Tolkien A wonderful verse about sailing off to the West; perfect for a Lord of the Rings fan.Crossing The Bar Alfred Lord Tennyson Another of Tennysons famous verses about mans final journey.Gone From My Sight (What Is Dying?) The laughter and loveIt always shone through. Though I may forget you,its important that you seejust how much it means to methat you remember me. Oh! Their quiet heart, a guiding light,That shone in darkness, pure and bright,A gentle voice, a calming breeze,That whispered peace, and brought us ease. My hands are clenched around chrome barsthe engines rumble sounds so sweet.I twist the throttle with my palmand roar off down the street. Haiku I wrote whilst out at some live jazz back in October, when it was warm enough for crickets. With no maps to guide us we steered our own course,Rode out the storms when the winds were gale force,Sat out the doldrums in patience and hope:Working together we learned how to cope. por | Jun 14, 2022 | considera la reazione di decomposizione del perossido di idrogeno | how to make a braided rug lay flat | Jun 14, 2022 | considera la reazione di decomposizione del perossido di idrogeno | how to make a braided rug lay flat I lie wrapped in a tapestry,Stitched with every memory,That we have shared together,Through calm and stormy weather,By each others side. Tossed to and fro in a raging tide of emotion;without you, Im just so lost and broken. by | Jun 10, 2022 | noco youth hockey | pinal county obituaries | Jun 10, 2022 | noco youth hockey | pinal county obituaries Without you, Dad, I wouldnt beThe (wo)man I am today;You built a strong foundationNo one can take away. With flags so colourful and bold,His home was a sight to behold,Friends and family cameAnd all knew his name,His love for flags never grew old. Tiny Angel, look at me,I want this image clearThat I will forget your precious faceIs my biggest fear. For the rock outwears the man,And cruel Time wears out the best,But memories were made upon those stones,Before you were laid to rest. Good Afternoon, My father has recently passed and I would like to scatter his ashes at Lords.He was a lover of attending Lords and had many happy days there. Would you volunteer to be Captain, Lord?To ensure there is fair play?For if you draw the cards, and measure,I hope to play for you someday. Finally we sit and roll a dice,Watching each roll like hungry mice,Bobby always seems to have too much loot,And we wonder if there is some hidden in a boot;Jenny just cant get a breakand will be in gaol for three rolls sake;Uncle Ron just sits with a grin, and we wonder what is his sin;Dad just tries to moderate, But Aunt Sue is truly irate!The kids all laugh, its just a gameIts family time: will we remain sane? This is the life of a dancer en pointeRisking the health of her feet, legs and jointsJust for that one perfect moment on stageWhere the ballerina stands tall and all are amazed. Eternal rocks will form my tomb,Sand my quilt shall be,Protecting from shipwreck and raging storms,And Ill become one with the sea. How lucky I was,How blessed Ive been,You were more than my Aunt,You were also my friend. The 'Cricket' Funeral Order of Service design is from the HobbiesRange, which is only available from Fitting Farewell. All verses featured on this website are free to use during any ceremony, although it is good practice to make sure the author is mentioned, if known. Your email address will not be published. The boxer stands with his gloves at the readyHis gait sure and steadyHis eyes aware and to the foreHis mind on the bout and nothing more, But deep within, and on his face writtenAre the many scars of a life hard-bittenAnd while neer shy of a hard-fought fightThere is no longer within the feeling of delight, His face has too oft been made to payBy an opponent better on the dayAnd though within beats the heart of a lionHis poor pummelled body has given up tryin, And while a fighter to his very coreJust the smell of gloves now he does abhorYet, still he stands, eyes puffed and blood galoreStill ready to wage a pugilists war. The, of Children's Picture Books: Childcraft,, s and An Ode to Cricket at Kings School and a couple of Storms What is cricket, the teatowel factor, ESPN Cricinfo, Ten, s about Cricket, Candlestick Press, Poetry Pamphlets. Kayaking Mark Gregory A poem about the peace and calm that one experiences on the water.The Oarsmans Song Steve Fairbairn A rhythmic poem about the hypnotic motion of a rower in full flight.Rowing In Eden Mark Gregory A short but touching poem about two friends drifting towards heaven. The rain has blocked the doorAnd Aunt Bess continues to snore;What can we do that might be fun anew? You left us beautiful memories,Your love is still our guideAnd though we cannot see you,You are always by our side. Candles In The Night Peter Madden A poem about light fighting against darkness.Five Candles Sherry L. Williams A poem that can be used during a candle-lighting ritual to remember the deceased.I Light A Candle For You anon A poem in free verse about the symbolism of a candle and what it can represent.I Still Burn Bright anon A short verse reminding us that the flame of our loved ones burns bright, even after death. Show all. The strings were tied, it was freshly washed, and maybe even pressed.For Grandma, it was every day to choose one when she dressed.The simple apron that it was, you would never think about.the things she used it for, that made it look worn out. Mother wore an ample apronTo cover her clean dress.Shed tell you thats what it was forIf you asked her, I would guess. They help to capture the spirit of the person lost and express the feelings of the people left behind. Poems for those who had plenty of furry and feathered friends. You tell the worn raincoat that if you talk about it,you will finally let grief out. I was just an average batsman, and a less than average fielder. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your backOr you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on. 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. Shimano SPD Cleats SH51 MTB SPD - Single Release, Fresh Goods Friday 642 Cake For Me, Corned Beef For You, Whats Open At Glentress? 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. The boys who came to watch their gods, Last Journey Timothy Coote A rhythmic poem ideal for someone who loved locomotives. We have a lot to be thankful for,The memories through the years.The many times together,Full of laughter, full of tears. 5. Three cheers for firefighters!HIP HIP HOORAY!HIP HIP HOORAY!HIP HIP HOORAY! I cannot say. I dont know how to make it through this,when all I want is to call it quits. So let us ride to help make others aware.That the roads that we ride are for all to share. If you can lend a hand, when hand is needed,And with your clubmates, you can take your turn,So, marking, clocking, checking can be speeded,And each and every job you thus will learn.If you can join the throng at payout dinner,And laugh and joke and join in all the fun,And really mean it when you clap each winner,Yet know fulwell that you have nowt to come. On a fair day by accident, afterThe bargains are all made and we can walkTogether through the shops and stalls and marketsFree in the oriental streets of thought. The referee needs no introductionOr whistle for a foul blowWhen God raises his eyebrowsNone argue with the penalty or throw. Character matters;Be your own person,Your own original self,Not someone elses version. 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. 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. They give all they have and then give more,While helping somebody get through.Its not about thanks or for mention,Its something thats in them they do. To one who bears the sweetest nameand adds a luster to the same,who shares my joy, who cheers when sad,the greatest friend Ive ever had. So go, my loveClimb that mountain in the sunsetI will watch you with a smileand eternal lovein my heart. To hunt a bird,To wet a line,Gifts from God,So good and fine. They say that times were tough thenThat money was very tightBut I remember my childhoodAnd I know that cant be right. Another Biker Who Has Gone Down Connie Starren A poem lamenting the loss of another avid biker.The Big Plan Gunnar Hassenplug A humorous poem about a bikers plan to get into heaven without an invite!A Biker Funeral anon A vivid description of a biker funeral with plenty of suitable metaphors.His Journey Goes On Joe Eliston A sombre but hopeful poem highlighting the importance of the journey of life.I Ride Alone Graeme Cook A fierce poem for a fallen motorcycling companion.My Last Ride anon A slightly religious poem about a bikers last ride to heaven.We Ride As One anon A poem lamenting the loss of riders past and present. 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. Green sod above, Lie light, lie light. Knit one, purl one, knit two togetherHer woollen creations will last forever.The sound of her needles, clickety clack,Another row on the counter, turn and go back. I suppose, one day, I will be dead and go to meet my maker,So have this note set in my hand, there for the undertaker,Dont dress me in a shroud of white or rouge my cheeks all red,It is not right, to look a fright, een though youre stone cold dead.Give me a brand new five pound note and a Visa credit card,I want to buy a proper plot in old St Peters yard,And as I sit upon my cloud and look down at the earth,Ill watch you use my worldly goods for festival and mirth,And that will make me smile a smile, and have a laugh quite hearty,To hear you say, the buggers dead, lets have ourselves a party. And now I have another child,perfect in every way;I know Ive seen that smile before,and this time, its here to stay. What is it about a Grandmother,that is such a special bond,Seeing not the years between us,but so very much beyond,For being so much older,just doesnt seem to be a case,The ages seem to melt to nought,within our own special place. He rides like an eagle, flyingAll along the stars;Its all about the journeySafe now from any harm. Musically, perhaps a bit sentimental, "When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease" by Roy Harper. Poems for those who found joy in the rhythmic motion of knitting. Followed by being beaten,piece by piece.Watching our pieces leave us;it is lonely, scary. You offered kindnessAnd greetings with a hug and kiss,Each freely out of love which I will miss. And when great souls die,after a period peace blooms,slowly and alwaysirregularly. Poems for those who either acted in films or shared a passion for movies unlike any other. I hear you whisper softly in my earTake a step forward, dont worry dearYou have my blessing, your life to enhanceKeep dancing to music of the Tea Dance.. 