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When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. The best description of a cricket match in my opinion is in England, Their England, written by A G McDonnell. As the engines start up, and our rumble grows loud.We ride for our brethren who can no longer be found.The sunglasses we wear are to cover our tears.Remembering those who ride that weve held so dear. Is it free like they say?Does the sunshine bright forever?Have your fears and your pain gone away?Cause here on earth it feels likeEverything good is missing since you leftAnd here on earth everythings differentTheres an emptiness. Deeper down I goso unknown steps belowexploring further than anyones beenthere seems to be no end. We know you can still hear us, Dad,So please know that this is true:Everything we are todayIs all because of YOU. Therell be many destinationsSome are happy, some are sadEach one a brief reminderOf the great times that weve had. At PoemSearcher.com find thousands of poems categorized into thousands of categories. Ill give the angelsBack their wingsAnd risk the lossOf everything. Poems reflecting a passion and love for birds, bird-watching, and anything remotely aviary in nature. My father-in-law was cricket barmy. Oh life! It may not display this or other websites correctly. Go after your dreams.Be bold. Im all the jobs rolled into one:Host, therapist, friend.I give the people what they want;Im basically a godsend. Based on real world data - you can't go wrong with these poems. The time is nowTo find your passion.Time waits for no one,So get into action. We didnt eat in front of the TVOr with a phone in our handWe werent plugged into a stereobopping to the latest band. You were a blessing to us allyou were a special child.And were so glad God sent youto be with us awhile. Rest now my fallen brotherLay soft your suffering backRest well and foreverYour memory shall not lackRest your tired handsWipe clean your weary browRest with St. FlorianYour spirit now endowedRest here your breaking heartWe know you gave your allRest easy, youve done your partYouve answered your last callRest knowing that in god we soughtOh lord, watch over another who just fellRest assured your troubled thoughtAs we ring the final bell. Here are some suggestions for anyone wishing to choose a moving poem or verse for their loved one's funeral. Friend and kin,I loved them so;Although Im gone,Im sure they know. I know of the good and the bad,The happy and the sad.I am a man of emotions. It's quite funny too. To succeed. The ancients etched the wordsfor battle and victory onto their shields and then they went out. Its everything you sacrificedand choices you made.Its all the problems that you solved,your lessons from mistakes. But we cant complain, it is only a game.Right? Ive seen fire and Ive seen rainIve been through a desert on a horse with no name, Ive gone to Kansas City, I sang in the sunshineIve been on the road again, with Georgia on my mind, Like a rolling stone, Ive given peace a chanceIve put a camel to bed and danced the last dance, Mr Tambourine Man played a song for meIve whispered words of wisdom, let it be, Ive fallen into a burning ring of fire and walked the lineTo all the girls Ive loved before, you were always on my mind, Ive been everywhere, Ive been so lonesome I could cryIve driven my Chevy to the levee when the levee was dry, Ive been to Itchy Coo Park in a yellow submarineIve made the scene in a time machine, Ive done the Hokey Pokey and turned myself aroundIve welcomed baby back to the poor side of town, Ive followed the tracks of my tears down a long and winding roadIve kept on searching for a heart of gold, Ive sought shelter from the storm, Ive sat on the dock of the bayIve rocked around the clock, on a sunshiny day, Ive knocked on Heavens door, while blowing in the windJoy to the world those were the days my friend. I cannot speak, but I can listen. 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. Poems for those who had a passion for wearing jewellery, or dedicated a lifetime to crafting it themselves. Joyce Kilmer wrote lots of poems about nature. So I praise this car and its wobbly ride And Im gosh darn grateful that Im still inside. He wanted someone to hold usAnd show respect for others.He wanted someone whod be gentle,So he created mothers. Poems for those who had a passion for karate, judo, kung fu, jiu jitsu, and other forms of martial arts. Like every other Yorkshire boy I dreamt of days of skill and joy Bashing centuries for the county White rose cap sufficient bounty Famous for setting new records And stuffing Middlesex at Lords. That man was made of many partsA teacher of lifes skills and artsFull of love and full of careWith much to give, and much to share. Did you know when you posed for that photoThat it would represent my sincerest dreams?Did you know, posing, letting yourself goThat you would represent all of loves themes? I cant say goodbye.I cant acceptYour death.You will live in my heartForeverUntil my last breath. Oh me! I am a martial artist. The Rape Of The Lock And Other, s By Pope Tingling Catch: Noeline Gannaway's NZ cricket. 