The poems regarding BEREAVEMENT begin with poem number 18.

"May any hurt that you experience be no more than you can bear — and with it, may an
equal portion of love, thought and care be present."
The poet, author

1.  You're Not Alone

I wish I could remove your suffering, or is it heartbreak you’re going through?
But all I can do is show that I care via word or act, thus thinking of you.
'Cause who’d ignore a fellow traveller struggling with pain or grief? No, not I,
This world having given me many a reason to sigh, cry and question “Why?”

Yes, there’re many of us who’ve suffered too, though I’ve no desire to talk of me,
But rather, to let you know that you’re not alone, though feeling so, possibly.
And if so, understandably so, for this world can be very harsh and cold,
Or so it seems until the cheer of a caring rosebud is seen to unfold.

Perhaps it’s just a hug you need, or arm around the shoulder, such no mere token,
'Cause sometimes greater thoughtfulness is shown via an act where words aren’t spoken.
In fact, words oft getting in the way, some folk kind of clumsy with what they say,
But meaning well, though who among us never errs, isn’t seen to wrongly weigh?

Yes, be it physical or emotional, some things are very hard to bear,
And why it’s reassuring to know that folk who truly love and care are near.
'Cause though they can’t wave a magic wand, they can seek or pray on our behalf, and
In the meantime, via word or act, show that they really feel for us, understand.

By Lance Landall

2.  Dear Hurting Soul

Dear hurting soul, and no doubt tired of platitudes, I truly feel for you,
Because I’m a fellow traveller who has suffered from such crippling pain too.
Yes, emotional pain having us just as doubled up, but differently,
Such wounds not visible ones, except for any tears that somebody might see.

And behind those tears, a bloodied heart or tortured mind, even both, possibly,
And bandages of little use here, and nor for such, some liquid remedy.
No, only time, a listening ear, a consoling arm — yes, a friend indeed,
A fellow traveller who camps awhile, or walks with you, given your need.

By Lance Landall

3.  When Silence Conveys As Much

When pain’s too deep for words of comfort, ones presence is all that should be felt, so
Leave those heartfelt words for where they have their place, and let love’s quieter side show.
Yes, gently, gently, feather-like tender, only caring arms saying it all,
Until those lowered eyes rise to seek, and those necessary tears cease to fall.

To rush would be a shame, ’cause the deeper the pain, the fuller that well inside,
Which must empty its buckets of sorrow, helped by those loving arms open wide.
Yes, no need of words, love just quietly doing its thing, simply being there,
Because not only via our words, but via our quiet presence, we show we care.

By Lance Landall

4.  Dear Afflicted One

I believe with all my heart, that those who take the lives of others, or make them suffer terribly,
Will get their comeuppance, and that their punishment will be appropriate, and they then cease to be.
And though I base this on the Bible, something inside of me hollers that such couldn't fail to be,
So please take heart, dear afflicted one, 'cause those who carry out such evil, will surely pay, shortly.

'Cause as much as there is an evil force (bathed in darkness), there’s also a loving force  (bathed in light),
And this not just an opinion, but something that’s clear for all to see, 'cause all know there's wrong and right.
Yes, I don't believe that good won't triumph in the future, but that it’s letting evil have its day,
So that the entire universe will soon see its ultimate plan, and never again go astray.

'Cause after all, the kind of loving force I see, would hardly make robots out of humanity,
Unlike the evil force to whom absolute control is paramount (which it's seeking actively),
'Cause how else could it enforce its will, knowing that there are those who’d never accept its dictates,
'Cause such a force, despite candy coated disguises, just chains, troubles, deceives, scares, harms, lies and hates.

So, no matter what this force may do (or what the future brings), don’t give in to it, nor buy its plans,
'Cause should you do so, you’ll sell your soul to the devil (vile men, and greatly suffer at their hands),
And might even suffer their fate too, 'cause rest assured, dear afflicted one, there’ll come a day
When the loving force that is bathed in light-cum-truth will finally, and rightly so, have the last say.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 3 February 2020.

5.  Teardrops

Only little teardrops, maybe, but not so little that pain that many have inside,
Pain that seems loath to go, it a very tiring foe, pain that's too difficult to hide.
Teardrops that trickle, and possibly tickle, tears that well up and invariably slide,
Tears that despite any efforts made, still have their way, their say, and resolve override.

