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. I Love Rugby. He was teaching what it meansTo love, honor, and obey.He wanted a strong bondThat we dont see too much today. So sleep now with the angels,And your golden heart let rest.Although our hearts are broken,We know God took the best. Poems for those who loved exploring the darkest depths of the oceans. 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. Poems for those who had a passion for stars, constellations, and the great beyond. Our father kept a garden.A garden of the heartHe planted all the good things,That gave our lives their start.He turned us to the sunshine,And encouraged us to dream;Fostering and nurturing the seeds of self-esteem.And when the winds and rain came, he protected us enoughBut not too much because he knewWe would stand up strong and tough.His constant good example,Always taught us right from wrong, markers for our pathway,to last a lifetime long.We are our fathers garden,We are his legacyAnd I hope today he feels the loveReflected back from me. Minimalist Funeral Poem Ready to Print Those We Love, Celebration of Life Table Sign, Forever In Our Hearts, Funeral Poem Digital Download PeachPaperieCo (271) $5.99 The day god took you home, memory poem, shadow box frame, memorial gift keepsake, home decor, funeral poem MadewithlovebygemGB (521) $41.31 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. If I had a voice nowIt would be lovingAnd I would say thank you for all of your care.If I had a voice nowId want to tell youIm sorry for not always wanting to be there.My life, it confused you, it did so to me.But I am released now and my heart is free.The heart that was hidden beneath all the pain,It felt so much more than I could explain.And if I had a voice now,Id say out loudI love you, I wish that Id made that clear.And in my lifetimeI need you to knowThat I was much more than I did appear.These are things that Id say through choiceif I had a chance and if I had a voice. Her eyes were bright as shining starsAnd in her cheeks fair roses you see.We had a wonderful grandmother,And thats the way it will always be. The pain of losing you is as intense as our love for you. He employed an incompetent plumber who always gave him the pip, Every job he went on he always left a drip.He was a good Brickie I would say he was first class but when it came to his team, they were just total Arse! And you will see. The trials and tribulationsThe pain and stress we breatheDont exist where I am goingOnly happiness, I believe. The time is nowTo find your passion.Time waits for no one,So get into action. 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. Can you send cremation ashes in the post? A Redevelopment Update, NBD: Last Tarvo 2, Specialized Tero X, Crankbros Mallet Trail, This topic has 9 replies, 6 voices, and was last updated. Heavens gift, now heaven destinedAn arrow chosen from a quiverSelectedTransformedPoised and vibrating on the restDancing in anticipationTight and ready at full drawImpatient against the bowstringHearing distant tempos of dreams and discoverySensing, knowing the destinationSeeing the pathThen oh soStillAnd quiet in releaseA prayer off the lipsFlightFreedomA powerful arcRacingSoaringStraight and trueFrozen forever in the trajectoryAnd outstretched toward the welcomeBound for Home. Nature would speak to usOur world would become onewith peace and understandingand a little bit of fun. One, two,Ill miss you,Three, four,Thats for sure. They move through threatening ghostsFeeling them cool as mistOn their brows. The rain has blocked the doorAnd Aunt Bess continues to snore;What can we do that might be fun anew? 65 p Addeddate 2007-05-31 17:58:40 Bookplateleaf 4 Call number SRLF:LAGE-3653666 Camera 5D 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. A year feeling so lonely and blueSince the unspeakable day I lost youIm here because friends said I must tryLetting go and waving the tears goodbye. Wtf Fun Facts. Only to change. Slumber sweetly little oneUpon your dusty bed.The earth be both your blanketAnd pillow for your head. Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;One more rider, Heaven bound,Roars through the Pearly Gates. 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. The board is your target, not the mat,So, be careful what youre aiming at! 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. I farmed the land,I tramped the wood,These are the thingsI understood. I chose a twinkling star in the sky at night ,To say a prayer for you to its bright light.Youre in Gods Heavens now and no longer in pain,In my thoughts, youll always remain. Her knitting needles are now silentNot a sound more will they makeBut what a wonderful lesson [name] has left usTo give always more than you take. originally titled What Is Dying? by Rev. The place where we share our secrets,and it always just makes sense,Where my soul can be wide open,true and free without defence,Split by a generation,simply makes us both so nearer,To words so true from both,whether youre the speaker or the hearer. by | Jun 10, 2022 | noco youth hockey | pinal county obituaries | Jun 10, 2022 | noco youth hockey | pinal county obituaries The other bingo players follow you with their eyes,As you happily claim that winning prize,Just the thought of bingo and the chance to win,Makes you smile one great big bingo grin! Few things are as fleetingAs footprints in the sand;Sometimes we walk aloneAnd sometimes hand in hand. You can also find an index of topics at the top of this page. Hauskat Meemit. 