The steely spring and the musical ringOf the blade with the biting grip,The stretching draw of the bending oarThat rounds the turn with a whip. Grandmas quilts were always there,A comforting, colourful sight,A source of warmth and motherly love,On cold and lonely nights. But then that week I held her handAnd it slipped away one last timeAnd now theyre in a better placeThose hands that once held mine. God looked around his gardenAnd found an empty place,He then looked down upon the earthAnd saw your tired face. You loved the roaring of the crowd,The rush of victory,You loved the sweat, the tears, the toil,The adrenaline, so sweet. So, if this is the last timeWe speak, then may I say,Life with you was good, my friend,And Ill see you on the 19th one day. And bayberry, that through sweet bevies thread. For you can feel the engine, as the revs rise at your command,Feeling the lusty thrust of power, that answers your demand,How the clutch feels underfoot, as each gear is selected,The steering too, how it responds, to where it is directed. Hum a song to me as I lean over into the bend and the bike leans with me. Blessed art Thou oh Lord our God!Thou hast made the sand, the grass the trees,and gently in the tallest oak,You waft a gentle breeze.You drew the bubbling little brook.You painted the placid pond.You sigh the deepest twilight.And smile the brightest dawn.Beneath the fog, beneath the mist,that drifts across the ground,You twirl Your mighty finger,and spin this world around.The hills, the valleys, the winding wood,inspire a soul to sing,was ever there such beauty, Lordwhere rolls the emerald greenOh God, I know You are a golfer,Your work does thus demand.It seems Your only handicap,is this thing that You call man.Can this be an island, Lord?A place of grace and charm.Away from daily trouble Lord,away from daily harm?We pray that this may be, dear God,a place where love extends.Where travellers come as strangersand golfers leave as friends! All Internet links/videos/pictures in here ONLY, Optical equipment repair and refurbishment as a hobby. It took you as my mother,A girl you did become.Searching for the answersAnd looking for your mum. Do you have a pavilion Lord?Where we could sit and talk?Can you give me lots of energySo that I am never short? Martial arts is so much more than just a fighting art:It strengthens one spiritually by connecting the soul and heart,Martial arts does more than strengthening the mind, body and soul,It teaches you discipline, lessons to keep emotions under control. Dear Lord, each time I bowl a frameI thank you for this striking game.Each step I take down the alleys laneIm glad I can play sunshine or rain.When Ive hooked my final Bowling BallPlease spare me a split when I answer your call,And take my mortal soul to beWith you in Heavenly Bowl. enter an oceanfeeling insignificant,overwhelmed by its enormity. God saw her getting tiredAnd a cure was not to beSo he put His arms around herAnd whispered Come to me.. Mum would cook our dinnerDad came home at fiveWe were all sitting at the tableWaiting for him to arrive. As I Look Up To The Skies Above anon A sorrowful poem about how the world is a shade darker after losing someone.Requiem Robert Louis Stevenson A beautiful poem about acceptance, and being laid to rest under the night sky.The Sombre Astronomer Michael Humphries A short poem of longing to be with our lost loved ones again.There Is A New Star Shining In The Sky Tonight Sarah Hartwell Some prose reflecting upon the stars in the night sky. He said, Son, Ive made a lifeOut of readin peoples facesKnowin what the cards wereBy the way they held their eyesSo if you dont mind my sayinI can see youre out of acesFor a taste of your whiskeyIll give you some advice.. In Tag, celebrityattached to beingIt,so why share it? For each flag sitting foldedFor all the world to seeA soldiers spirit is soaringOer a nation that is free. Gambling: a lie appliedto organized theft. adapted from the original by Rudyard Kipling. Over and over againjust as he had done all his serving dayshis lips would still defiantly and valiantly speakof how he had fought so hard that enemy flamewith every ounce of strength his body could aim. of the questions of these recurring,Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities filld with the foolish,Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless? Id like to sow the barren spotswith all the flowers of earth,To leave a path where those who comeshould find but gentle mirth;And when at last Im called uponto join the heavenly throngId like to feel along my wayId left no sign of wrong. Im old and Im bitter, with nothing to fearSo I hope I offend you by bending your ear.Its my one joy in life you can like it or not No answer in edgeways? 