Tears on the faces of children, friends and strangers, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives,
Tears that too often are seen, even foreseen — yes, featuring in far too many lives.
Tears that can last for ages, chapters or pages, tears that sometimes simply come and go,
Weeping that disturbs, sobbing that perturbs, tears that impatiently burst and overflow.

Yes, only little teardrops, they salty to the taste, they smudged, dabbed at, or brushed away,
Tears that are destined to fall, tears that momentarily stall, tears that much hurt convey.
Teardrops that flow, rapidly or slow, tears that gush, rush, and pride reluctantly forgo,
A single tear, a stream, such a very common theme, one that too many people know.

Tears that cross the genders, each race or caste, tears on the faces of rich and poor alike,
Tears that respect no position, nor any condition, tears that can suddenly strike.
Tears that lie in waiting, they seemingly anticipating, tears that appear on cue,
Tears that are caused by others, or over others, and those things that one cannot undo.

Yes, only little teardrops, maybe, but not so little that sadness that’s deep within,
Pain bubbling from an inner well, tears that one really can’t quell, they moist upon one’s skin.
Tears that coyly peek, then softly and quietly sneak, or hurriedly roll down one’s cheek,
They pain's outward expression, sorrowful confession — yes, teardrops, with their telling streak.

By Lance Landall

Also see my poem The Weeping Heart which can be found on my page
The Heart Of The Matter, Home page, purple box.

6.  Today

Someone needs an arm around their shoulder today, a kindly word in their ear,
An encouraging uplift, something tangible that conveys your love and care.
Yes, they’re struggling, feeling the weight of some load they’re carrying, or nursing pain,
And surely we’re all well aware of how the rigors of life on Earth can drain.

Oh, those tender expressions of concern, how they mean so much, but where are they?
Far too often left ’till tomorrow when some poor soul’s needing that touch today.
Even a caring smile helps, they looking for anything — so please, don’t delay,
Because who knows what they might be contemplating, many brittle jars of clay.

By Lance Landall

7.  Burdened Souls

Who knows the burden that another is carrying, perhaps anguish and pain,
And why their behaviour might surprise, and our reaction deliver more rain.
Yes, such poor souls suffering enough, and why all should be treated with great care,
Someone’s burden perhaps something very personal that they don’t wish to share.

And who could they truly trust, 'cause how many of us have let other folk down?
Their initial smile at our “You can trust me” turning to a “No I can’t” frown.
Oh, how once-upon-a-time friends can blab, or any that folk open up to,
And hence why so many keep things to themselves — and to be honest, wouldn’t you?

So best we mind, for burdened souls are everywhere, though some not appearing so,
They good at hiding such, toughing it out, but when alone, tears are seen to flow.
And sad it is, for no one should suffer alone, nor feel that such they can’t share,
And what might this say of us? Or might we be that struggling burdened soul? Oh dear.

By Lance Landall

8.  That Failure To Understand

As I’ve gone through life, observing this and experiencing that, the most problematic of things I’ve seen,
Is that failure to understand others, and that when it comes to relationships, so oft gets in-between.
The truth is, our understanding only goes as far as the effort we make, or should I say, want to make,
For how oft do any of us really go to any great lengths-cum-serious action for another’s sake?

And therein lies the problem, we not sufficiently interested, or just not interested at all,
And why we fail to understand, or only partially grasp things, such oft leading to some bad judgment call.
And then there’s our personal bias, for how can we truly see when our thinking’s coloured by this or that?
Such possibly glaringly obvious come some confrontational encounter; even general chat.

To be fair, there are some things that we may never fully understand, or grasp at all — sometimes sadly so —
But what a shame should such be due to a lack of effort, or that callous, “I really just don’t want to know.”
It’s bad enough that lack of experience or personal growth can get in the way, without apathy,
Or we simply too caught up in our own little world, too content, too busy, or too distracted to see.

And as a consequence, many having to live with being viewed in some unfortunate way that isn’t so,
Or they not getting the support and attention they need, from which sad things can flow, or destructively grow.
And we then pointing the finger and condemning, thanks to failing to understand, or not wanting to see,
All of which often has its roots in selfishness, or that only prepared to go so far mentality.