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. Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of Chatham. As the flag is lowered to half mast,We mourn the loss of one who has passed.A lover of flags, they stood so proud,A symbol of freedom, they did avow. 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. Add languages. The memories so dear and true,those memories of me and you. The photograph above was unearthed from the countless images to be found on the web. He loved to pop out for a walk or a stroll,But illness and age in the end took its tollHis passing will leave in our lives a great hole,Hell be missed as a wonderfully generous soul. 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. Nothing can erase the painfulImprints on your mindBut there are softer memoriesThat time will let you find. Do not standatmy grave and weep,I am not there, I do not sleep.I amathousand winds that blow;I am the diamond glintson thesnow.I am the sunlight on ripened grain;I am the gentleautumnsrain.Whenyouawaken in themornings hush,I am the swiftupliftingrushOf quiet birds incircledflight.I am thesoft star that shines atnight.Do not standatmy grave and cry.I am not there; I did not die. Damn, what a show, we cry:The boys stamp, and the girlsShriek, and the drum boomsAnd all come down, and he bows and says good-bye. Last Journey Timothy Coote A rhythmic poem ideal for someone who loved locomotives. To the pearly gates of Heaven, where they will usher you in. Stand upon the mountainRaise your wings up highCast aside the chains of fearTrust and you will fly. And Lord I pray that tonight or sometime real soon,I get to raise my voice in praise Praise that you deserve When I get to shout out BINGO! Some of the verses have been written by me; others have been used in my ceremonies; yet more are simply verses that I like, and believe can be useful in certain scenarios. A Redevelopment Update, NBD: Last Tarvo 2, Specialized Tero X, Crankbros Mallet Trail, This topic has 9 replies, 6 voices, and was last updated. The tide recedes,But leaves behindBright seashells on the sand. I know well they powerIn each trying hourThou servant so faithful and trueWhen the swift rushing windIs left muttering behindAs thou sippest the sweet morning dew. Poems for those who really enjoyed a cup of tea and the inner peace and warmth that it brought with it. All The Worlds A Stage William Shakespeare A verse which summarises the whole span of human life in a few lines.The Last Call Michael Ashby A short verse originally dedicated to Richard Briers.Our Revels Now Are Ended William Shakespeare An extract from The Tempest by one of the greats. Her pitiless blue sky,When, sick at heart, around us we see the cattle die But then the grey clouds gather, and we can bless againThe drumming of an army, the steady soaking rain. There were a couple of muckers who mixed up the cement,they were forever subbing so they never paid their rent. The feet of dancersShine with mirth,Their hearts are vibrant as bells: The air flows by themDivided like waterCut by a gleaming ship. Nature would speak to usOur world would become onewith peace and understandingand a little bit of fun. Wine comes in at the mouthAnd love comes in at the eye;Thats all we shall know for truthBefore we grow old and die.I lift the glass to my mouth,I look at you, and I sigh. Some travel afar, others stay nearbySome pedal fast, some slowBut in common with the lot of usIs the desire to just go. When you were a boy I dreamedOf the man you would become;But life had other plans for youWith challenges more than one. One, two,Ill miss you,Three, four,Thats for sure. The peewees in the town park are distinctive in their call,And the magpie on a wattle pipe on this cool morning in the Fall,And for one who will not breathe again, the eulogy is read,And the funeral bell is tolling, in memory of the dead. Repshire: FW Harvey, Cricket, and Nostalgia. Love Is Like A Game Of Cards Titia Geertman A verse comparing card games to love and life. This fourth rose is for our love.We enjoy beauty and its presence,Continuing to guide and lead us.Regardless of the seasons of our lives,Our love for you will continue. Aroma of Yorks chocolate ten miles away, bread-baking and brewing downwind of Carlislemake me ready for dinner. March Madness is the great excitement right now (apart from American Idol), and there is a strange assumption that this madness is internationalthat the world is somehow involved with this madness. When a butterfly come to you, Ive been told,That its from someone in heaven, a past soul.If you keep a look out, if you open your heart,The things that were ordinary will now stand apart.I think if we look, read between the lines,You will find clues and you will find signs,That your loved one isnt past, not really, not gone,That they are not here, that they have just moved on.It is said that there is not death, just life and transitions,From the teachings of Buddha to the beliefs of the Christians.So from my heart, from my hope and belief,May you find