"Thoughts" from the Phyllis Tuckwell Hospice

(page two)

If I should go before the rest of you,
Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone.
Nor when I'm gone speak in a Sunday voice.
But be the usual selves that I have known.
Weep if you must.
Parting is hell.
But life goes on.
So sing as well.
Joyce Grenfell

What is dying? I am standing on the sea shore. A ship sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon, and someone at my side says, "she is gone." Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all: she is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination. The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not her: and just at the moment when someone at my side says, "she is gone," there are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout, "there she comes" - and that is dying.
Bishop Brent

Miss Me But Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road
and the sun has set on me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room,
Why cry for a soul set free.
Miss me a little--but not too long,
and not with your head bowed low,
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me--but let me go.
For this is a journey that we all must take,
And each must go alone.
It's all a part of the Master's plan,
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart,
Go to the friends we know.
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds,
Miss me--but let me go.
(Unknown)

Wax Idol

I sat in the glow of the candlelight,
Content to just relax.
Watching with amazement
At the flowing melting wax.

At first, it formed a mountain ridge,
As it reached the candle's base.
And filled I was with bewilderment
As it turned into a face.

I at once blew out the flickering flame,
Lest I lose the newfound caste.
I put away this burned down candle,
As a reminder of the past.

Alas, this idol crumbled,
When only a few days old.
God is the only Potter,
Who puts life in his Human Mould.

Norman Thomas Hedger
Hospice patient

If you find these "Thoughts" comforting,
please consider purchasing Beyond The Rainbow from our online store.

It is a beautiful and thought-provoking book containing an anthology of poetry and prose written by patients, carers, staff at the Hospice and more well-known and not so well-known writers. The poems have been compiled by the Hospice's Complementary Therapist Bridget Purser.

All profits from the sale of this book will go to the Hospice.