Yes, what we fail to understand can work against us, let alone its impact on others, and hence why we,
Should not only try to understand (proof that we do care), but to the fullest of our capability.
And you know, it’s oft via our understanding of others that we grow, we thus seeing things differently,
As our own little world is simply just that, and why it needs enlarging at every opportunity.

By Lance Landall

9.  Unfairly Deprived

Everyone needs a mother and father, and yet, so many are deprived of either one, or both, when they shouldn’t be,
Or they are deprived of a brother or a sister, all of which can leave them deeply affected emotionally.
Whether they’re adopted out, fostered out, or abandoned by some renegade mother or father, such is hardly fair,
And so often a terrible burden that throughout the rest of their tortured lives those poor unfortunates have to bear.

To add insult to injury, many are mistreated by their care-givers, and even newly assigned family,
Whether such abuse be via some orphanage-cum-institution, or via some surrogate mother and father, and,
Amidst it all, many longing to one day find those ones they’re badly missing, so many questions burning in their mind,
But particularly one — “Why?” — a question that they will not receive an answer to if those missing ones they can’t find.

And sometimes when they do, there is a happy and successful reunion, but mostly such isn’t how it goes, sadly,
For those missing ones have either passed away or can’t be found, or if they are found, they add to past rejection hugely.
Yes, some who are found, don’t want to be found, and to be honest, aren’t worth finding perhaps, given their coldness and cruelty,
All of which could fill the pages of so many books, and that does, though in the scheme of things, only a minority.

And hence why the world is full of rudderless souls torn from a much needed anchor, a mum and a dad, a family,
Many seemingly drifting through life like some lost child, or thrashing about in waters of emptiness others can’t see.
And hence those inner tears, tears that shouldn’t be, 'cause all were meant to have a mum and a dad, alias a family,
And not just for a while, but for as long as life permits, given that life’s curtain descends on all, eventually.

By Lance Landall

10.  Seek To Forgive

Yes, people can hurt us, let us down, or simply cause a lot of bother, hence so much upset,
But given failings are common to us all, it’s best we bear long and forgive, even forget.
Many are struggling with serious issues, their background and old ways — change not coming easy —
And they unhappy they’re causing problems, upsetting others, and from such, wanting to be free.

Things that need undoing take time, folk having become programmed, as it were, their habits engrained,
And thus many automatically responding as they’ve always done, or how they’ve been trained,
Or influenced, should I say, and why they often need time, support and forgiving, lest it be
They give up, continue as they are, or get worse, and who’ll be all the worse off? Not just them but we.

It’s also true that many don’t see ’till they’re older, their hearts full of regret — and time left, short —
All why despite their sad trail, we should still forgive, they oft having suffered as well, of a sort;
Such either due to their own unfortunate issues, or their wrongdoings — both undoubtedly —
Many victims themselves, prisoners of their afflictions, and they in need of a saving key.

And sometimes that key comes in the form of forgiveness, an acceptance they haven’t known before,
They having been shunned because of their ways — yes, mistreated too, that mistreatment oft at the core,
And why forgiveness never goes amiss, it blessing the forgiver, for they’ve acted nobly,
And no doubt realising that they may desire forgiveness too one day, and may it be ready.

By Lance Landall

11.  Always Choose The Right Way

Turning on family, or others who’ve hurt us, and lashing out angrily,
Is the worst way to resolve things, and may see them responding just as badly.
Few liking or accepting truths coming in such a form, and so worse things get,
And who’s prepared to accept blame? There being few such people that I have met.

Shouting fowl or unfair seldom sees people respond or change, I have to say,
They either receptive or not, and force or pressure more likely to delay.
All why its better to simply move on sometimes, though where we do point out things,
It’s better to do so privately than publicly, from which less trouble springs.

Yes, it’s hard enough getting people to admit their ill, but when things are said
Where others can hear, the embarrassment has people turning an angry red.
And thus hopes of admission or reconciliation destined to be dashed,
And thus nothing gained (except for revenge) when on the News, say, things are splashed.