many butterflies to assist with your grief. And so, when we remember,Well think of all the rest.Well concentrate on earlier,And remember all the best. I will not cast the first stoneI have none in my handEven though your life at timesWas not how I had planned. In Hide and Seek, he let the othersstay hidden, content to enjoythe solitude. And though they may be gone now, Their love will always stay, A beacon shining bright and true, To guide us on our way. We put out every kind of seedTo watch small birds come flitter-feed.Blue JaysRobinsChickadeesFlutter in from nearby trees. And when he died at just years,his brother comforted me,with, I expect God wants to put him right,but we missed him dreadfully. Walk a little slower Daddy,said a child so small.Im following in your footstepsand I dont want to fall. Years were not easy, many downright hard, but your faith in God transcended,Put away your tools and sleep in peace. 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. 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. Bury Me In Lycra! Heaven by Rupert Brooke. 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. Ill always be your mother,Hell always be your dad.You will always be our child,The child that we had. The music stops,And yet it echoes onIn sweet refrains;For every joy that passes,Something beautiful remains. He cannot help but be aware that such is the end of all life. So when you talk of family lifeOr how it used to beThough many had more moneyNone were as rich as me. Coast to coast across England in one day;A hundred miles in one trip. I do not despair If a few I cant solve But begin on the down clues With extra resolve. You loved the game, with all your heart,You chased the ball with might,You ran and kicked and passed and shot,With skill and speed and fight. Children that I leave behind,And their children, all were kind;Near to them and to my wife,I was happy all my life. Core of my heart, my country! She wore from ears, from nose, from lips, The ones that are on show, And she wore a heap in other places, But there I will not go. 65 p Addeddate 2007-05-31 17:58:40 Bookplateleaf 4 Call number SRLF:LAGE-3653666 Camera 5D Farewell My Friend Judy Marriott A poem written for a friend who was by the authors side for many years.Friend Poem anon A poem about always being there for those you love.Goodbye My Friend Karla Bonoff A sorrowful goodbye to a friend who was with us through all of lifes moments.My Wish For You Debra Chesnoff A poem originally written for a good friend diagnosed with a terminal disease.A Real Friend anon A verse comparing a simple friend to a true friend. Id like to encourage you all to remember my game,And maybe keep my photo or my top score in a frame.And when your own ball reaches the end of the lane,Id like to hope Id see you in the afterlife again. But you can find many more. Unknown Life is simply a cricket match, with temptation as the bowler. 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. Its all these thingsand so much more,so dont stress.If you lived your lifeWild-n-free,Then its been a success. We pushed them and we shoved them, Tolerated, and loved them, Glad we had them, at times we dont know why, Pray they do stay out of strife, Make the best of their sweet life, Cant bear the thought that one day they may die. The bodys anatomy and physiology, the minds psychology must be knownBy a fighter in order for the perfect execution of a technique to be shownMartial arts is a pursue of knowledge, many things that one must learn,So the hidden swirling potential within gets drawn out to burn. The 'Cricket' Funeral Order of Service design is from the HobbiesRange, which is only available from Fitting Farewell. R est in peace and know I will miss you every day. SURLY was the crossword clue,I gave a sideways stare;my hubby gave a stifled coughand looked into the air. Where words fail,music speaks.It speaks of the pain,of the sorrow,of the lost,of the life we live.It shares emotions.Its a way to connect,to understandwhat others feel.Where words fail,music speaks.It tells the truthwhether you want it to or not.Music shares the soulsof those were around,of those in the worldthat were living.I wish to sharemy music with youSo you can understandthe pain I feel,so I can share my soul with you,so you can understandWhat Im going through. And sometimes glanced at the play, I dont know where wed be today,If it werent for the two of you.To show us strength, support, and love,Like only the two of you can do. Ive got the bowling ball blues.I gotta mark one more time.I cannot let my team lose.I finally found a good line.Come on now, roll like thunder,Drop those pins asunder:Cure my bowling ball blues. She puts it to her lips with ease,just hurting deep inside.Tried to hide the pain away,to get that one last high.She sees the lights over head,one by one they pass,going down an empty hall,theyre trying to save her fast.She hears them say, oh no, weve failed,weve lost another one.This addiction took another soul,it started out with fun.Now her friends and family sit above her flower covered grave.She floats