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? But oh! Just wish me to be near you,And Ill be there with you. Poems reflecting upon the importance of the memories we have of others. Some things we dont find easyto accept or understand.Until we realize theyre part ofour Creators perfect plan. The magical sound of leather on willowThe sweet smell of freshly cut grassThecricketer crossing the last boundaryTo a third innings that would forever last. Be and bebetter. They are not in any particular order or category as every person interprets a poem in their own way. The place was very quiet,But not too quiet. 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. Whats with this ballThat they could kick so high?It meant the worldTo you and them, so why? O my goodness, whatever do I seeIs that a man coming over to meI feel a blush come from neck to my faceAnd my poor heart is beginning to race. For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all;The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks:The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks. I pray the wickets well-prepared,And that it doesnt stick,That all my shots find gaps And that the outfields fairly quick. 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. E ven in my darkest hours, you were always there for me. Where the Oriole swellsHis throat as he tellsOf his flight through ethereal spaceAnd his music flowsWhile the earths reposeIs deeper because of his grace. It took you as my mother,A girl you did become.Searching for the answersAnd looking for your mum. Have you checked the smoke detectors? the Scrabble Kinghas arrived once moreto pound awayat the competition. One, Two, Three, Four Mark Gregory A poem ideal for the death of a former model and fashion designer.A Photo anon An intimate poem about the feelings that arise upon seeing a beautiful photo of a person. We have sought, but we sought it vainly,That one last drink divine;We have sampled his various bottles,But somehow they dont combine:Yet I know when I cross the riverAnd stand on the Golden ShoreI shall meet with an angel chemist Wholl brew me that drink once more. How did you do it all, Mum,Be a chauffeur, cook and friend,Yet find time to be a playmate?I just cant comprehend. 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. And Rest Rev. - Navjot Sidhu 5 1 Add a comment The third umpires should be changed as often as nappies and for the same reason. Ive seen her use that apronTo wipe her dripping browAs she laboured over the big rangeThats just an antique now. I cant stand the hassle, I cant stand the painIm getting those bad cards again and again.So Im giving up bridge Tonights a bad night.Declarer is horrid and nothings going right. 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. God looked around his gardenAnd found an empty place,He then looked down upon the earthAnd saw your tired face. The Bowlers Prayer anon A prayer asking for help from God to ensure the bowled ball lands near the Jack.A Crown Green Bowlers Prayer P. Helliwell A verse imploring the Lord to ensure there are games of bowls in heaven.My Last End Graeme Cook A lovely, short poem inspired by memorable games upon that velvet turf.Unbiased Bowls J.J. Hasson A light-hearted poem discussing the bias of bowls and perhaps also of life. Ill never get to see your precious face;or whisper words to make you feel safeIll never get to hold you tightwhen you cant sleep at nightIll never get to sing to you a sweet lullaby,to calm you down when you cryIll never get to fall asleep with you in my arms,all bundled in a blanket to keep you warmIll never get to hear you laugh and giggleor see you little toes wiggleThere are many things I will never get to do,but the hardest is not being with you. I hope youre dancing in the skyAnd I hope youre singing in the angels choirAnd I hope the angels know what they haveIll bet its so nice up in heaven since you arrivedI hope you are dancing in the sky. A ball point pen just wouldnt do That really is the case For I would be at quite a loss If I could not erase! I gathered petals in my hand,I felt their velvet, soft and blandI saw the soft colours in my palmLooking not unlike some lucky charmI raised them to my lipsAnd whispered words for you aloneThen placed the petals upon your bed,And stood alone, this moment of dread,I turned and walked awayMy words, my love, are with you I pray. 