So fleeting is this thing called life, we journey toward its end,experiencing pieces of a puzzle we dont truly comprehend.The hues of our emotion paint a picture of our past,as we hurtle toward a destiny that is not meant to last.Youth a canvas all in white, not knowing what awaits,feel caresses of a brush that which we know as fate.Love so very true in reds, that beat within our heart,shadows black take form as hate, which tears the soul apart.Greens of joy and happiness, lush grass beyond compare,sadness, shrouded depths of blue, the waters of despair.Yellow screams of agony and pain which we endure.Guilt and shame are shades of grey, a torrential downpour.Earthy brown desires are that for which we lust,the loss of which comes with age, like chrome begins to rust.The image changing constantly as time plods slowly on,taking shape in many forms, as the twilight replaces dawn.We look into a mirror for the answers which we seek,but we find no consolation as our eyes grow dim and weak.The final touches on a painting created with much love,as we realise that the destination is the gallery above. For that dash represents all the timeThat they spent alive on earth;And now only those who loved themKnow what that little line is worth. cricket poems for funerals But look at the family,Created by only two.How many weve become,And all because of you. A flame of great power starts within ones heart and soul and mind,That pushes every man to a breaking point so that improvement he will find,Martial arts is more than the art of combat or disarming a gun or knife,Martial arts is food for the mind body and soul, martial arts is a way of life! Knit one purl one, knit one purl oneThe band was almost doneThe soft sound of the needles clickety clackFinish one row, turn around and go back. Spaces fillwith a kind ofsoothing electric vibration.Our senses, restored, neverto be the same, whisper to us.They existed. For though from out our bourn of Time and PlaceThe flood may bear me far,I hope to see my Pilot face to faceWhen I have crossed the bar. A Bowlers Prayer anon A short, light-hearted, slightly religious verse praising the game of ten-pin bowling. If they mention a 'he' or 'she' you can always change that. They are all mostly non-religious funeral poems but can be used as part of any service whether in a church or a secular ceremony. Ninety years without slumbering(Tick, tock, tick, tock)His lifes seconds numbering(Tick, tock, tick, tock)It stopped short never to go again When the old man died. The 'Cricket' Funeral Order of Service design is from the HobbiesRange, which is only available from Fitting Farewell. The archer and his bowAlways achieve gloryThough this is the endOf their epic story. It's A Wonderful Life: Cricket and Heaven - Blogger Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,The flying cloud, the frosty light:The year is dying in the night;Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Id like to leave but daffodilsto mark my little way,To leave but tulips red and whitebehind me as I stray;Id like to pass away from earthand feel Id left behindBut roses and forget-me-notsfor all who come to find. Tip: Does it create a picture in your mind? The present only is our own,So live, love, toil with a will,Place no faith in Tomorrow,For the Clock may then be still. In our hearts there is a placeThat only you can hold;Filled with loving memoriesMore precious than gold. I will watch over you from heaven aboveForever you will be a dear and true loveHold on to your dreams and all of your wishesSending you hugs and butterfly kisses. The fourth candle we light for our love. He taught us all so much;his brother how to care,tenderness bonded the family;it grew from our despair. Without any doubt or fearmy favourite drink is surely beer,anything from pale, to brown alein fact any beer thats on sale,never halves, only pints or largerstout, bitter, smooth or golden lager,wonderful taste of malt and hopsproduced from ripe natural crops,must be drunk cold never warmdrinking good beer will do no harm,beer surely doesnt cause a beer bellydrink too much makes you very silly,you can keep your spirits and winea good pint of beer to me is just fine,beer is drunk north, south, east and westevery country thinks their beers the best. 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. The Fisher by Ruby Archer. And the white light warmed him andnurtured him andfed him great peace. Well think of all the moviesThat brought them laughter and tearsAnd though theyre gone from us nowIn our hearts, theyll always be near. Poems for petrol heads, or simply for those who enjoyed a Sunday drive. A piece of satire describing the performance of Team India in the T20 world cup 2022. The music stops,And yet it echoes onIn sweet refrains;For every joy that passes,Something beautiful remains. Ill place a stone of amethyst, He said.For all the times you spent on your knees,when you asked if Id take care of your children,and then for having faith in Me., I have a pearl for every little sacrificethat you made without them knowing.For all the times you went without,to keep them happy, healthy and growing., And last of all I have a diamond,the greatest one of all,for sharing unconditional lovewhether they were big or small., It was you love that helped them growFeeling safe and happy and proudA love so strong