Yes, Harry and Megan a case in point, on one hand talking about harm done,
And on the other, dishing it out, effectively producing their own gun.
And loaded it was, bullets flying in the other direction, they just as bad,
And the whole world told — oh, how we do things sometimes that we wish we hadn’t had.

By Lance Landall

This poem was penned May 2021.
You may also wish to read my poems Hi Harry and Further To, Harry which can be found

on my page Love, Thought And Care, Home page.

12. Catch On?

Even when life has dealt us blows, left us with hurt and pain, it’s better to remain loving,
And midst the fog of broken dreams, heartache and loss, to seek out others with whom we can sing.
By that I mean, to lose ourselves in selfless acts and gentle ways, and words that warm and heal,
For responding any differently, even more joy, peace, hope and happiness will steal.

Yes, such is how we make our heart smile again, how we still move forward, and find our way through,
Searching for any little thing that will brighten, found in those things that for others we do.
For as we lift another’s spirit, ease their lot, and via those loving acts of kindness share,
Our own load is lightened, our season soothed, and possibilities are oft seen to appear.

We shouldn’t dwell on what we’re missing, on what might’ve been, or even on what should’ve been,
But rather, make the most of the present and what we have, for things will always intervene.
Hence why life’s really in the living, the being, our sight, our hearing, even our sense of smell,
And not so much in grandiose plans, nor romantic dreams, for many betray, kiss and tell.

Better to thrive on little, for little disappoints less, given expectations are low,
And given that acceptance and contentment are the two greatest friends that any can know.
For we all arrived with nothing, and will leave with nothing, given living is in the being,
And why we’ll never experience true peace until this little gem of truth we’re seeing.

By Lance Landall

13.  Break The Circle!

Sadly so, and far too often, the lives of this Earth’s inhabitants are made up of circles of injury,
Circles that badly need to be broken in order to destroy the cycles of abuse and misery.
Yes, “The sins of the fathers,” one might say — in other words, bad examples, or inherited negative traits,
Or simply some very injurious groove, some most unfortunate habit, that sadly, further ill generates.

And all being destructive paths that encircle lives, destructive paths that can wear depressing and distressing grooves,
Grooves that hurt both the circle maker and those who are encompassed by such, and that the foolishness of such proves.
And that being, the folly of treading those same old injurious paths, and thus adding to the weight that others bear,
Who, when it comes to life’s misfortunes, heartache, suffering and pain, no doubt already have far more than their share.

Therefore, it’s time that these circles were broken, and not just for our own sake, but for the sake of others also,
 Who, far too often have to bear the brunt of such, and who as a consequence, their own injurious seeds can sow.
'Cause many, rather than choosing otherwise, fall into step with the circle maker, thus widening the trail,
And thereby, don’t just add to their own troubles, but the happiness and security of others oft assail.

What the world needs now (other than love), and seemingly more than ever, is circle breakers, groove destroyers, who,
Rather than falling into step with circle makers, groove gougers, a much wiser and brighter path will pursue.
And thereby decrease rather than enlarge the huge stockpile of misery that is afflicting humanity,
Thus adding to what sense, love, care, peace and happiness exists, rather than adding to all the insanity.

By Lance Landall

14.  To The Angry Young

Dear troubled one (and this from a fellow sufferer), I so desire to relieve that pain within you,
'Cause within my life (a book now in its final chapters), I have felt that coldness and cruelty too.
And just like you, I’ve walked that same lonely road, thought about ending it all — and I, just as angry,
Others unable to understand the turmoil within (and nor I), not that they tried, quite frankly.

So yes, I can imagine how you’re feeling, how you may want to lash out — “I’ll show 'em!
I’ll teach 'em!” —
Yes, been there done that, their indifference much like sandpaper, and at times, inner rage to the brim.
Oh, how I could’ve kicked back, they so sure they had the answers-cum-me sassed out, such fuelling the fire,
I confused, lacking confidence, insecure, even scared — and against me, life seeking to conspire.

I’ve no doubts such harks back to my childhood, but hey, I’m no psychologist, and what do they really know,
Though I guess they've their place, and a caring counsellor too, but the trouble's getting a good one though.
I know that they’re out there, read enough books to know, but they aren't about — well, at least when one needs them,
Though there're plenty of armchair critics about with lots to say, and who point their fingers and condemn.