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. There is a momentIn musical rehearsalWhen all the playersThe choirThe woodwind and brassThe strings and percussionThe entire orchestraStopsAnd there is peace, The conductor says two wordsAnd restVoices cease to singThe woodwind put down oboes and clarinetsThe brass lay down trumpets and trombonesOthers do the sameBecause the music is overThere is no audienceThere is no applauseIn that momentQuietness reignsYet the quiet that followsRemains harmonious, There is a certain silenceA spaceFor reflection and reposeThe music is rememberedAnd so we contemplateThe highsThe lowsThe passage of melodySometimes we feel sadBecause the chordsHave drifted awayFinishedCompleted, Some will feel lossOthers experience reliefAnd others deep sadness, TogetherWe shareThat moment of closureWhen the conductorSaysAnd rest., The musical notes stood in linesDiscordant in their griefBefore regaining their composureAs black tears in embossed relief. When I was born that man was there,Tall and strong and fair of hair.He watched my mother give me birth,As I fought my way onto this Earth. I was here, I used it all,and now I am at peace. When great trees fallin forests,small things recoil into silence,their senseseroded beyond fear. The 'Cricket' Funeral Order of Service design is from the HobbiesRange, which is only available from Fitting Farewell. Let us faith and hope receiveThe rose still grows beyond the wall,Scattering fragrance far and wideJust as it did in days of yore,Just as it did on the other side,Just as it will forever-more. I seek the West,and fields and mountains ever blest. For they existed. 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. Amazed, I watch the tiny gymnasts all,While praying, as they flip, that none will fall. When your own words fail you, a poem can serve as a perfect funeral reading or eulogy. Remember how we made our special dateSame day of the week and at the same placeBehaving like young teenagers we wereTho wed been married many a year. Always Been A Reader Mark Gregory A poem about the qualities of books and how they will endure after death.The Last Book Mark Gregory A poem about the miracle of life and being a part of it, even just for a while.The Library Mark Gregory A lovely poem about the magic of libraries, perfect for someone who worked in them.Roads Go Ever On J. R. R. Tolkien The classic from Tolkiens Lord of the Rings, perfect for a book-lover.Sitting In An Armchair Mark Gregory A book about a female reader in a chair being transported off to another land.There Is No Frigate Like A Book Emily Dickinson A short poem about how books carry us away to lands unknown. I cant improve you life, thats true,But I am always there to care for you.Years ago you became my wife,Since then you have become my life. I can still hear you calling my name,then reality sets in and Im reminded my life will never be the same. The stars glisten in the night skyShining like diamonds;The fire burns a hot blazing redWarming even the coldest of nights.Fireflies lighting the dark skyLike lanterns drifting in the night;The ooey gooey mallowsChocolate melting in your mouth.Belting campfire songsSerenading the animals into a blissful sleep;Reciting spooky stories of things that lurk in the darkKnowing no one will sleep tonight.The simplicity and beauty of the night;Making memories that last forever. Board Games Lou Szymkow An atmospheric poem detailing the memories we all have of family board gaming days.A Game Of Life Frank Preston Stearns A old-fashioned yet moving sonnet comparing chess to life. For a deeply private man it was a brief and intensely private funeral. If I could be there with you, wed laugh and share memories from our past,And this gathering would be just one more tale, another story, not our last.But today I cant be with you, except in heart and memory stores.So, youll have to laugh, remember the past,and then let your engines roar! Teasing, rolling, need a little clip.Hairspray, blow dry, one more snip.Color, rinse, perm after perm.For a hairdresser, work-a-holic is our term. Whenever Im upset I know yourethere with a shoulder to cry on.Whenever I face a problem and need some helpI know you are one I can rely on. Hum a song to me as I lean over into the bend and the bike leans with me. Time passed, that man grew old and frail,No longer strong, but weak and pale.Now I helped him, as hed helped meA debt to repay, no charge, no fee. The fire tone rang. It is not the only placeWhere people do this, but it is the best.I used to like to come and see themWhen I was young, and that was how I knewThat when they looked so hard and longThey found what they were looking for.I think they did. The Trout Brook by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts. Today, the road all runners come,Shoulder-high we bring you home,And set you at your threshold down,Townsman of a stiller town. He tends the flowers with loving care,And prunes the branches here and there;He weeds the beds and mends the fences,And gathers up the fallen senses. And to those not with us or by our side, May God be your partner on your final ride. The scent of the roast,The hiss of the brew,The warmth of the cup,It all reminds us of you. We light these five candles in honour of our loved ones: One for our grief, one for our courage, one for our memories, one for our love, and one for our hope. That taketh all things under wing. Go after your dreams.Be bold. 