Be and bebetter. How lucky I was,How blessed Ive been,You were more than my Aunt,You were also my friend. Ineffective? And so, when we remember,Well think of all the rest.Well concentrate on earlier,And remember all the best. To shake our gravity up. Might be some themed words in that that could be used? The Dash Linda Ellis A verse pondering on making the most of the years between birth and death.If Rudyard Kipling Kiplings famous poem about what it means to be a man.A Life Well Lived anon A poem for someone who lived life to its fullest.Man In The Mirror Dale Wimbrow A reflective piece suggesting the most important opinion of you is your own.A Song Of Living Amelia Josephine Burr A verse which suggests loving life and living it fully leads to no regrets.Success Bessie Anderson Stanley A reflection upon what it means to be successful in life.Successful Life Eugene Grinman A poem pondering over what it means to have lived a successful life.The Time Is Now Bettina Van Vaerenbergh A poem encouraging us all to live well, and live in the now.When Great Trees Fall Maya Angelou A poem in free verse about how we feel when great people die. 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. The Sadness Of Clothes Emily Fragos A poem about the sad things clothes might feel when their owner dies.A True Fashionista Mark Gregory A short poem highlighting how the deceaseds beauty will live on after death. Love is like a game of cards,you win, you pass, you lose.Life is like a poker game,depends which bluff you choose. 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. They who danceFind infinite golden floorsBeneath their feet. Footprints Robert Longley A beautiful verse about the importance of memories.Pemaquid Point Mary Oliver-Rotman A versatile pome about scattering ones ashes at a favourite beach destination.The Sight Of The Ocean anon A short, touching poem about the final moments spent on the beach by the sea.The Tide Recedes M. D. Hughes A short poem about the ebb and flow of life and tides, and what they leave behind. So long as love and hope and dreamsAbide in earth and sky,Weep not for me, though I be gone.I shall not really die. Give my spare parts so some young buckMay make a start upon the roadTake the pannier of lifeAnd balance carefully his load. I have not lost the magic of long days,I live them, dream them stillStill I am a master of the starry ways,And freeman of the hills;Shattered my glass, ere half the sands had run.I hold the heights, I hold the heights, I won. When my sailing days are over,And I sail the seas no more,I shall build myself a refugeBy the oceans murmuring shore.As I watch the foaming breakersWhen the tide comes rushing in,I will contemplate my lifetimeWith its virtues and its sins. 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. Poems for those who had a love for the beach, seashore, sand, and tides. I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done. Poems for those who loved clothes in all their forms, or who made a living in the fashion industry. Our Alley,who art in BowlingHallowed by thy lanesThy strikes will comeThy will be doneOn approach as it is on releaseGive us this game our weekly bowling nightAnd forgive us our splitsAs we forgive thoseWho excessively celebrate against us.Lead us not into the gutterBut deliver us from the ten pin.For ever and EverBowl Men. Their quiet heart, a noble trait,That listened well, would sit and wait,A steady hand, a patient soul,That brought us peace, and made us whole. And when its time that they sadly must leave usWe grieve, but also we smile.We give thanks that our lives were connectedAnd were tucked in their heart for a while. So now its time for restingIve passed the winners lineThink of me, a winning ticketAnd how I lived this life of mine. For the cricket ball writ with a noble name, A team of ten, which had once been eleven, Since this wicket had fallen some days ago, And as the bowler delivered to the lone batsman, The cricketer crossing the last boundary, To a third innings that would forever last. 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. It also comes in handy When Im working on a rhyme. J.G. what day does pilot flying j pay; western power distribution. 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. And now, the builders time has come,But their creations live on and on,A testament to the builders fun:A legacy, to shine upon. Soft whistlingBats perched on the ceilingTears of the cavesDripping and echoingGentle lapping waterAcross rocking shoresGlowing mushrooms andGlowing wormsStalactites and stalagmitesShuddering in placeWarm, soft breathsOf bears who hibernateThe cave is sleepingBut very aliveAnd it is singingA mournful goodbye. John Betjeman began his poem about Cheltenham with the following memory: I composed these lines as a summer wind Was blowing the elm leaves dry And we had seventy six for seven And they had CB Fry. Poems for someone who had a full and successful life. If I were there, Id tell you I have no more pain or strife,That I loved my friends and family, and I had a wonderful life.If I were there, Id tell you how I loved the small blue highways,I loved the curving mountain roads, and I loved to ride the back-road byways. The Cricket