and pureIt could shift the darkest cloud., After the Lord placed the last jewel in,He said, Your crown is now complete,Youve earned your place in HeavenWith your children at your feet., by Lewis Haynes (slightly adapted by Mark Gregory). Go on with the day,go on with the night,enjoy the richeslife has to offer. I think about all the things Ill miss,your smile, your laugh, your kiss. For everything we do,there is a dance to get us through.For every day,we dance our life away. The city . Farewell, friends! All these visions give me hopeThat death is not the endThat an eternity awaits usThat together we will spend. Through our tears we look upwards to see [person] watching over us. So as the sun sets on my life, a life that was well-lived,I hope that those Ive left behind remember well my gift,And though I have stopped searching, one thing I know is true:My endless love for fossils will never really be through. Maailmankaikkeus. I have met him away from his own native dales,In cities and lands where strange language prevails;Yet a breath of his county he always exhales,and thus you will know hes a Yorkshireman. Without you, Dad, I wouldnt beThe (wo)man I am today;You built a strong foundationNo one can take away. Where I have goneI am not so small.My soul is as wideAs the world is tall.I have gone to answerThis call, the callOf the one who takesCare of us all.Wherever you look,You will find me there,In the heart of a rose,In the heart of a prayer.On butterflies wings,On wings of my own,To you, Im gone,But Im never alone.Im over the moonI am home. The Glentress Masterplan sets out redevelopment proposals that includes new trails, improved facilities, and some new accommodation options in the area. I am standing upon the seashore.A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.She is an object of beauty and strength.I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloudjust where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.Then someone at my side says, There, she is gone.Gone where?Gone from my sight. While most of us are fast asleepAs the moon begins its fall,And drifts its gentle lightAcross the clock upon the wall;Theres others who have left their bedsTheres hoof beats in the dawn,And out upon the training trackThe music of the morn.The frost lays thick upon the groundAnd shines upon the roofs,And all around, the lovely soundA thousand steel shod hoofs,A scraping here, a snorting thereA jockeys curse, a whinny;A trainer feeling tender legsDamn, that colts gone shinny.The flaring nostrils show soft red,A roll, hose, scrape and lead,The rug thrown on, and off back homeTo munch the morning feedAnd as they leave, some more come inWhile the sun turns red at dawnTo the clatter of a thousand hoofs,The music of the morn.So when I die I hope that ICan chat with old Saint Peter,And that dear chap would understandThat nothing could be sweeterFor me, to go where the horses runDown a track thats long and worn,To hear once more, the glorious sound;The music of the morn. 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. Cricket And Poetry: A History | All Out Cricket | Culture Special - Wisden The warm crowd faintly clapped, Im sorry, friends, that I cant be with you here today.If youre gathered reading this, it means Ive passed away.But if I were there, Id tell you not to shed a tear or frown.Id tell you just to simply say, Another Biker has gone down.. And when she passedHer earringsWere the only adornmentShe neededTo shineIn the next world. That you are herethat life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. What are Airlines Policies on carrying ashes? Just wish me to be near you,And Ill be there with you. Unique if rudyard kipling related items, Etsy. Id like to remember all those times I hit the mark,Or when, as a friend, I was a light in the dark.Id like to recall all the times Id always be there,Despite sometimes arriving with just moments to spare. Remember Me. Though the day was made for scaling,And the dusk gathers too soon,You and mellgono more a-climbingBy thelight of the moon. The memories so dear and true,those memories of me and you. Perfect for him: right field inbaseball, an eccentrics positionthough he thought of drifting into otherfields beyond. Iron horses, hundreds strong,Come thundring through the gate;Sleeping souls on notice, fallenBiker nears his fate. Wheeling through the beautiful countrysideFar from the citys commotionAlone, just me, my bike, my thoughtsThe joy of quiet motion. I am the last barman poet,I see America drinking the fabulous cocktails I make,Americans getting stinky on something I stir or shake,The Sex on the Beach, the schnapps made from peach,The Velvet Hammer, The Alabama Slammer,I make things with juice and froth,The Pink Squirrel, the 3-toed Sloth,I make drinks so sweat and snazzy,The Iced Tea, the Kamikazi,The Orgasm, the Death Spasm,The Singapore Sling,The Dingaling.America youve just been devoted to every flavor I got,But if you want to got loaded,Why dont you just order a shot?Bar is open. Poems for those who were keen on loosing an arrow from a bow. A wife, a mother, a grandmother too,This is the legacy we have from you.You taught us love and how to fight,You gave us strength, you gave us might.A stronger person would be hard to find,And in your heart, you were always kind.You fought for us all in one way