I wish I could give you many more years.I wish I could erase away all of your tears. You see, there is a shadow wherethere didnt used to be,and sometimes when I look right thereit just confuses me. Ive been a daughter, mum, nan and wifeI had a ball and enjoyed my lifeIts just that when I heard the callThe call had my number on the ball.Live on now, make me proud of what youll become. 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. And now that man has left this life,No longer parted from his wifeMemories are all that we have leftOf that man who was the best. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. Drowning or Diving? But every life that ever forms,Or ever comes to be,Touches the world in some small wayFor all eternity. Heaven lit up with a mighty presence,as the Angels all looked down.Today the Lord was placing the jewelsInto my mothers crown. As you played and sharedAnd helped and taughtThe laughter and love always shone through. Her arms both glittered, her legs glistened, Her neck was a twinkle on display, She was a shiny beautiful colourful star, When she walked throughout the day. And if I dieBefore you do,Ill go to heavenAnd wait for you. My trusty pencil helps me out At crossword puzzle time. There are those who prefer the shorter throwAnd those who prefer the long,And it hardly matters from where you aimIf your darts are going wrong! One, two, three, four,This is the life that I adore,Five, six, seven, eight,To the end of the stage, and there I wait. The time you won your town the raceWe chaired you through the market-place.Man and boy stood cheering by,And home we brought you shoulder-high. Poems for those who found a love of the stage either on or off it during their life. Dont look to right or left at all,For that is how the mighty fall! We didnt eat in front of the TVOr with a phone in our handWe werent plugged into a stereobopping to the latest band. 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. Poems for those who enjoyed the challenges of rock climbing, hiking, and fell-walking. Im all the jobs rolled into one:Host, therapist, friend.I give the people what they want;Im basically a godsend. 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. Poems for those who suffered from dementia during their life. cricket poems for funerals. As Stevie Bloomer watches down. We will all miss your fashion and grace,But our memory of you will never be erased.Rest in peace, our dear lover of fashionForever will live your legacy and passion. I imagine you watchingThe many things I doProudly standing beside meAs I remember and honour you. Gods Garden D. W. McConway A slightly religious poem about God calling a tired person home.God Saw Him Getting Tired / God Saw Her Getting Tired Frances and Kathleen Coelho A poem similar to the above.I Am At Peace Jennifer Alderton A short poem urging mourners to remember a terminally ill person at their best. Fishing Poems | Discover Poetry Bury me in Lycra!So when I get to heavens gateSt. Ring out the want, the care, the sin,The faithless coldness of the times;Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymesBut ring the fuller minstrel in. Use code HELLO54 when you join us as a print or digital member and your membership will be half price for the first year. Words have that kind of poweryou remind the clothes that remain in the drawer, arms stubbornlyfolded across the chest, or slung across the backs of chairs. Couples are twirling across the dance floorAnd I wonder why I am here at allSeems a long time since you and I were hereYet it was only this same time last year. The love of field and coppice, of green and shaded lanes,Of ordered woods and gardens is running in your veins.Strong love of grey-blue distance, brown streams and soft, dim skies-I know but cannot share it, my love is otherwise. I can talk as we rollAnd I know that a soulMust lurk in thy wonderful frameA spiritual essenceSome far hidden presenceSome genius of magical fame. We will miss each other for awhile,But you will come and bring your smile.That wont be long you will see,Till were together you and me. With every breath, their quiet heart,Was steadfast, true, and pure in part,A steady beat, a gentle pace,That led us to a peaceful place. There are 2 types of captains in World Cricket. Her fingers wind the wool aroundWithout her even thinkingAnd rows and rows of stitches showWithout her even blinking. The Darkness Of The Theatre Mark Gregory A fitting poem for someone who loved watching movies at the cinema.Funeral Blues W. H. Auden The now famous poem thanks to its recital in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral.O Me! As you learned lifes messagesNo matter how hardThe laughter and love always shone through. Stump and bail flashed and flew; They dipThey soarThey dart right byWe wonder how it feels to fly. anon A poem wondering whether one has done productive or destructive deeds in life. Toggle navigation Poem Searcher Discovery Engine 7,226 categories 345276 poems 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. Alone on my tin pony,to the heavens Ive been called,but fret not my dear loved ones,Im not lonely here at all. Luther F. Beecher. The slapping of my leathersand raging winds on either side,drum a beat of sweet contentmentas I ride this, my last ride. You played the game with all your soul,Giving everything to win,You pushed yourself to the brink and backTime and time again. 