Now mind, 'cause if there’s help of sorts available, go for it, but there’s no magic wand, kind of thing,
And personally, I’ve not got answers, perhaps never will, though I’d be grateful for anything.
But I can say this (having lived for many years), don’t make things worse for yourself, nor cut your life short,
'Cause you’re too darn precious for that, even if no one's told you so, nor given you the time or thought.

Okay, so you’ve messed up — well, you haven’t got that on your own (and such is no wonder), yes, me too,
But you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, so don’t let your background wreck that, because you will get through,
And still have a good life too, though if you’ve a mind too, and that’s the key, as the past we can’t undo,
'Cause even when we figure out what went wrong, why we're like we are, it still comes down to me and you.

This world's full of the walking wounded, oft the result of bad parenting, parents not being there,
They busy with their career, too tired once home, many working due to necessity, to be fair.
Hence those latchkey kids, mums not there when they’re babes, infants, toddlers, preschoolers, nor there through their school years,
Hence that empty house, they lonely, neglected, and thus feeling rejected, no waiting arms or ears.

So I understand — and oh, how oft things compound the situation — and yes, help not always there,
Hence why we wounded oft have to make it on our own, but here's something useful I’d like to share,
And though it may sound corny, it’s a constructive thing, and a friend, but forgive me, a kind of prayer:
“Help me to be to others what I so desire they'd be to me, but aren’t,” because the answer’s there.

You see, people may never be there for us like they should be, and many simply don’t understand,
Nor care, and thus we wasting our time feeling angry, rather than getting what we can from life, and,
Putting our own experience to good use by reaching out to fellow sufferers, we near at hand,
Rather than letting our wounds spoil the rest of our life, or see us take our life, when hope’s near at hand.

And that hope's found in healing that comes from our caring for others, as there’s no hope in being angry,
'Cause all such does is finish the job that the wounder started, or worsen our battle, pointlessly.
Sure we’re handicapped, but not without ability, and nor incapable of victory,
Thus refusing to be victims, throwing off that mantle of oppression they placed on us so cruelly,

   Even unintentionally.

Yes, I know how much such hurts and hampers, and it’s the reason for our behaviour, but no excuse,
'Cause two wrongs don’t make a right, we not indulging in the same folly which will increase, not reduce.
It’s best we cut our losses, make the best of a bad situation, turning the tables on fate,
'Cause life’s an opportunity many don’t even get, too precious to waste on anger and hate.

Despite those things that can dog our steps (more so if we let them), we can still rise above such, and should,
Seeking what will aid us on the path to recovery, and when we do, success the likelihood,
'Cause as they say, where there’s the will there’s a way, and wounds common fare, thus something dealt with on the way,
And such how we achieve happiness regardless, joy midst the rain, and how in life’s puddles we play.

So don't nurse your wounds, nor become the prisoner of your background or the hostage of your thoughts — and please,
Don’t take it out on others, 'cause they've oft wounds of their own, some sad background which their joy seeks to seize.
And as I mentioned, it’s pointless to add to our load, more so when there's hope at the end of that road,
Which one may not think at the time, but trust me, I’ve been there, and all of which my attitude overrode.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 26 February 2020.

"It's easier to love and nurture a boy than mend a man."
Author Unknown

15. Hurting Others Is A Sickness

Hurting others is a sickness, and it’s time that we recognised this as being so, as such is clearly true,
For unkindness hardly comes from a loving source, but rather, from something that’s not well,  something that’s askew.
Therefore, when we hurt others, we display an illness that’s present in us — something on the surface, maybe —
Or something that is rooted deeply within us, that rather than treatment, requires serious surgery.

Hurting others is no small thing, for at the very least, such has within it the seeds of savagery,
The origin of such being a very evil force, one that’s unleashed the moment that we act unkindly.
And as to the results — well, a little can lead to a lot, for once the lid comes off the bottle of ill,
Who knows the quantity waiting to be spilled, let alone the potency that in each unkind act may dwell.