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. Oh life! But here is your race medalFrom me with all my heartYoull wear my gold at every stepAnd we will never be apart. Though we never knowWhere life will take us,I know its just a rideOn the wheel.And we never knowWhen death will shake usAnd we wonder howIt will feel.So Goodbye my friend.I know Ill never see you again.But the time togetherThrough all the years,Will take away these tears.Its OK now Goodbye my friend.I see a lot of thingsThat make me crazy,And I guess I held on to you,You could have run awayAnd left well maybe,But it wasnt timeAnd we both knew.So Goodbye My friend.I know Ill never see you again.But the love you gave meThrough all the yearsWill take away these tears.Im OK now Goodbye my friend. We rowed, my friend and I, out past the swallowing reeds and the water lilies to where the river opened into a world of morning light and the herons voices and the musky scent of redemption and then we dipped our oars in unison and glided silently toward heaven. Poems for those who enjoyed a bout in the ring, or who enjoyed taking in a big fight. So as we lay them down to restWell watch one final filmIn honour of their memoryAnd the love they had for them. 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. Just know our love goes deep and strongWell forget you neverThe child we had, but never hadAnd yet will have forever! The Sadness Of Clothes Emily Fragos A poem about the sad things clothes might feel when their owner dies.A True Fashionista Mark Gregory A short poem highlighting how the deceaseds beauty will live on after death. MORE THYME! At PoemSearcher.com find thousands of poems categorized into thousands of categories. The life of man is like a game of chess,The which he plays according to his art;Winning or losing he doth nothing lessThan to obey the dictates of his heart. But now youre gonebut yet youre hereWell sense you everywhere.You are our sorrow and our joy,Theres love in every tear. To the pearly gates of Heaven, where they will usher you in. She had a collection, an unusual collection, Of four thousand and forty two, Colourful, shapely, dangly rings, From green to gold to blue. My joy increased, I felt you growas weeks went quickly by Then one blessed day, I felt you moveA tiny butterfly. You graced us with your presence and charm,And your love for fashion always set you apart.Now, as you rest, your beauty remains,Forever stylish and chic, without any pains. Non-religious funeral readings are a beautiful way to connect to grieving loved ones, giving you the ability to make a non-religious funeral personal and unique. Poems for watchmakers, clock collectors, or anyone who had a passion for timekeeping. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from sea; And the hunter home from the hill. But look at the family,Created by only two.How many weve become,And all because of you. The Cricket Bag concludes with one of his poems which Third Man hopes no one will mind him passing on. Old Father Time, I pray to youThat clouds give it a rest,And that I get a game today,And that I play my best. Gymnasts (Sonnet #52) Paul Rowley A beautiful sonnet about the fine line between success and failure.Her Chosen Way Mark Gregory A rhyming poem about the beauty and skill of a female gymnast.The Way He Moved Mark Gregory A poem in free verse about the graceful movements of a gymnast. An opal-hearted country, a wilful, lavish land All you who have not loved her, you will not understand Though earth holds many splendours, wherever I may die,I know to what brown country my homing thoughts will fly. Feel No Guilt In Laughter anon A call not to feel guilty at sharing happy and funny memories of the deceased.Last Will And Testament Max Scratchmann A light-hearted message from the deceased to their living relatives. He wanted someone strong,A support filled with love,So he created fathers,Sent from heaven up above. Poems for those who brought laughter into our lives. Dont weep at my grave,For I am not there.Ive a date with a butterflyTo dance in the air.Ill be singing in the sunshine,Wild and free,Playing tag with the windWhile Im waiting for thee. He firmly held his bowl in handHis eyes they were unblinking;None could tell what he had plannedOr just what he was thinking.Then slowly down his body wentHis bowl arm was at the readyTo neither side his torso leantHe was so sure and steady. Last Journey Timothy Coote A rhythmic poem ideal for someone who loved locomotives. Can anyone help me? anon A poem wondering whether one has done productive or destructive deeds in life. Poems perfect for those fond of legs eleven and two little ducks in the bingo hall. The board is your target, not the mat,So, be careful what youre aiming at! When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay,And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say,He was a man who used to notice such things? Here is the funeral poem: Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, We are not members unfortunately. Although I didnt understandI still told everyoneWith a love thats undeniedId say That is my son. A Legacy of Stitches is what we leave behind;the imprint of our very soul that lasts beyond our time.The heart that quilts knows, oh, so well the peace that can be found,as needle meets with fabric, for there is no sweeter sound.Whether quiet piecing done by hand or on our sewing machine,theres rhythm to our stitches as we sew along each seam.Those stitches tell the story of our lives as they unfoldas we think of quilts that Grandma made with stories left untold.The humdrum of our daily lives grows elegant and grand,when we start