Feels good as chain clunks from one socket to the next and the ticking whirring of freewheel and zipping noise of fast tires on flat asphalt. It knocks down the road toward the next wreckers yard,And it cant get far; whos driving this car? Because your heart was simply gold,What a shame, you werent that old,Gone now for good, not good youve gone,Our memories will linger on. Poems for those who excelled at the supple sport of gymnastics, at whatever level. We never had the chance to play,To laugh, to rock, to wiggle.We long to hold you, touch you nowAnd listen to you giggle. And then the justice,In fair round belly with good capon lind,With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part. When great trees fallin forests,small things recoil into silence,their senseseroded beyond fear. My toes may bleedAnd my knees, grow weakBut Ill never stop dancingNot until I reach my peak. For the field is full of shades as I near the shadowy coast, And a ghostly batsman plays to the bowling of a ghost, And I look through my tears . Go after your dreams.Be bold. One is MS Dhoni and the other are the all others. Funeral Poems For Cricketers "A Cricketer's Last Boundary" A CRICKETER'S LAST BOUNDARY Weeping willows formed an honour guard For the cricket ball writ with a noble name A team of ten, which had once been eleven Would never be the same side again No bails united the forlorn stumps Since this wicket had fallen some days ago Dear God, please take care of my little girl,The one with big eyes and soft brown curls.She was special, as you should know.I really didnt want to let her go. As you touched our livesWith your generosity and careYour laughter and love always shone through. In our hearts there is a placeThat only you can hold;Filled with loving memoriesMore precious than gold. I cant say goodbye.I cant acceptYour death.You will live in my heartForeverUntil my last breath. Our world without a dazzling fight.So hear this now, my love, my lifeSince your sweet sunshine left the blueA brilliant rainbow spanned the skyAnd that is how well think of you. Its not the square footage of your houseor what you keep inside.Theres no material you possessthat proves success in life. Oh dear, if youre reading this right now,I must have given up the ghost.I hope you can forgive me for beingSuch a stiff and unwelcoming host. She wore her earringsLike a queenWith regal graceAnd a silent dignityThat only a womanWho knows who she isCan possess. You see, there is a shadow wherethere didnt used to be,and sometimes when I look right thereit just confuses me. A line, a house would pass me byThe frustration could make a grown man cry! Although your jokes were not that funny,And you seldom spent your money,Last to the bar and first to leave,That youre gones hard to believe. The moment I knew about youformed a bond that will never break This tiny life I have insidefrom me no-one could take. He arrived, not quite finished off,as his brother said one night,and, I bet Gods feeling awfully sadthat he didnt get him right.. enter an oceanfeeling insignificant,overwhelmed by its enormity. The feet of dancersShine with mirth,Their hearts are vibrant as bells: The air flows by themDivided like waterCut by a gleaming ship. Not just a freeway drive, but each outing on a mission,And not a veering trundle, but a task of deep precision,Not the tedium of traffic, relief at the arriving,The thrill is in the journey, and the passion in the driving. Grandmas quilts held memories,Of bygone days and years,Of loved ones gathered round the hearth,And tales of joy and cheer. Might be some themed words in that that could be used? Im giving up bridge Tonights my last nightIts amen to Staymen, I give up the fight.The insults and muddles are giving me troublesAnd I cant sleep at night for thinking of doubles. Forever the bells will be goneI do not know where to find themFor I thought not of their lightAnd I heard not what they sangWhen the ten thousand bells rang. Poems encouraging us to think positively in the face of death. But then, like sunshine, here and goneYou left us in the mournful dark.The time we shared was full of warmthOur flame sustained us through the yearsAnd now it lights the path aheadBetween the silence and the tears. Poems for those who loved building and rebuilding marvellous creations with those famous little bricks. "A Meeting" by Edith Wharton. The Archers Bow Shelbie Hale An ode to the oneness between archer and bow that has now come to an end.The Arrow And The Song Henry Longfellow Wadsworth A verse touching upon the impact people have on our lives.An Arrow Chosen From A Quiver anon A slightly religious poem comparing someones life to the release of an arrow. Years were not easy, many downright hard, but your faith in God transcended,Put away your tools and sleep in peace. A Bricklayer Lou Szymkow A poem reflecting the natural talents and hard-working craft of a bricklayer.Bricklayers Lament Sylvia Spencer A poem about a hard-working builder with a less-than-ideal team beneath him.The Bridge Builder Will Allen Dromgoole A touching poem about building bridges for others, rather than for yourself.Wreckers Or Builders? adapted