or another,Not just as a wife not just as a mother.For all of us you gave your best,Now the time has come for you to rest.So go in peace, youve earned your sleep,Your love in our hearts, well eternally keep. Poems for those who lived their lives on farms and tended for cattle, crops, and land. Fishing Poems | Discover Poetry Cosmopolitan House, Old Fore Street, Sidmouth, Devon, EX10 8LS, Contact : customerservices@thefuneralpoem.com. Building A Legacy Mark Gregory A lovely little poem for a creative and passionate Lego builder.Lego House Britney Njomo I might be out of mindbut Im forever the queen of my Lego house.Ode To My Legos Dylan Harvey A poem ideal for the death of a child whose had a marvellous time with Lego. And now as we gather,To say goodbye to you,Well raise a cup of coffee,And honour all youve been through. And so I have a gift for you,My love, in the form of a roseIll hold it to my lipsAnd whisper my loving prose. Nothing can erase the painfulImprints on your mindBut there are softer memoriesThat time will let you find. A Legacy Of Stitches Sandra E. Andersen A poem highlighting what is left behind when a skilled knitter dies.Clickety Clack Robyn OConnell A poem lauding the knitted creations that the deceased made.Rows Of Stitches Ilene Bauer A short and humorous poem about the excitement of watching someone knit.Silent Needles Jacqui Alexander A lovely rhythmic poem about the creations of a knitter.With Tender Loving Care Pam Braden A touching poem about the comfort a knitted item brings. He may look at himself and have a new awareness that his body will not last forever. J.G. 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. Im climbing a mountainThe blue sky is turning to gold,The sunset so peacefulSuch beauty is there to behold. If so then this may be perfect. I am a juggler, and I juggle as I go,Flung from hand to hand, these balls of life and woe;I catch them as they fall and fling them to the sky,And catch them as they come back down, and so I juggle by. 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. Dedicated To Our Fallen Heroes Katharine Blohm A poem written for the Clearview Volunteer Fire Department.Fallen Rick Hoffman Jr. A lament to a fallen firefighter who served his community proudly.Fallen Brother anon A poem dedicated to a firefighter called Chuck that is apt for any fire man or woman.The Firefighters Last Call William Robbins A poem about the final act of a brave firefighter.A Firefighters Last Words Michael Ashby A rousing call to appreciate the lifes work of a firefighter.Heroes Gone anon A poem filled with sadness and pride from a fallen firefighter to his colleagues.To Be A Fireman Edward F. Crocker A short poem about the how being a firefighter is a noble calling. As eighteen flags flew at half mast, andGlasses were soberly raised highThe latest member was having a ballAt the golf course in the sky, Freed from the gravity of the situationThe first tee shot soared through spaceBringing a wondrous, beaming smileTo a kind, down to earth face, Surrounded by old club friendsOnce thought never to be seen againThe infinity course beckoned aheadEighteen holes were for mere mortal men. Don't know if your F-in-Law was a church go-er but a good single line quote from the great Dickie Bird is below "Nid siocled yw popeth brown." Its my special message just for youIts private and from my soulI want you to remember me,Though impossible to console, My words, my love, are meant for youAnd reaches from my heartI just dont know how to live,Now we are apart, And so I whisper to the petalsThe words I want to saySo they will be carried by the angelsFrom my heart, to you, this day, I breath and place this rose,gently upon your tomb.And feel your presence, and your love,in this very room. MORE THYME! But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. H eartbreaks hurt less when you were by my side. And when this carpenter arrived in heavenhe was expected andimmediately he was put to work:for the Pearly Gateswere a bit looseand St. Peters deskhad a couple of drawers that stuck.And before longthe old master carpenterbegan to builda new thronefor God. I wont dye my hair pink or blueMy piercings will stay as the simple twoNails cut short and hair in a bunIn ballet, this must be done. 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. Trees by Joyce Kilmer. Ive got the bowling ball blues.Now all I want is a spare.But all I get is bad news.Im always off by a hair.Come on now, roll like thunder,Drop those pins asunder:Cure my bowling ball blues. Once you have acquired the knack,Believe me, you will not look back! The audience is waitingFamiliar faces all aroundOnce again the baton strikesAnd I hear that familiar sound. Here are some suggestions for anyone wishing to choose a moving poem or verse for their loved one's funeral. Time for me to go now, I wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.In the morning sunrise when all the world is new,Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.Time for me to leave you, I wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky.In the evening sunset, when all the world is through,Just look for me and love me, and Ill be close to you.It wont be forever, the day will come and thenMy loving arms will hold you, when we meet again. I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,And