Poem/verse fro after communion

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newlynch Posts: 24
Apologies as i know this probably not right forum to post this in but will give it a go anyway. ust wondering if anybody has nice poem/verse for after communion which we are getting our friend to read for us. Had one picked but we don't like it now. My brother has passed away during last year so not sure if i want one that too sad, just something nice about love and marriage and maybe one about kids as we have two year old. All suggestions are welcome. Thanks
Spudnik2b Posts: 1804
Not sure if this is the kind of thing you are after but we are having his mother read this out after communion A good marriage must be created. In a marriage the little things are the big things. It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say ‘I love you’ at least once a day. It is never going to sleep angry. It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives. It is standing together facing the world. It is forming a circle of love that gathers the whole family. It is speaking the words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways. It is having a capacity to forgive & forget. It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each other can grow. It is a common search for the good and the beautiful. It is not only marrying the right person, it is being the right person.
sarhar101 Posts: 381
That's lovely, madhatter... :thnk
Betsy May Posts: 2168
I love this and it's sort of appropriate for people who have been together a while. It doesn't mention kids but you could change "your mother and I had it" to "your mother and father have it" and address the reflection to your child (if you don't think that's too soppy :-8 ) - it's from Captain Corelli's Mandolin: [i:2ibqiy3k]Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two. [/i:2ibqiy3k] We are having the traditional Irish blessing (may the road rise up to meet you etc.) hopefully in Irish.