above and cries to herself,all I did was crave.Now theres a hand reaching for me.Its time to say goodbye.This disease just got one more.Promise me, dont cry. And to those not with us or by our side, May God be your partner on your final ride. For everything we do,there is a dance to get us through.For every day,we dance our life away. The willowy sway of the hands awayAnd the water boiling aft,The elastic spring, the steely flingThat drives the flying craft. Poems for those who had a passion for stars, constellations, and the great beyond. The empty spots beckon; They yearn to be filled And if Im successful Im quietly thrilled. A football team is only as good as its last game; the mood of supporters rises and falls with each result. But take heed, becauseShes still keeping an eye on all of us,So lets make sureShe will like what she sees. Poems for watchmakers, clock collectors, or anyone who had a passion for timekeeping. Broken beyond repair? 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. To shake our gravity up. Also the late, great Peter Tinniswood wrote a fantastic pair of books called "tales from the long room" and "more tales from the long room". A free bird leapson the back of the windand floats downstreamtill the current endsand dips his wingin the orange sun raysand dares to claim the sky. 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! Look for the brightest colours,sun sparkling on the lake, the sea,or turning rain dropsinto daily diamonds. Well think of all the moviesThat brought them laughter and tearsAnd though theyre gone from us nowIn our hearts, theyll always be near. The most popular funeral poems include: "Crossing the Bar" by Alfred Lord Tennyson. 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. 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. The fifth candle we light for hope: that you will live on through us, never be erased from our memory, that your life continues to make a difference in the world. 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. Poems for those who enjoyed the art of bell ringing, or who simply enjoyed the sound of church bells. Hello there, Granddad.Its me, your little man,I couldnt find you yesterday,When I came to visit Nan. I will go forward with my head up high.It might be hard, I cannot lie. Michael Ashby A fun, slightly religious poem with plenty of bingo terminology within.Numbers Up Rebecca Spilsbury A wonderfully moving poem urging the bereaved to live on proudly.Prayer For Bingo Players Bob Barci A fun prayer asking for the perfect conditions for a bingo night.Twenty-Four Numbers anon A poem about the joys of bingo. Excludes Gift Memberships, Discount applies to first year. Poems perfect for amateur and professional sailors, or simply someone who loved all things boat. Over'? Poems for those who had a passion for music during their life, whether as a DJ, singer, or simply music-lover. As I grew older so did he,But that man was always there for meHis love, unspoken, but strong and clear,Of that, I have no doubt or fear. Theres a comedy book, Penguins Stop Play. So rude, mocking and defiant, And on you, still so reliant, You are there to fulfil their every need, Were so proud of their successes, And forgive their many messes, The writings on the wall but they wont read. Keep the men happy and the girls nice,Let everybody be merry and have a good night.Keep the hookers out and the troublemakers at home,Leave the anger and misgivings at the door. The silence hung suspended:It was the last bowl of the day,And everything dependedOn our skipper yet to play.He gazed upon the verdant green His eyes were focused tightOn a sphere that could just be seen:The Kitty shining white. Below are the all-time best Rugby poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. 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. 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. Capitulation anon A poem about the highs and lows of bridge, and always being on the verge of quitting.The Gambler Kenny Rogers The lyrics to Rogers infamous song about the train ride with the gambler.A Keen Bridge Player Simon Lucas A humorous limerick about forgetting to remove the jokers! In my kayak I find peaceOn the water, all is calmThe rhythm of the paddles releaseAll the stress and all the qualms. We dance and we dance,each day through.Everyday to a different tune,just to get us through. His conscience on one hand the white man guide,Desire with equal skill the black direct;An angel and a demon on each sideSurvey the game for its result elect. Mighty proud! We miss him in his gardenDoing odd jobs here and there.We miss him at the tableWhen we see the empty chair.We miss him at the firesidewhen we gather round the blaze.We miss him, oh, we miss himIn a hundred different ways.When troubles came the familyWould always turn to him.He always had a cheery wordWhen things were looking grimAnd now hes gone we know he wouldntWant us to be sad But life can never be the sameWithout the Dear Old Dad. And when she passedHer earringsWere the only adornmentShe neededTo shineIn the next world.