to cut the pieces, then stitch the fabric in our hands.And whatever is the reason for the quilts we piece and sew,and whoever is the maker, there is one thing that we know.Each quilt is full of memories and is a treasured thing.If quilts could talk, imagine how some quilts would surely sing!For some quilts are sewn in happy times and others when were sad,and some are sewn in laughter and others when were mad.Some are sewn to warm us, and some sewn just for fun,and some are works in progress that never quite get done!Some quilts are sewn for beauty, a quilt made just for show,but the heart of the true quilter is the one who really knows That no matter how the quilt is stitched, we leave our mark in time.This Legacy of Stitches is what we leave behind. by only me is your doing, my darling) I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant. Do not go gentle into that good night, Thou life giving wheelWhose sinews are steelMy veins imbibe life from thine ownAnd I sink to my restWith true loyal zestWhile my dreams are my cycles alone. Just wish me to be near you,And Ill be there with you. The funeral bell is pealing for one, a last farewell,And few sounds sadder than the slow peals of the loud funeral bell.Above the streets and houses it echoes to the sky,For one bound for his/her last resting place the cemetery nearby. I pray that if a batsmanLoops a ball into my lap,Ill pouch it without too much fuss,And get a well-earned clap. Ambitious new money tries hard to competeto break into the circle, become the eliteBy trying too hard, their case is rejectedThose subtle old judgements, still roundly respected. They say the answer has five lettersbut I now have had enough;I found the answer in the back apparently its GRUFF! Popular Poems for Funerals & Non-religious Readings. The rain has blocked the doorAnd Aunt Bess continues to snore;What can we do that might be fun anew? I picture you in every placeAmong the trees and waters blueAnd every time it comes to mindIm grateful I had you. Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? In life, he found his greatest joyIn this game of queens and kings,Now, as he rests beneath the soil,We remember all of his wins. Similar . If the world were full of hippiesthered be nothing left to proveexcept peace and understandingand a little bit of groove, No-one would be homelessLike many live todayWed build beautiful communeswhere anyone could stay, Together wed make musicto the beat of mother earththered be no fighting or warEveryone sharing equal worth, Wed grow our own vegetables and create trinkets to sellWed open up our mindsbreak free from our shell, Every colour and every racewould teach one anotherwed become a united familyevery sister, every brother, Wed bless all gods creaturesshow respect for the landGive free hugs to everyoneopenminded to understand. Just let me laugh with every tree,let me be barefoot and free,let every rock be overturned,let every blade of grass be learned,let the sky sleep over mewhile I am watching underneath let me weave a daisy chainto make into a bloomin wreath.Give me a flowered path to climb,I need no food, I need no bed,just let me live while Im aliveand I will rest when I am dead. While working for Birmingham 2022 Commonwealth Games, I wrote a series of quintets - something of an ode for each sport at the Games. The speedometer is just a bluras tears blow from my eyes,the bike and I roll forwardoff into the calling skies. I stand on the podium, proud and boldIm wearing a medalAn Olympic Gold! Sometimes Jacks come out to play,theyre a joyful bunch and kind.It happens they overrule the Kings,but isnt it true that love is blind? I Love Rugby. I cannot say. Time just keeps moving onMany years have come and goneBut I grow older without regretMy hopes are in what may come yet.On the farm I work each dayThis is where I wish to stayI watch the seeds each season sproutFrom the soil as the plants rise out.I study Nature and I learnTo know the earth and feel her turnI love her dearly and all the seasonsFor I have learned her secret reasons.All that will live is in the bosom of EarthShe is the loving mother of all birthBut all that lives must pass awayAnd go back again to her someday.My life too will pass from EarthBut do not grieve, I say, there will be other birthWhen my body is old and all spentAnd my soul to Heaven has went.Please compost and spread me on this plainSo my body Mother Earth can claimThat is where I wish to beThen Nature can nourish new life with me.So do not for me grieve and weepI did not leave, I only sleepI am with the soil here belowWhere I can nourish life of beauty and glow.Here I can help the falling rainGrow golden fields of ripening grainFrom here I can join the winds that blowAnd meet the softly falling snow.Here I can help the suns warming lightGrow food for birds of gliding flightI can be in the beautiful flowers of springAnd in every other lovely thing.So do not for me weep and cryI am here, I do not die. You said to look to the night skiesFor there is no other love so resoluteThat the feelings we grow for others;They are never absolute. Our fishermanWho art on riverbanksAngler be thy nameThy fishing season comesThy casting will be doneThe