Oh, how lightly we oft take those little things we do — yes, those thoughtless words and deeds that hurt more than we think,
In other words, that behaviour that oft returns to haunt us, and that with the force of good is not in sync.
Yes, ever doing so, and seemingly never learning, an illness that’s more often requiring surgery,
A sickness that has clearly afflicted us all, though in varying degrees, and some of us terminally.

Oh for the day when a loving and caring antibiotic surges though the veins of humanity,
Curing as many as possible given that some seem incurable, addicted to acting selfishly.
But having said that, I know that there’re those of us who’re already on the mend, consciously trying to be
Everything to others that we’d like them to be to us, and thereby, helping them a better way to see.

By Lance Landall

Christian content or degree.

16.  There's A God Who Deeply Cares

Midst that oh so lonely pain that afflicts you, that horrid darkness that dogs you,
Of which even your loved ones may not understand, and thus kind of adding to,
There’s a God who deeply cares, One who the same loneliness and darkness knew too,
Having been there, felt that spirit crushing weight, that cruelness that distresses you.

Yes, Christ having suffered it all — betrayal, hurtful words, sadness — fatigue too,
Those emotional and physical rigors that drain, that’s made life hard for you.
Oh yes, Jesus is well aware, and He’s longing to relieve you of it all,
His heart bleeding with compassion, His ears hearing every desperate call.

Hence why He’s always there, always near, and His watchful heavenly angels too,
Which means you really aren’t alone despite others seemingly deserting you.
No, Heaven full of encouraging shouts — oh, if only you could see and hear —
And when you get to Heaven (praise God for His grace), all those supporters will cheer.

So suffering’s clearly not due to the absence of God (our Saviour and Lord),
But the presence of a devil who tries to sever our spiritual cord.
We so in need of that connection, God our hope and sure friend, right till the end,
That blesséd time when safe in His loving arms we’ll sigh with joy and wholly mend.

By Lance Landall

Christian content or degree.

17.  God's Hurting Too

Some think that You’re heartless, cruel and indifferent, Lord, given all the terrible suffering that we see,
But I reckon it must tear You apart inside, Lord, You no doubt wishing you could’ve stopped it instantly.
But You knew better, for had You done so, there would’ve been murmurings throughout eternity about You,
And all, Lord, wondering if Lucifer had a point, and whether he should’ve been given time and chance too.

For how could he prove his case if the required evidence he couldn’t pursue, he having been zapped by You?
Not that he has ever found any, nor will, but still, fairness would surely give him the chance to such pursue.
And this being why Adam and Eve had to be given the chance to discover who was telling the truth or not,
As your kingdom, rulership-cum-reputation, Lord, can’t afford the slightest doubt, shadow, taint, smear or spot.

And hence why things have to play out, and You knowing the required length of time, for we can’t see things like You can,
You knowing Satan’s ultimate plan, an outcome that the whole universe must see, and not just fallen man.
And meantime, You no doubt wishing it all could’ve been ended long ago, such tearing You apart inside,
But any interference from You, Lord, would defeat Your hands-off transparency, and wisdom override.

Yes, You knowing that those murmurings would resurface, and that therefore, You have to wait as much as we do,
For You never created robots, nor are You a dictator; and thus dammed if You don’t, dammed if You do.
All of which is why things have to play out, and then, all will truly see and understand why such had to be,
But meantime, You bearing the brunt of unfair accusations, Lord, and hurting within just as much as we.

Yes, just like we hurt when allowing our children to go through certain things that we wish they didn’t have to,
Some of them things we could shield them from, but in the long run, such would see them suffer more so, and we such rue.
And thus how we know that You value freedom of choice and expression, and why this lesson will serve all well,
For once the final outcome is seen — forever to be known — no one will doubt You again, Lord, nor rebel.

By Lance Landall

See my poem Where Was Christ In Las Vegas? which is on my page The Evil Of Violence.


18.  Spring And Autumn

It’s always sad when another flower droops, drops its petals and wastes away,
It soon a memory, a precious rose, say, that’s perfume enhanced life’s bouquet.
And so it is with the passing of loved ones, those members of Earth’s family,
Which leaves us with an emptiness, the reality of our mortality.

And why from seedling to bloom we should nourish and cherish each life-jostled head
That resides in that same and yet ever changing spring and autumn flowerbed.
And when life’s ticking clock claims another, we grieving again, and,
Keeping the love-light burning, sympathy and empathy always close at hand.