from the original by Rudyard Kipling. So darling please tend to the candle for meAnd nourish the flame lest it diesTill the day when its radiant beauty I seeAnd it guides me at last to your side. You light up a room when you walk in.If someone feels sad, you can make them grin. Poems for Funerals and Memorial Services One does not leave a funeral in the same way that he has come. My lifes journey ended early,The path I chose was short.You all tried your best to change it,But in the end it was for me to sort. The warriors spirit never diesIt lives on in every fightIn every motion, every strideIt shines with power and might. BINGO, I shout, its my timeI finally got to complete that line! Poems for those who had a love of candles and incense, or poems that evoke candles and candlelight. The Fisher by Ruby Archer. When the long, dark night is overAnd heaven begins its reignI promise you my darlingI will see you again. The first verse of Sir Henry Newbolt's 'Play the Game'? The driver sees it differently, with their car becomes a part,Take the road together, hit the road, with a single beating heart,The turbos rising wail, and the exhausts muscled, subtle growl,To the drivers ear, an orchestra, theres music in that howl. Patti Masterman A poem about being grateful that your body lasted as long as it did. by Gabrielle Tintitranslation by David Graham. A list of 10 most popular In Memoriam verses and poems to be used on Memorial Cards. The archer and his bowNever cease to amaze;They are togetherThroughout all days. It's been mixed up week here at STW Towers, mostly thanks to everyone suddenly realising they haven't used up their annual leave so they'd better take some time off. We sit a whileWe guess bird namesWe look them upWe watch bird games. I will always remember you, brother of mine.In my heart I will keep you, so I will be fine. The pain of losing you is as intense as our love for you. They kept us warm on winter nights,A sense of peace and calm,They were more than just plain fabric;They were creations of her palm. Langston Hughes remarks: As Befits a Man. And now that youre not here, GranddadIll give double hugs to Nan.Goodnight, God bless you, Granddad,From your loving little man. The stark white ring-barked forests, all tragic to the moon,The sapphire-misted mountains, the hot gold hush of noon,Green tangle of the brushes where lithe lianas coil,And orchids deck the tree-tops, and ferns the warm dark soil. Beneath the world of land and skyIs another world; a world that IHave visited for a time, but could not stayAs long as I wanted. We are not members unfortunately. F amily man, first and foremost. She loves to sing all kinds of songs.Please tell her that she did no wrong.Would you comfort her and hold her in your arms tight?And tell her she is missed every day and night. Humour is an essential part of life, so why not of death. Haiku I wrote whilst out at some live jazz back in October, when it was warm enough for crickets. The members sat in their strong deckchairs, This bond that even death cant breakwill keep you here close by But I feel such pain and miss youmy Tiny Butterfly. No bails united the forlorn stumpsSince this wicket had fallen some days agoAnd as the bowler delivered to the lone batsmanThe hushed crowd willed a six to go. We will take this special momentTo turn our thoughts to Dad;To thank him for the home he gaveFor all the things we had. The bodys anatomy and physiology, the minds psychology must be knownBy a fighter in order for the perfect execution of a technique to be shownMartial arts is a pursue of knowledge, many things that one must learn,So the hidden swirling potential within gets drawn out to burn. Weeping willows formed an honour guardFor the cricket ball writ with a noble nameA team of ten, which had once been elevenWould never be the same side again. IM driving this thing, and this car is ME,And its all worn out, but I made it work. Nor is it the game of chance, that punting always brings, From TAB and bookies, and bar-room betting rings, The heady smell of fine manure, turf so lush and green, Fine dressed folk and superb horseflesh, making up the scene. cricket poems for funerals. So let us ride to help make others aware.That the roads that we ride are for all to share. Farewell to Middle-earth at last.I see the Star above my mast! I imagined you lifting your head, your arms,Loosening them, shedding skin and cells and boneTill you became all spirit, releasedInto the cairns, hills, the braes, barley,The sea lochs and the sea and at last,At least it seemed to me, you were free. Drowning or Diving? He strived so hard from day to dayAnd never oft complained,With steady hands he worked so hardAnd kept the family name, Dad dwells amongst the angels now;He left us much too soon.He is now with mum, his wife again;From pain he is immune. extract from As You Like It by William Shakespeare. !Farewell to conventions I give up the fight.So I leave with few words but some that are true,Bridge is a game not for me but for you. Funeral Poems; Memorial Poems, sayings, quotes, and verses; Celebration of Life Poems; Remembrance Poems The Comfort and Sweetness of Peace