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. He has achieved successwho has lived well,laughed often, and loved much;who has enjoyed the trust ofpure women,the respect of intelligent men andthe love of little children;who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;who has left the world better than he found itwhether by an improved poppy,a perfect poem or a rescued soul;who has never lacked appreciation of Earths beautyor failed to express it;who has always looked for the best in others andgiven them the best he had;whose life was an inspiration;whose memory a benediction. My Old Fishing Boat by Isaac McLellan. That apron dusted tablesAnd shooed away the fliesIt did just fine as oven mittsTo take out bubbling pies. And though we wish it couldhave stayed, we feel so lucky to have seen it. One, two, three, four,Much older now, death is at my door,Five, six, seven, eight,Even I cant escape my fate. wc19 contest Brevity 30 words or less to the attached Mark Croucher painting Time f.. - Joanna Garrido, Profanity : Our optional filter replaced words with *** on this page , Today, Tomorrow, Long Ago and Years to Come. Short Cricket Quotes I'm jealous of my parents; I "ll never have a kid as cool as theirs. I want to say, that I love you,I feel an emptiness inside, I want to say, I miss youI just want to hide, I want to say, so much to youI just dont know how. Your angels share is there to be asked forOf the malt whisky escaped from oak casksYou can savour a peaty Macallan 46For a drink that will forever last. A place of work where people doAs if about to do: concentratesThe readers face, lift up the lampTo look for something in the book, and turnThe page, and then read on and lift it upAgain. Poems for those who loved exploring the darkest depths of the oceans. And so now to me, what does it all meanfor me not the fashion, or the high social scenebut the thundering hooves pounding down on the earthThe grace and the power of these kings of the turf. 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 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. So to the gamblers, the men here for businessThe track shows no mercy, their wives less forgivenessNo time for a banter, or a welcoming kissFor they come here to deal, this arena their office. Poems for those who were keen on loosing an arrow from a bow. Heaven lit up with a mighty presence,as the Angels all looked down.Today the Lord was placing the jewelsInto my mothers crown. 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. 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. SURLY was the crossword clue,I gave a sideways stare;my hubby gave a stifled coughand looked into the air. She leaps and flips and twists and splits,Her body a blur in motion,Her dedication and discipline,A beautiful emotion. 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? When We Lose a Loved One When we lose a loved one Our world just falls apart We think that we cant carry on With this broken heart Everything is different now You're upset and you're annoyed Your world it seems is shattered There's such an awful void Neville Cardus is still the gold standard for cricket-related purple prose. Bingo! 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. As you played and sharedAnd helped and taughtThe laughter and love always shone through. In our hearts there is a placeThat only you can hold;Filled with loving memoriesMore precious than gold. My memories are what I have left,and a lesson I will not forget. The water can be healing It always was for me Just take time to rememberAnd I think that you will see. If in this way you see yourself reflected,And all these things you have already done.A pigeon fancier there can be detected,And what is more, a good one, too, my son. A man who loves this land,And the beauty of its sand.I know of a springs fresh flowAnd autumns golden glow,Of a newborn calfs hesitation,And the eagles destination. Thanks And then I thought, Everythingis a miracle, even the toadthat lives under the lilac bush,even the nasty-tempered robinthat steals the food from the other birds,even the little lump of claythat I, in my clumsy way,will shape into a potto hold some wildflowers,even the windthat scatters the leaves and the seedsand the tiny pebbles, eventhe rain that falls, even the sunthat makes everything grow. I will miss youOh so much.So will allThe lives thatYou haveTouched. Rejoice now in the knowledgeReturned to you this dayYouve always had the powerTo simply fly away. see also: The Countryside, Flowers, and Gardening. Just to prove myfriendship is true to have a friend like you! 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 . You made me proud of who you areand all that you have done You often reached beyond the starsto find your goals and won. So when you talk of family lifeOr how it used to beThough many had more moneyNone were as rich as me. 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. FIRE!Adrenaline, excitement, the love of the challengeSirens wail, and it comes into sight,Flames and smoke rising into the night.All geared up, ready to save, ready to fight.Hose in hand heads straight for the danger.He kicked the door in knew just what to doThe fire and smoke pouring out He tucked his head down and dove in.They tried so hard to find him,But the fire was just too strong;We lost him in this round the fire had won.He gave his life doing what he loved, But he was way too young to die!Our gentle giant is now at peace;Now to save lives he will use wings!How to go on without him He touched so many lives But we know that only comes in time.Hes up there with his mamma now.Smiling down on us dimples and all!Too young to go we have to let go But we all miss and love him so!