[Roger Slater]

I tried to write an epitaph
so witty it would sizzle,
but all that I could manage was
this lame rhyme you see fizzle.
Pity me, but pity most
the man who held the chisel.

[Marion Shore]

R.S. Gwynn, whose verses scanned,
brought out the Seuss in all of us.
We always liked you, Sam-I-Am,
We'll always miss you, Sam-I-Was.

[Marion Shore]

Roger Slater, your pseudonym
caused confusion, it is true:
Bob or Roger? Which is him?
Whatever. We miss both of you.

[Marion Shore]

Whether I'm a tortured wretch in
Hell, or feasting at God's table,
you can be certain I am kvetching
that you can't get a decent bagel.

[Marion Shore]

Beneath this stone lie man and wife.
Just think what she's enduring.
She gets no rest, for as in life
the old man won't stop snoring.

[Dan Halberstein]

Sure, here lies Marion;
Dropped, now she's carrion.

ew. sorry.

[Gail White]

This has become truly wonderful.

Going back to the classics for a minute, here's one that Alexander Pope wrote for himself:

FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY

Heroes and kings, your distance keep;
In peace let one poor poet sleep,
Who never flattered folks like you.
Let Horace blush and Virgil too.

[David Anthony]

Clemens had this inscribed on his daughter's grave:


Warm summer sun shine kindly here
Warm southern wind blow softly here
Green sod above lie light, lie light
Good night, dear heart, good night, good night.


These lines at first were generally attributed to Samuel Clemens. When this was reported to him he ordered the name of the Australian poet, Robert Richardson, cut beneath them. The word "southern" in the original read "northern," as in Australia. the warm wind is from the north. Richardson died in England in 1901.

Verses like this teach us humility, I believe.

[Marion Shore]

That's beautiful, David.