After the clouds, the sunshine, after the winter, the spring, after the shower, the rainbow, for life is a changeable thing. Everything Mum Joanna Fuchs A poem for a mum who somehow managed to do everything.Mother anon A verse reflecting upon a loving and devoted mother. I was here, I used it all,and now I am at peace. Invented one day by a guy named Webb How do go "I have a. So take this Cat eye, let it shineIn the dark, whereer tis foundAnd fettle not my bottom bracketAfore ye lay me in the ground. With great expectation you quietly sitGaining confidence, you smirk a bit.Here it comes, you see the ball,As you anxiously wait to hear the call. Like the car he drives,He will pass you in the fast lane of life,Like the blaring music from his car,He loves life and a good joke,Like the roaring engine of his car,His temper will take off like a racer to the finish line,With his fast car he ran straight through everyones heart,When his engine went he went along with his fast car to heaven,Going fast as he could down the road of eternal sleep,While he lies in his eternal sleep never to wake his fast car lies with him! Going to second Mass on a summer SundayYou meet me and you say:Dont forget to see about the cattleAmong your earthiest words the angels stray. Ring out the old, ring in the new,Ring, happy bells, across the snow:The year is going, let him go;Ring out the false, ring in the true. I am never without it (anywhere. Into some other thing. No wound so deep will ever goEntirely awayYet every hurt becomesA little less from day to day. Whee, in the airThe balls roll around, wheel on his wheeling hands,Learning the ways of lightness, alter to spheresGrazing his finger ends,Cling to their courses there,Swinging a small heaven about his ears. write me in historymove over King Tutyou aint got nothingon the legitimate King! The slapping of my leathersand raging winds on either side,drum a beat of sweet contentmentas I ride this, my last ride. We did so much togetherrode in carsshared our lovenear the campfireWith soft and tender armsTamed broken pasts. Wine comes in at the mouthAnd love comes in at the eye;Thats all we shall know for truthBefore we grow old and die.I lift the glass to my mouth,I look at you, and I sigh. The other equipment needed is a solid leather wrapped ball, a bat (one per batsman.) The final chapter of that is quite moving as the author was battling unsuccessfully against cancer to get it finished. Please know how many lives you touch.These words are my present. Sowellgono more a-climbingSolate into the night,Though the will be neer unyielding,And the urge be still as bright. So I handed him my bottleAnd he drank down my last swallowThen he bummed a cigaretteAnd asked me for a lightAnd the night got deathly quietAnd his face lost all expressionSaid, If youre gonna play the game, boyYou gotta learn to play it right. It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk, Though my own red roses there may blow; It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk, Though the red roses crest the caps, I know. The Clock Of Life Robert H. Smith A short verse reflecting upon the inevitability of time passing.My Grandfathers Clock Henry Clay Work The classic childrens song in its entirety.Stop All The Clocks W. H. Auden A poem demanding that the whole world stop to mourn the passing of a loved one. These funeral poems and readings are reflective and comforting. My joy increased, I felt you growas weeks went quickly by Then one blessed day, I felt you moveA tiny butterfly. That man would rock me off to sleep,Would wipe my tears when I did weep.He watched me go from crawl to walk,And smiled with pride when I learned to talk. They are not in any particular order or category as every person interprets a poem in their own way. May 5, 2020 - Explore Nancy Schlag's board "cowboy prayers" on Pinterest. " When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease " is a track on the Roy Harper album HQ, a prominent example of cricket poetry. Is there art and adventure?Tell me are you happy? It serves as a mark of respect to all who played in 2010 and as a memorial to the unknown village side, especially to those who may knowingly or unknowingly . Fly Like A Bird Javon Evans A poem detailing how wonderful and freeing it would be to fly.In Memoriam Victoria Bruce A poem encouraging mourners to think of the deceased in natures finer details.No Fear Of Flying anon A message from the deceased that they are no afraid to fly or to die. I shall remain in hearts and mindsOf loved ones that I knew,And in the rocks and hills and streamsBecause I love those, too. And if the way grows darker still,Shadowed by Sorrows sombre wing,With glad defiance in my throat,I pierce the darkness with a note,And sing, and sing. Oh life! We had a wonderful grandmotherOne who never really grew oldHer smile was made of sunshineAnd her heart was solid gold. Wonderful wood full of carbon is ecologicalThe carpenter stands back in his craftsmans callWorking with your hands shows a skill so goodAs he works he magic cutting and shaping the wood. The LORD is my caddie; I shall not whiff.He maketh me to drive straight down