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. Poems reflecting a passion for spending nights under the stars. The archer and his bowNever cease to amaze;They are togetherThroughout all days. Your life was fueled by coffee,That much we know is true.It was more than just a drink,But a way of life for you. They once built an house with an extension on the side;It was that badly built that no one could reside.He had a young apprentice who soon became his hoddie,he never let him lay the bricks because his work was always shoddy. Fly, fly little wingFly where only angels singFly away, the time is rightGo now, find the light. 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. She loved to pop out for a walk or a stroll,But illness and age in the end took its tollHer passing will leave in our lives a great hole,Shell be missed as a wonderfully generous soul. "A Meeting" by Edith Wharton. Some things we dont find easyto accept or understand.Until we realize theyre part ofour Creators perfect plan. Mother, you were just a girl, So many years ago. 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. Though the day was made for scaling,And the dusk gathers too soon,You and mellgono more a-climbingBy thelight of the moon. The other equipment needed is a solid leather wrapped ball, a bat (one per batsman.) Still, I will hold onto the memories we sharedover a cup of joe,and I will always cherishthe warmth of your loveinvigorating,comforting,and with every memoryI will feel more alive. Always dressed in the finest clothes,A true fashionista no-one could oppose.Your style was so impeccable and bold;Your passion for fashion will never grow old. A Fleeting Image Avi Fleischer A beautiful poem about life with several artistic metaphors.Go On With The Day Silvia Hartmann A poem urging those left behind to marvel at the beauty and art within life.Importance of Art Komal Jindal A poem highlighting the deceaseds artistic achievements.We Are All Painters Ola Radka A short verse arguing that everyone paints their life with beauty and emotion. Farewell, friends! Each time we see a little cloudOr a rainbow soaring highWell think of you and gentlyWipe a tear from our eye. 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.. 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. A precious angel slipped away, no one heard a cry.No time for Dad and Mommy to sing me lullabies.My time with you was much too short. A broad demographic, some salt of the earthWho with them they bring passion, character and worthThe owners, the trainers, the jockeys, the stridethe horses, the strappers, the dreams and the pride. Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;Chrome and coffee polished offAs bike and rider wake. Poems for those who found joy in the rhythmic motion of knitting. !Farewell to conventions I give up the fight.So I leave with few words but some that are true,Bridge is a game not for me but for you. But now you are gone,and with you the aromaof your favourite roast. A Poem for Mother. She is sitting in an armchair,the kind that envelops youwhen you sink into it,lost in a bookthat is taking her someplacefar from this room,someplace beyond the reachof the late afternoon sunthat is streaming through the window,beyond the reach of this houseand the row of houses next to it,beyond the streets and the townsand the fields that surround them. A mind so patient, waits for it to growAs the pattern appears, row by row.A mind so creative, can picture it completeThe stitches like soldiers, all the same, so neat. Poems for those who had a love for the beach, seashore, sand, and tides. Dont give up, though the pace seems slowYou may succeed with your next blow.Success is failure turned inside outIts the difference between faith and doubtYou may be close, though it seems so farIts hard to tell how close you areSo stick to the flight when youre hard hitIts when things seem their worst,That you must not quit. For untying the strings that held them,when they grew up and left home.I give you this one for courage.Then the Lord added a garnet stone. Goodbye, to you, with whom Ive shared,This wondrous gift of life.Enjoy the dance, lifes sweet refrain,For love is timeless as the stars,And I will dance with you again. After the night, the morning, bidding all darkness cease, Lay lady lay, in crimson and cloverIts been a hard days night, the partys over. 