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 yet the cares are manyand the hours of toil are few;There is not time enough on earthfor all Id like to do;But, having lived and having toiled,Id like the world to findSome little touch of beautythat my soul had left behind. A 93rd minute winner ensures the days before the next game are filled with hope, a thumping defeat fills hearts with despair. The referee needs no introductionOr whistle for a foul blowWhen God raises his eyebrowsNone argue with the penalty or throw. Its all these thingsand so much more,so dont stress.If you lived your lifeWild-n-free,Then its been a success. The morning mist had lifted,And the sun was shining bright.I poured myself a cup of tea,And sat and watched the light. But all the feelings that are nowSo vivid and so realCant hold their fresh intensityAs time begins to heal. Dont look to right or left at all,For that is how the mighty fall! The audience is waitingFamiliar faces all aroundOnce again the baton strikesAnd I hear that familiar sound. And bayberry, that through sweet bevies thread. Jack the cricket was sneaking around in the dell. 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. If I helped in a team, if I helped on my own,it was more than repaid by good family and friends I have known;and if I went the extra mile,I did it with pleasure it was all worthwhile. The Brightest Cave anon A poem from a male to his lover, describing her as the brightest thing Id ever seen.Cave of Wonders Nikki Pruitt A wonderful poem about a trip underground in the caverns so deep.Cave Song Neveah Bradford A short, mournful poem about the cave saying goodbye to its explorers. Lord I am pleased to see my Wednesday night friends;We gather in your playroom for a friendly game.Give me the strength to endure the smokers;Let the caller call at a pace that is just right.Dont rush those with manyOr let those with few fall asleep waiting,And may the caller call what I need;If not, may someone in the little group around meLeave tonight with more than they began with. It broke our hearts to lose you,You did not go alone,For part of us went with you,the day God called you home. Those who live long endure sadness and tearsBut youll never suffer the sorrowing yearsNo betrayal, no anger, no hatred, no fearsJust love only love in your lifetime. That you are herethat life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. 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. O you are not lying in the wet clay,For it is harvest evening now and weAre piling up the ricks against the moonlightAnd you smile up at us eternally. Though I may forget you,its important that you seejust how much it means to methat you remember me. Grandmas Apron Tina Trivett A lovely, reflective piece about the many things a grandmothers apron has seen.MORE THYME! Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders,If its only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden,You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden. give me the flavourof butterscotch and vanillawith a little chocolateplease and thank you. It's quite funny too. The third candle we light in your memory: the times we laughed, the times we cried,the times we were angry towards each other, the silly things you did, and the caring and joy you gave us. 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. Poems about trains, perfect for those who loved everything locomotive. Dance with the wavesMove with the seaLet the rhythm of the waterSet your soul free. 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! Poems for those who enjoyed track and field, and the opportunities it provided them in life. 11 min read. She may have used it to hold some wildflowers that shed found.Or to hide a crying childs face when a stranger came around.Imagine all the little tears that were wiped with just that cloth.Or it became a potholder to serve some chicken broth. I juggle through the years, and watch them come and go,With all their hopes and fears, their joys and tears 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 last time he cut his mothers hairthe rude morning sunleft no corner of her kitchen private,the light surgically cleanwhere it fell on his scissors.Her hair fell in a blonde circleon the lake blue tilesmell of coffeeand cinnamon; her laughingshook her head, Hold still, he said,his hands surfeit with the curland softness of her hair. Their love for film was boundlessAnd theyd watch them one by oneFrom the classics to the newest hitsTheir passion was second to none. 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. My joy increased, I felt you growas weeks went quickly by Then one blessed day, I felt you moveA tiny butterfly. But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cagecan seldom see throughhis bars of ragehis wings are clipped andhis feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing. Their greatest nemesis and saviour,are known simply as brakes.In order to pass,they wait for mistakes. The first rose represents our grief.The pain of losing you is intense.It reminds us of the depth of our love for you. I do not think my song will endWhile flowers, grass and treesAbound with birds and butterfliesFor I am one with these. Poems for those who grew up in the age of flower power and truly embraced it. The topic Cricket themed reading for Dads funeral is closed to new replies. You know right from wrong.You are the melody from a beautiful love song. Our revels now are ended. Then all I want is the magic puff,And the straight and powerful driveTo complete the course,Using skill and forceIn a brilliant 65! (For darts is not a game of chance!). H eartbreaks hurt less when you were by my side. 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.