green fairways:He leadeth me over the still waters.He restoreth my swing:He leadeth me in the paths of truthfulness for the games sake.Yea, though I pitch through the valley of the shadow of the woods,I will fear no bunkers: for thou art with me;Thy wedge and thy putter they comfort me.Thou preparest a line before me in the presence of mind hazards:Thou anointest my stroke with confidence;the cup will not be runneth over.Surely birdies and eagles shall follow me all the rounds of my life:and I will dwell in the clubhouse of the LORD for ever. Roads go ever ever onUnder cloud and under star,Yet feet that wandering have goneTurn at last to home afar.Eyes that fire and sword have seenAnd horror in the halls of stoneLook at last on meadows greenAnd trees and hills they long have known. Just know our love goes deep and strongWell forget you neverThe child we had, but never hadAnd yet will have forever! If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelids soundless blink,The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alightUpon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think,To him this must have been a familiar sight., If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm,When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn,One may say, He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm,But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.. You know Ill always ride hereeven when my ridings doneIn the whisper of the pre-dawnor the final burst of sunAt the corners of transitionwhere the changes are obscuredI will ride and if you see meits because our love has endured. You always believed that the good Lord would provide and He always had somehow,Take off your gloves and put them down, no more sweat and worry for you now. Some Folk Pam Nelson A poem reflecting on how a person made everyone around them feel special and loved. To the feet of your Lord, your Saviour, and your friend. A timers ringing in my earThe dish of my lifetime is finally hereLove, family, friendship and cakeIngredients that really helped keep me awakeBut Ive now run out of that most important of allIve scoured the kitchen and even searched the hallIf only Id been more sage with my thymeAnd possibly quaffed alittleless wineSo please stand and shout with me, if you dont mindMORE THYME! Death is Not the End Footballs a match made in heavenWhich is fan-tastic news for meAnd heavens a level playing fieldWhere anyone can kick off for free. A limb has fallen from the family tree.I keep hearing a voice that says,Grieve not for me.Remember the best times,the laughter, the song.The good life I livedwhile I was strong.Continue my heritage,Im counting on you.Keep smiling and surelythe sun will shine through.My mind is at ease,my soul is at rest.Remembering all,how I truly was blessed.Continue traditions,no matter how small.Go on with your life,dont worry about falls.I miss you all dearly,so keep up your chin.Until the day comeswere together again.. The birds and the nearby bubbling brookAre the only sounds that I hearThe click of the freewheel of courseAnd the wind whistling by my ear. Ive grown up with your values,And Im very glad I did;So heres to you, dear father,From your forever grateful kid. Hes got speed and endurance.But if you sign to fight him, increase your insurance.This kids got a left, this kids got a right,If he hit you once, youre asleep for the night.And as you lie on the floor while the ref counts 10,You pray that you wont have to fight me again. But there are those whose whole life is a blessing,Not just a moment, a smile or a word.They make all around them feel special,No person ignored or unheard. Your email address will not be published. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your backOr you can do what he would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on. Then a soldier,Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,Seeking the bubble reputationEven in the cannons mouth. Its always opening time in heavenAnd the alcohol doesnt go to your headIt floats around in ones etherAnd fortifies your spirit instead. Theres a picture I cant look away fromWith simplicity of your innocence.Theres a picture of what love can becomeWith simplicity, strength and elegance. I am a martial artist. All through the swing he hears the boat singAs she glides on her flying track,And he gathers aft to strike the craftWith a ringing bell note crack. I hope I touched your lives one day,and left a treasured mark,now Ill ride on to forever,with your memory in my heart. When a butterfly come to you, Ive been told,That its from someone in heaven, a past soul.If you keep a look out, if you open your heart,The things that were ordinary will now stand apart.I think if we look, read between the lines,You will find clues and you will find signs,That your loved one isnt past, not really, not gone,That they are not here, that they have just moved on.It is said that there is not death, just life and transitions,From the teachings of Buddha to the beliefs of the Christians.So from my heart, from my hope and belief,May you find many butterflies to assist with your grief. It also comes