And we recognising that there’ll never be another you, another me,
Each human flower a personal expression that’s been crafted uniquely.
Hence why we’re all the lesser for someone’s passing, but richer for their having been,
And why via life’s spring and autumn, a deeper, more striking tapestry is seen.

By Lance Landall

In memory of my mother-in-law who passed away on the 13 of August 2016, aged 86.

19.  Mother

Our dear mother’s gone now, she’s blissfully at rest, free from crippling age,
Her funeral her final curtain call and farewell from earth’s stage.
But mother won’t be forgotten, nor remembered infrequently,
For she continues in her children, each one of us, individually.

Mother bore us in her womb, raised us faithfully and lovingly,
Now we’re chapters in her book, woven threads in her tapestry.
And in the depths of our hearts, our love for our mum will never cease,
Nor our memories of her, until we too, are resting in peace.

From the clutches of death — yes, dust to dust, nobody is immune,
For life is but a fleeting span — and too often, it ends too soon.
Therefore, it pays to treasure moments, for our memories live on,
And they’re better when they’re sweeter, after one’s final breath has gone.

And the memories of our dear mother are very sweet indeed,
Thus, over her sad departure, our hearts will most certainly bleed.
But amidst that sadness, the perfume of her love will linger, and,
Each of us will know that though she’s gone, she’s still very close at hand.

By Lance Landall

In memory of my mother who passed away on the 24th of August 2009, aged 94.

20.  In Memory

In this world in which we live, Summer gives way to Autumn, hence those falling leaves,
And so it is with loved ones, those chilly Winters that arrive, and why one grieves.
But midst it all, that coming together of friends and family, the grief shared,
Others thus seeing that over that fallen human leaf, there were those who cared.

Life’s so very short, and the years seeming to race these days, as if conveying:
Show that same care every day midst all those other things you’re doing and saying.
Regret only adding to grief, and each human an individual leaf,
One that cannot be duplicated, and their presence in this world very brief.

And so it is that a loved one’s farewelled, but left living in the heart and mind,
Where the same love, thought and care for every individual we should find.
Every life precious, every leaf a loss, but more buds soon appearing,
Winters giving way to Spring, and once again, another life this world sharing.

Each death nourishing those family trees, those connecting branches that we trace,
Leaves coming and leaves going, and hence those returning blossoms that busy bees chase.
Departed loved ones having played their part, their essence living in their offspring,
Who, just like birds, nestle in that same family tree, and similar songs sing.

By Lance Landall

Penned in memory of my brother Basil who passed away 27 May 2019 at age 82.

21. Don't Forget The Grieving

In this sad old world in which we live, the loss of loved ones is part and parcel of it all, a burden that we share,
Well, at least a burden that we should share in the sense of being there, but oh, how quickly people seem to disappear.
Yes, it’s not that many weeks after the funeral that they’re no longer around, and when help is perhaps needed more,
So tell me, why is it that after the initial fuss and affection is over, there’re far less knocks on the door?

After all, the pain of losing a loved one hardly ebbs away as quickly as many unthinking people do,
Who forget that when all the attention has dropped off, a greater emptiness can surround, and there're those night-times too.
And many grieve for a very long time, and suffer terribly from such loss, thus needing as much help as before,
That being, as much help as they got initially when people heard the sad news; and in many cases, need far more.

The loss of a loved one can be devastating, one of the hardest things to bear, and for some, it is the hardest,
Hence why they need support throughout, and given that for some folk it’s all too much — yes, they no longer want to exist.
And such a state isn’t always clear to those around them, for folk can bottle things up inside, things that they may not share,
And hence why when it comes to those who have lost a loved one, they should continue to receive our thought, time, love and care.

Yes, that drop in attention after a number of weeks is a very sad thing indeed, adding insult to injury;
Along with the fact that many after the loss of a loved one are also faced with difficulties financially.
And, let me add, burying a loved one is hardly cheap, a cost that seems an injury in itself, quite frankly,
And why things should be set up in such a way that no one benefits personally from funerals financially.

Well, in my mind anyway.