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.. Grampa anon A short poem about a caring, loving, and very dear grandfather.Granddad Fiona Bourke A poem letting our grandad know that we will never stop loving them.A Grumpy Old Man Tony Jennett An amusing poem discussing all the traits of a typical grumpy old man.Goodbye, Grandad Sarah Harrison A goodbye to a grandfather who gave so much to his descendants.A Poem For My Granddad Dennis Taylor A sweet poem from a grandchild to a beloved grandfather. They kept us warm on winter nights,A sense of peace and calm,They were more than just plain fabric;They were creations of her palm. Remember me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by dayYou tell me of . At Lord's: A Cricketer's farewell - Scattering Ashes enter an oceanfeeling insignificant,overwhelmed by its enormity. If theyd only see the truth, In this masquerade of youth, A parents job would be one of far less stress, But they crave the grog and smokes, Hang around with the wrong blokes, And dont ever dare advise them how to dress. cricket poems for funerals Some light up rooms with their laughterOthers brighten the world with a smile.Many will make you feel happyBy sitting nearby for a while. But take heed, becauseShes still keeping an eye on all of us,So lets make sureShe will like what she sees. anon A humorous poem about the desire to be buried in a way befitting a cyclist.O Magic Wheel N. P. Tyler A poem from 1879 with wonderful rhythm and rhyme perfect for a cyclist.Passion For Cycling Sidney Beck A poem about the sights and smells of a coast-to-coast cycle. I dont give a jot!Ive railed and Ive raved since my dotage beganIts my privilege, cos Im a grumpy old man. Dear Lovely Death - Langston Hughes. Sown in the earth by skillful handsBrought forth by sun and storm,Destined for a harvest dayFulfilled when ripe grain forms. Card & Paper Stock Finished size is A5 (A4 folded in half) and it is printed on 350gsm silk. Poems and Readings For Funerals - guardianangel.network He arrived, not quite finished off,as his brother said one night,and, I bet Gods feeling awfully sadthat he didnt get him right.. When I speak your name,It still brings music to my ears,And I can still see your smileAs if heaven is so near. Crystals form almost uniformwhere many cave creatures are bornflowing walls made of stonebeautiful formations have grown. This world of rayAnd shark, of fish and whale, of wonderful creaturesOf strange colours, shapes, and featuresLies beneath the foam and waves of the sea.Ancient reefs call to meTo come and share in their beauty,To bathe in their serenity.This deep blue world of perfectionMassages my soul, and relieves the tensionOf living on the noisy land,For here no noise disturbs the sandOr coral or walls or caves,Nor are they disturbed by wavesWhich crash around the land worlds rim.This deep blue world remains calm in dimSubdued light filtered and made gentle by the depths.I feel a part, but am only a guestIn this undersea EdenFrom which I must depart for a season,Left to remember, and to anticipate the dayWhen I may return. Poems for those who either acted in films or shared a passion for movies unlike any other. June 14, 2022; jeep renegade 4x4 usata francoforte sul meno; astrological predictions for trump 2022 . The Fisher by Ruby Archer. Poems for people from Yorkshire, or for those who loved and epitomised it during their life. crunch!, but I know you may fight back.You are so bright it makes me cry.When I finish creating different things, I may destroy you.There are so many of you, but compared to Legoland, this is small.You may be decoration but you are more to me.You are the biggest set and I am happy to see you.You are beautiful when you are together, but it makes me sad because the adventure is over. I am a double award-nominated Family and Funeral Celebrant covering the entire UK, and would be happy to help you commemorate in a meaningful and personal way. You made me proud of who you areand all that you have done You often reached beyond the starsto find your goals and won. My toes may bleedAnd my knees, grow weakBut Ill never stop dancingNot until I reach my peak. The wind whispers secrets to meAs I paddle under the open skyAnd the beauty of nature, I can seeIn the sunsets and the birds that fly. But you think I am goneYou dont see me, but I can see youWhatever the problems, I will help you get through. I lived my life beside you allCocooned within your loveSo friends and family please dont cryIm still with you; just up above. She is a gymnast, a true athlete,Her talent and grace on display,She inspires us all with strength and skill,In this, her chosen way. Abraham Lincoln. 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.
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cricket poems for funerals