the wheels kick and the winds song and the white sails shaking,And a grey mist on the seas face and a grey dawn breaking. With tearful eyes we watched him sufferAnd saw him slowly fade awayAlthough we loved him dearlyWe could not make him stay. I loved going to bingoAnd seeing all my chumsId listen out for numbersHoping they would be the ones. The Golf Course In The Sky Michael Ashby A poem imagining what golf is like once youve got to heaven.A Golfers Dream anon A lovely little poem about the deepest desires in the heart of any golfer.A Golfers Prayer William Everyman An ode to Gods green creation, and the certainty that he is a golfer!A Golfers Psalm Tony Carpentino The famous Psalm 23 rewritten with a golfing twist.Golf Tees Lament Larry Buddin When you have golf tees everywhere in your house but forget them at the course.I Really Am A Golfer Justin Time A rhythmic poem detailing the highs and lows of being a true golfer.Life Is Like A Round Of Golf Criswell Freeman A clever poem comparing life to a round of golf.Ode To Golf Allan Berman A poem highlighting the ups and downs of an amateur golfer. The race begins,as engines roar.They charge ahead,like a wild boar. Robert J. Tiess A short poem about perspective when entering the depths of the ocean.Scuba Diver Maggie Benefield A poem that describes the awe and amazement that one experiences when diving.Underwater Memory Divemaster Dennis A poem about the wonders of the sea, and the desires to always return. I hold onto memories of you And cherish them with love God took you from this world So, you could be with Him in Heaven I lost you too soon But I will never forget you. We forged our bond with love, not tears,Linking arms, we walked as one,Now is my turn to rest a while,I have reached the final stile,But you must carry on. Not having a good fielder is bad luck. 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! Dear friends I go, but do not weep;Ive lived my life, so full and deep.Throughout my life, I gave my best,I earned my keep, Ive earned my rest.I never tried to be great or grand,I tried to be a helping hand. Poems for those who shared a passion for rowing, canoeing, kayaking, and other oar-based water sports. BINGO! 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. cricket poems for funerals Stalactites hang from abovetheir beauty alone is enoughwalls covered in draperiesmillions of years of Earths memories. She says youve only left the room,You havent gone away.But I really miss you, GranddadAnd the games we used to play. You left us beautiful memories,Your love is still our guideAnd though we cannot see you,You are always by our side. Life gave you many challenges Too many to be fair I only wish in all those timesI could have been right there. I have been on the razzle-dazzleFull many a time since then;But I never could get the chemistTo brew that drink again.He says hes forgotten the notion Twas only by chance it came Hes tried me with various liquidsBut oh! Remember me as I used to be.Think of me; remember my smile,The love we shared; linger awhile.I am at peace now, I am me.At rest for all eternity. It wasnt easy watching youOf that I wont denyAnd Im not ashamed to sayThat there were times I cried. If you can leave a warm and cosy fireside,When winter winds, nigh chill you to the bone,To feed and scrape at morning, night or noontide,Yet utter not a grumble or a groan.If you can stand for hours with teeth a chatter,When parted hens decide that they will roam.And smiling, say, It doesnt really matter,I only hope that they will all come home. Popular Poems for Funerals & Non-religious Readings. Sometimes the mist overhangs my path,And blackening clouds about me cling.But, oh, I have a magic wayTo turn the gloom to cheerful dayI softly sing. But now you are gone,and with you the aromaof your favourite roast. Karate is a quiet art,Yet speaks louder than a shout.It moves with grace, a work of heart,And can turn a life around. Lyrics from google. Poems for those who enjoyed a bout in the ring, or who enjoyed taking in a big fight. Roy Harpers When an old Cricketer leaves the crease has been mentioned. Tossed to and fro in a raging tide of emotion;without you, Im just so lost and broken. Someday I will soarWhere only eagles dare to fly.My wings will span great distancesIn a clear blue azure sky.So high above this worldly placeThat Heavens doors Ill see.And angel voices will start to carry meThrough skies ringing with sweet melody.For God has promised us this dayIf His name we will revere.And I hold this promise in my heartAs I mount up with wings that shall have no fear. I loved when that engine rumbled,And the biker friends who rode with me, would help me when I stumbled.You are amongst my dearest friends, brothers and sisters of the road,Weve travelled many miles together, shared many heavy loads. And though we wish it couldhave stayed, we feel so lucky to have seen it. My mums playing Bingo in heavenWith a happy smile on her faceIf shed known there was a Bingo hall in heavenShed have looked more forward to the place!Past 78 and heavens gateIts 83 and time for teaWith 61 and a bakers bunAnd no queue for the lavatory!After 41 and time for fun,Shes won with 54 and wiped the floorI really do thank my lucky starsMy mum landed in heaven instead of on Mars!
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