in handy When Im working on a rhyme. These our actors,As I foretold you, were all spirits andAre melted into air, into thin air:And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,The cloud-cappd towers, the gorgeous palaces,The solemn temples, the great globe itself,Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolveAnd, like this insubstantial pageant faded,Leave not a rack behind. Closer, the bowlers arm swept down, Poems for those who lived their life in rural areas, or simply shared a passion for rolling hills and sprawling fields. Granddad,We know you can no longer stay with us,you fought long and hard to be with us.We know you now watch over and protect us.Although we cannot hear your voice or see your smiling face,We know deep down in our hearts that you have not left us.Instead every day you surround us with the singing of the birds,the rising of the sun and the falling of night.So many broken hearts are left behind,But in our deepest despair our greatest comfort lies knowingthat you are now at peace with the angels and God.So as times passes our tears will dry,our hearts will mend,but our love for you will never end. Your family had joined a larger family of caregivers,Professionals, friends, and team mates.As the days go by, you are called upon to assistSomeone in need,Leaving your family known to you and love,Knowing someday something may go wrong. thanks for reminding meTheres just time before I failTo stand on ceremonyTwo rashers of best back, Should keep meSmelling sweet up the smokestackSo, mother, put the kettle on for meIts time, mother, for my long cup of tea. Poems for those who had a calm aura, or poems for those who seek calmness in death. Written with a pen.Sealed with a kiss.If you are my friend,please answer this: Are we friendsOr are we not?You told me onceBut I forgot. My grandfathers clock was too large for the shelf,So it stood ninety years on the floor.It was taller by half than the old man himself,Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,And was always his treasure and pride;But it stopped short never to go again When the old man died. A Drinking Song - W. B. Yeats - a short verse pondering over the role of wine and love in life. He hopes for a blissful afterlife for the man, and knows that if there isn't one, he's happy knowing his friend made the best of his. The Lord is my pilot, I shall not drift.He guides me across the dark waters.He steers me through deep channels.He keeps my log.Yea, though I sail mid the thundersand tempest of life,I shall dread no anger, for He is with me;His love and His care, shelter me.He prepares a quiet harbour before me.He anoints the waves with oilMy ship rides calmly.Surely sunlight and starlightshall guide me on the voyage I take,And I will rest in the heavens port forever. Also the late, great Peter Tinniswood wrote a fantastic pair of books called "tales from the long room" and "more tales from the long room". He knew that you were suffering,He knew you were in pain;He knew that you would neverGet well on earth again. Thtitiede. The warriors spirit is like a flameThat burns so bright, lighting the wayAnd its fire will always remainIn the hearts of those who train each day. Day is ended, dim my eyes,but journey long before me lies.Farewell, friends! We rubbed our chins and scratched our heads just what did it mean?Try menacing, or angry,or something in between? Go on with the day,go on with the night,enjoy the richeslife has to offer. Did you say 'over'? Her creations all made with such skill and such careLove knitted into the gifts who would shareA jacket for a baby, a blanket or twoIn almost every shade from pink to blue. When my bowling ball reaches the end of the alleyI hope for a strike.And when my life culminates in a dramatic finale,Heres what Id like: Id like to look back and not to feel blue;But to know that I rumbled through life straight and true.Id like to laugh at all the times I made your sides split,With moments of hilarity, of humour and of wit. For they existed. I would be wearing a favourite dressYou as always looking your usual bestFeeling like Cinderella at the BallWith the most handsome Prince Charming of all. My trumpet is silentAs it is with my life tooNo more shall I play for youThere is nothing left to do. by | Jul 10, 2021 | opentimeclock 2004 login | list of navy reserve units | Jul 10, 2021 | opentimeclock 2004 login | list of navy reserve units Michael Ashby A fun, slightly religious poem with plenty of bingo terminology within.Numbers Up Rebecca Spilsbury A wonderfully moving poem urging the bereaved to live on proudly.Prayer For Bingo Players Bob Barci A fun prayer asking for the perfect conditions for a bingo night.Twenty-Four Numbers anon A poem about the joys of bingo. And at the end of that good lifewhen it came time for him to diethe old carpenter soaredinto the white light of death for the white light is where the good souls go to. Best Rugby Poems. Only to change. Hes asked me if I would care to danceCant refuse, so Ill take the chanceTrembling as he takes me into his armsGliding together as the music starts.
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