Funeral

Gold cherry

By jennifer

Sat, 27 Dec 2025
  • 320 reads
12 comments
 

Funeral

 

Jennifer Pickup, 27.12.2025

 

When I wandered into the church,

Someone held open the glass door,

Made a little conversation,

I’d never stepped inside before.

 

I was seeking consolation,

A little comfort from above,

Didn’t see the congregation,

Far too consumed with losing love.

 

I meandered down the walkways,

Revelling in the stained glass light,

Reading all of the inscriptions,

Inside the alcove to the right.

 

I don’t know what called me in here,

As I passed on my lunchtime walk,

Perhaps some kind guiding angel,

Who knew I needed more than talk.

 

I heard settling behind me,

As the service approached its start,

I wished the pillars would hide me,

As I so surely fell apart.

 

I do not mean to disturb you,

Or intervene with private grief,

I have come here for my own pain

For I just need some sweet relief.

 

I can hear the many whispers,

I feel the heat of strangers’ stares, 

Try to keep my crying silent,

And light a candle for my prayers.

 

I stand here with my heart open,

For a minute or maybe two,

Then I quietly make my exit,

And leave the flame to burn for you.

Certificate PG
Poem
Hurricane Warning (2025)
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by TJW on

I pray privately.  At home.  Worship alone.  Worship in solitude sutis me.  For many reasons, many of them superficial which I pray for God to forgive.  Solitude is powerful.  Worshippful solitude is powerful.  I think of churches as beacons and believe that the beaconed light spreads.  Worship where you will in comfort.  God does not seek an audience.  

 

Submitted by jennifer on

...but, on this particular day, I needed an audience with God.

J x

 

Submitted by TJW on

That makes sense

V/R

 

Submitted by sean mcnulty on

A powerful poem about the quiet dignity of a funeral service. This is our Sunday pick. Please share across the relevant social media.

 

Submitted by jennifer on

Very honoured to have had my poem chosen as Pick of the Day.

The story of when I accidentally crashed a funeral, too absorbed with my own overwhelming grief, on a recent lunch break at work.

J x

 

Submitted by insertponceyfre... on

You set the scene beautifully in this Jennifer, well done

 

Submitted by jennifer on

One of those experiences where the poem was just me reflecting on what happened, as the expeience moved me so much, and the words found their way into rhymes that wished to be recorded. No fabrication or embellishment! - everything unfolded exactly as I say.

J x

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Excellent poem, Jenifer. Well done on the pick.

Luigi x

 

Submitted by jennifer on

Sometimes the best ones almost seem to write themselves. Then I start to believe in theories like divine inspiration and the collective unconscious...

J x

 

Submitted by Tom Brown on

I don't like funerals, the first corpse I saw was my dad and it was the last. It really didn't look much like him but I knew it was, it was the clay, he was dead.

All the best to you and all – Tom

 

Submitted by jennifer on

I do not think they are meant to be liked or enjoyed. But I think we need funerals. More for the living than the dead. I think they bring a sense of closure, and a reassurance.

Unfortunately, I have also seen my father's corpse. Not the first, not the most recent, and not the last.

My heart goes out to you.

J x

 

Submitted by Tom Brown on

tragic

Thanks Jennifer yes I agree, it was a long time ago but his death was tragic and it left scars, but time really does heal. Sometimes I've had other "father figures", always kind men and good examples, nothing wrong with that, also my students I tried to be someone they can trust and confide in. I considered them as my own.

Thanks! Tom