By Lance Landall

22.  R.I.P Simba

The saddest thing that I ever did was to put a much loved cat down, Simba, who,
Forever sought affection, those chin type smooches that he quickly cottoned onto.
In fact, his demands were quite insatiable, too much at times, a kind of strain,
Though he was very passive and yet restless, hated being stuck inside come rain.

His brother thus on his own, once thirteen years together, and he showing the loss,
Such a very sad thing as well, despite him always acting like the boss.
That choice to put his brother Simba down being very hard indeed, and hence why
It hurts when I think of him, but freedom from misery I just couldn’t deny.

It seems so unfair that he’s no longer here, his brother still alive, until
That time that comes to all, man or beast, and beneath the ground we lie quiet and still.
And I regretting those moments of frustration or avoidance, and much more so
Near the faster approaching end of his life, which, until then, I didn’t know.

It only a cat, you might say,  but a life is a life, and he once smooching me,
Hence why I feel for those people who’ve lost a member of their human family.
No life (be it that of a human or creature) should pass without tears in ones eye,
And bearing in mind that there will also come a time of passing for you and I.

By Lance Landall

Christian content or degree.

23.  Dear Grieving One

Oh, how we await that day when the sting of death we’ll feel no more, that heartbreak,
Yes, that pain that only those who grieve know, that loneliness-cum-that gnawing ache.
And come that day will, for Christ has promised such relief, and hears each griever’s cry,
He meantime seeking to comfort with expressions of love till those tears He’ll dry.

So take heart, dear grieving one, for Christ is grieving too, He well knowing your pain,
For your loved one’s loved even greater by Him, and hence why those nail prints remain.
And why you can be assured of His love too, and more so at such a sad time,
For Christ will be holding the ladder when from those grieving depths you seek to climb.

Yes, no one’s had cause to grieve more than Christ, the wounded comforter, healer too,
Who delights in delivering healing balm, helping grievers find their way through.
And you will, despite those dark days, dark days that Christ has known too, hence that light,
Those heavenly rays of sunshine that cut through clouds of grief, and say, “Hope’s in sight.”

And indeed it is, for Christ will soon return, and such grieving will be no more,
All being why we have an eternity of unbridled happiness in store.
Yes, death’s sting finally gone, no more heartbreak, gnawing ache, loneliness or tears,
Christ having dealt with such once and for all — a Saviour who truly loves and cares.

By Lance Landall

In memory of a friend — John Matsis — who passed away on the 29 May, 2013, (and who often,
for a period of time, helped me by checking my grammar and playing the devil's advocate).

Christian content or degree.

24.  When Death Claims Your Loved One

Though death is our enemy, and thus heartache and loneliness the lot of those who’re left behind to mourn,
We've a hope that’s found in Christ, that promise of a resurrection, and His sure presence from dusk to dawn.
And oh, how such is needed, 'cause company and sympathy oft wane, and memories prompt sighs and tears,
But that’s when Christ is even closer and dearer, and we have the reassurance that He hears our prayers.

So should you be amongst the grieving, and your loss keenly felt, know that Christ feels each pang of anguish too,
'Cause His love's still as deep as that of Calvary's, and He too, loneliness and heartache had to go through.
Hence why He’ll not forsake you, and why midst life’s shadows He’s always there, He full of tender loving care,
So rest in that love, 'cause like a father holds his child in his arms, so Christ will hold you, and hush your fear.

Oh, how He sympathises, longs for that day when He will wipe away such tears, and death will be no more,
He never intending that we suffer so, nor be parted from Him (proven by that cross His frame bore),
But that rather, we only know peace and joy, not heartbreak and misery, the latter to disappear,
'Cause with a shout of triumph, and surrounded by clouds of angels, our loving Saviour will soon appear.

But meantime, don't forget that naught escapes His tender compassion, that He’s watching over you,
Yes, every moment of every day, 'cause He who notes each fallen sparrow, takes note of our loss too.
All why midst our grieving we've a friend indeed, 'cause He grieves with us, and bids us rest in His outstretched arms,
No one understanding like Christ, nor caring as deeply, hence those nail prints forever etched on His palms.

By Lance Landall

This poem was upgraded 15 February 2020.

In memory of my sister Juanita who passed away on the 26th of April 2012, aged 72.