cartographer
Charting my friend from husband towards
father.
He guessed a globe behind your steady
mound.
Then the pole fell, shooting star, into the
ground.
On lonely journeys I think of it all,
Birth of death, exhumation for burial;
A wreath of small clothes, a memorial
pram
And parents reaching for a phantom limb.
I drive by remote control on this bare road
Under a drizzling sky, a circling rock.
Past mountain fields full to the brim with
cloud.
White waves riding home on a wintry lough.
-- Seamus Heaney,