weather will be heavenly.Give us this day lots of bitesAnd forgive us our laughterAs we forgive you, yourLies about the one that got away.Lead us to a shoal of fishAnd deliver us a big catchFor thine is the carpThe Pike and the TroutForever and ever,Amen. Walk a while with me my friends, walk with me today,Come and see what I see, and listen to what I say,Yes I have dementia, and sometimes I get worse,Please be very grateful, that you dont have this curse,But are we all that different, the likes of you and me?We breathe the same; we feel the same, the same things we do seeThe only different my friends, I dont feel that well,When I cant remember, everything you tell,My heart beats just as quickly as yours, my blood runs just as fast,But because of my dementia, my shadow, it is cast,Its the shadow cast by others, that takes away my light,Turns my life to darkness, my pleasure to frightFor when you cast that shadow, and it comes my way,It drains me of my energy, makes me hide, or run away,Sometimes I do different things, my mind is not my own,But do YOU never talk to yourself, when you are alone?So am I all that different? You know right from wrong.You are the melody from a beautiful love song. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. So take this Cat eye, let it shineIn the dark, whereer tis foundAnd fettle not my bottom bracketAfore ye lay me in the ground. what day does pilot flying j pay; western power distribution. You know Ill try to hold youeven when my arms cant graspJust to try to bring you comfortwhen your voice lets out a gaspThe feelings that we share herewill transcend just what we seeAnd my horse will still be waitingright beneath our favourite tree. You were really one in a million,A cut above the rest.All who knew you would agree.You simply were the best. You would need to contact the club directly try reception@mcc.org.uk to start with. Love Is Like A Game Of Cards Titia Geertman A verse comparing card games to love and life. Come to the beach and remember;Make some footprints of your own,And think of days now absentAnd the memories weve known. 5. Sun will warm the daylight hours;The lighthouse illume the night.Waves provide rhythm and gulls give voice Music to ease my flight. The sails are set,the wind is east, the moorings fret.Shadows long before me lie,beneath the ever-bending sky,but islands lie behind the Sunthat I shall raise ere all is done;lands there are to west of West,where night is quiet and sleep is rest. I do not want these words to make you cry.I do not want to ever say goodbye. So heres to you, from all your fans,A legend of the game;We thank you for the memories Football will never be the same. Dont judge me for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. 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. cricket poems for funerals. Click on the title to continue reading, or browse a larger collection of funeral verses, including non-religious funeral poems and short verses. Poems for those who shared a passion for literature, or who worked in a literary setting during their life. Bury Me In Lycra! Perfect for him: right field inbaseball, an eccentrics positionthough he thought of drifting into otherfields beyond. Poems encouraging us to think positively in the face of death. Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.I have kissed young love on the lips, I have heard her song to the end.I have struck my hand like a seal in the loyal hand of a friend.I have known the peace of heaven, the comfort of work done well.I have longed for death in the darkness and risen alive out of hell. Darts David E. Navarro A short verse about the trivial nature of darts compared to much of lifes pleasures.The Eight-Foot Mark Noel E. Williamson Some advice in rhyme about the game of darts and also life.Take It Easy Noel E. Williamson Some more advice from Williamson on darts and life. Give my spare parts so some young buckMay make a start upon the roadTake the pannier of lifeAnd balance carefully his load. 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. Ive found the crust of our old earthA mighty funeral urn-Where countless forms of life had birth;Then others took their turn. Poems to read for a beloved daughter who has sadly passed away. We have a lot to be thankful for,The memories through the years.The many times together,Full of laughter, full of tears. So let us keep the warriors spiritAlive in every move we make,For it is through this art, we inheritA strength that will never shake. Any crosses, any shotsI will simply stop the lotI am always in demandThe goalie with expanding handsVolleys, blasters, scissor kicksI am safe between the sticksAll attacks I will withstandThe goalie with expanding handsFree kicks or a penaltyNo-one ever scores past meStrong and bold and safe Ill standThe goalie with expanding handsLet their strikers be immenseIm the last line of defenceAlert, on duty, all posts mannedThe goalie with expanding handsPalms as long as arms expandThumbs and fingers ready fannedYou may as well shoot in the standNot a chance! So sleep now with the angels,And your golden heart let rest.Although our hearts are broken,We know God took the best. Ive seen them win, lose and draw, rush by in charging blur, Neck and neck, nose to nose, to the photo we refer, The weight is right, the track is fair, the sun will always shine, As once more past the Judges, and I cross that Finish Line. I look at the clues That are luring me there. You can also find an index of topics at the top of this page. You are a breath of fresh air on a hot summers night.When there is darkness, you turn on the light. So as we gather here today, To say our last goodbyes, We know that they will always beIn our hearts and in our minds. And keep a song within your heart,give thanks that you can playFor the round is far too short and sweet,to let it slip away. For a second you were flyingLike you always wanted toNow youll fly foreverIn skies of azure blue. who will be next?want to face me?come on dont be shy! He arrived, not quite finished off,as his brother said one night,and, I bet Gods feeling awfully sadthat he didnt get him right.. Now it comforts us to knowyoure with the angels up above.While in our hearts we hold you closeSurrounded by our love. For years, the riverbank was whereYour soul felt most at peaceYour heart was most content when thereWith the fish and the geese. Poems for those who shared a passion for rowing, canoeing, kayaking, and other oar-based water sports. Apart from its sporting associations, this cheerful song is the audio equivalent of a ray of sunshine - perfect for celebration of life funerals. Afterglow - Helen Lowrie Marshall The fences have all been mended. The ball swung, swerved and darted, We put out every kind of seedTo watch small birds come flitter-feed.Blue JaysRobinsChickadeesFlutter in from nearby trees. Each one was pieced with tender care,With threads of love and light,A labour of love taking time and skill,For each quilt that lay in sight. This cord does its work right from the startit binds us together attached to my heartI know that its there though no one can seethe invisible cord from my child to me. If we could just slow down enoughTo consider whats true and realAnd always try to understandThe way other people feel. We ate greens, we ate biscuitsWe ate lamb chops and fresh-picked peasWe said yes dad, we said no dadWe said thank you mum and please. And to those not with us or by our side, May God be your partner on your final ride. She touched the hearts of everyone she knew.Letting her go was so hard to do.Her smile could brighten up the darkest room.I wish you didnt have to take her so soon. My little girl has gone,but to her little boy I will continue to sing our song. Crystals form almost uniformwhere many cave creatures are bornflowing walls made of stonebeautiful formations have grown. Roy Harpers When an old Cricketer leaves the crease has been mentioned. Poems for those who suffered from terminal illness in their final years. You can shed tears that she is goneOr you can smile because she has lived, You can close your eyes and pray that she will come backOr you can open your eyes and see all that she has left, Your heart can be empty because you cant see herOr you can be full of the love that you shared, You can remember her and only that she is goneOr you can cherish her memory and let it live on. I pray that my side score quick runsAnd our opponents falter,And if it comes to pass we lose,I pray the games a belter. Where on Shaftesbury Cres, the kids now play. Poems for those who made a career moulding and shaping wood, or who simply enjoyed it as a pastime. He cannot help but have death on his mind. Poems perfect for those who loved getting their fingers green and pottering about in the garden. Where the azure of the heavensMeets the undulating blue,Where the sweeping, soaring seagullFlies its endless quest for food.It is there that I would rest,When my work on earth is done,At the endless blue horizonNeath the crimson, setting sun. So, our sweetYoull never be goneCause your laughter and loveWill always shine through. I do not think my song will endWhile flowers, grass and treesAbound with birds and butterfliesFor I am one with these. I guess he wrote a lot more in a similar vein. When great trees fallin forests,small things recoil into silence,their senseseroded beyond fear. adapted from the poem by Sherry L. Williams. Card & Paper Stock Finished size is A5 (A4 folded in half) and it is printed on 350gsm silk. Heaven has received another angel,The night sky another star.Your life has become a loving memory.I know you will never be far. You are the picture I paint in my headOf beauty that only exists in thought.You are the picture I dream of in bed.Of beauty that I have forever thought. Lay lady lay, in crimson and cloverIts been a hard days night, the partys over. Poems for those who lived their life in rural areas, or simply shared a passion for rolling hills and sprawling fields. The archer and his bow:Take aim and let the arrow fly,It hits, fast as lightning A perfect bulls-eye. In life, they loved their family, With a love that knew no bounds, Their heart was filled with joy and pride, When their loved ones were around. Jack the cricket was sneaking around in the dell. We know you can still hear us, Dad,So please know that this is true:Everything we are todayIs all because of YOU.