Bag concludes with one of his poems which Third Man hopes no one will mind him passing on. We little knew that morning,God was going to call your name.In life we loved your dearly,In death we do the same. The earth was made so sweet,The sky so fair,For man to cultivateAnd love and wear.But we, alas! Cosmopolitan House, Old Fore Street, Sidmouth, Devon, EX10 8LS, Contact : customerservices@thefuneralpoem.com. I love all types of fossils, old bones and stones,A glimpse into the past thats otherwise unknown,I search the wide earth, and dig deep down withinTo uncover all the secrets of our ancient kin. Poems about trains, perfect for those who loved everything locomotive. Always with that memory of failure.Always with the possibility of more. Now Grandmas gone to heaven,But her quilts will long remain,Their beauty and their warmth live on,A comforting, loving refrain. We open the cupboard filled to the brimAnd wonder which game will be todays unholy sin:The boxes are faded and tattered, well worn,All filled with memories from since we were born.Theres dice and board, and card and stickWhich is the one that will be todays pick? 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. Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. 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. Anyone have any other suggestions? I guess he wrote a lot more in a similar vein. 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. Tell her I promise to see her again someday.When that will be, I really cant say.I promise to make up for the time thats passed,To hold her and comfort her in my arms at last. Martial arts is so much more than just a fighting art:It strengthens one spiritually by connecting the soul and heart,Martial arts does more than strengthening the mind, body and soul,It teaches you discipline, lessons to keep emotions under control. The description is reasonably short too, only a few pages. I cant be there to hold your handI cant be there to hug youI cant be there to dry a tearBut there is one thing I can do. 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. You have dementia, that is true,But that wont stop me loving you.Each day brings another chore,Usually worse than the one before. Poems for those who had a passion for music during their life, whether as a DJ, singer, or simply music-lover. Nature would speak to usOur world would become onewith peace and understandingand a little bit of fun. 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. But such a tide as moving seems asleep,Too full for sound and foam,When that which drew from out the boundless deepTurns again home! The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.For nothing now can ever come to any good. 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. Do not ask me to remember,Dont try to make me understand,Let me rest and know youre with me,Kiss my cheek and hold my hand. 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. Through the curves, around the ton, Down the last hill, over-run, City lights below are glowing, Common sense, bike is slowing, Reality, once more it bites, To draw me back from dizzy heights, Down the driveway, to home I glide, Wish my mate was by my side! O Life! cricket poems for funerals The time is nowTo find your passion.Time waits for no one,So get into action. If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelids soundless blink,The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alightUpon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think,To him this must have been a familiar sight., If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm,When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn,One may say, He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm,But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.. Required fields are marked *. I imagine you laughingYour heart lovingly set freeYou understand my griefIn ways I cannot see. When you get what you want in your struggle for wealthAnd the world makes you King for a day,Then go to the mirror and look at yourself,And see what that guy has to say.For it isnt your Father, or Mother, or Wife,Who judgement upon you must pass.The feller whose verdict counts most in your lifeIs the guy staring back from the glass.Hes the feller to please, never mind all the rest,For hes with you clear up to the end,And youve passed your most dangerous, difficult testIf the guy in the glass is your friend.You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,And get pats on the back as you pass,But your final reward will be heartaches and tearsIf youve cheated the guy in the glass.Hes the fellow to please, never mind all the restFor hes with you clear up to the endAnd youve passed your most dangerous, difficult testIf the man in the glass is your friend. I have always been a readerand I will always be oneeven when I am no longer heremy books will live oncarrying me in their heartsjust as I have carried themin mine. We think about the fleeting yearsToo quickly, gone for goodIt seems like only yesterday;We would go back if we could. With each brand new discovery, Im always quite astounded,The history of life on Earth is gloriously unboundedFrom dinosaurs to shells and plants, theres always something more,Fossils are simply priceless treasures I cant help but adore. Oh! and whatever a sun will always sing is you. When a job was finished his tools had to be clean, because he was the boss of a slap-happy working team. Carry On Shauna Danskin A highly poetic piece which urges mourners to look forward with hope.Dear Friends I Go anon A call to look forward and stay positive in the face of death.Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep anon A popular poem to encourage mourners not to weep, but to look ahead.He Is Gone / She Is Gone David Harkins A poem urging mourners to have fond memories of the person theyve lost.I Am Always With You anon A verse reflecting upon the idea that our lost loved ones are always with us.One At Rest anon A call to think of the deceased as simply resting. Best Rugby Poems. See more ideas about grief quotes, grieving quotes, cowboy prayer. But you think I am goneYou dont see me, but I can see youWhatever the problems, I will help you get through. I wish I could give you many more years.I wish I could erase away all of your tears. 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. I imagine you greetingThe others that I loveThat sadly left this earthFor a home with you above. I have always neededthe solace of storiesthe companionship of charactersthe escape of other worldsthe wisdom of wordsthe guidance of good writing. 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. I do not ask you for your tears,For I am free, my suffering past.Remember all the times we laughed,And when you find that happy place,Let a smile light up your face. The parents in the middle though,cant share this special caring,Its just for us, my Gran and I,adventures we are sharing,And even if my situations bad,my Gran is not deterred,What is it about a Grandmother?I think Love must be the word! One more day to hold your handand to watch you live your life as you planned. But every life that ever forms,Or ever comes to be,Touches the world in some small wayFor all eternity. In Tag, celebrityattached to beingIt,so why share it? Grandmas quilts were always there,A comforting, colourful sight,A source of warmth and motherly love,On cold and lonely nights. 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. H eartbreaks hurt less when you were by my side. Aroma of Yorks chocolate ten miles away, bread-baking and brewing downwind of Carlislemake me ready for dinner. You came into this lifetime for a purpose,You may have followed someones footsteps,orMay have followed your dream,Maybe you just joined to drive with lights and sirens,butYou made it your life. These top poems in list format are the best examples of rugby poems written by PoetrySoup members. Fly, fly little wingFly where only angels singFly away, the time is rightGo now, find the light. Some time at eve when the tide is low,I shall slip my mooring and sail away,With no response to the friendly hailOf kindred craft in the busy bay.In the silent hush of the twilight pale,When the night stoops down to embrace the day,And the voices call in the waters flow-Some time at eve when the tide is low,I shall slip my mooring and sail away.Through the purpling shadows that darkly trailOer the ebbing tide of the Unknown Sea,I shall fare me away, with a dip of sailAnd a ripple of waters to tell the taleOf a lonely voyager, sailing awayTo the Mystic Isles where at anchor layThe crafts of those who have sailed beforeOer the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore.A few who have watched me sail awayWill miss my craft from the busy bay;Some friendly barks that were anchored near,Some loving souls that my heart held dear,In silent sorrow will drop a tearBut I shall have peacefully furled my sailIn mooring sheltered from storm and galeAnd greet the friends who have sailed beforeOer the Unknown Sea to the Unknown Shore. For they existed. 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. Last scene of all,That ends this strange eventful history,Is second childishness and mere oblivion;Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. We sit a whileWe guess bird namesWe look them upWe watch bird games. I am the wind in your hair, the sand in your toesButterfly kisses that you feel on your noseI am with you at sunrise and in the sunsetBut you cannot see me, its my one regret. Long, long afterward, in an oakI found the arrow, still unbroke.And the song, from beginning to end,I found again in the heart of a friend. I look at the clues That are luring me there. 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. You said to look to the night skiesFor there is no other love so resoluteThat the feelings we grow for others;They are never absolute. Poems for those who suffered from a physical hindrance during their life. When you decide to call me LordIn Your special way,Could there be a team one player shortWho might ask me to play? 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. 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. From stretcher to oar with drive and draw,He speeds the boat along.All whalebone and steel and a willowy feel,That is the oarsmans song. Thanks to Roger. And though they may be gone now, Their love will always stay, A beacon shining bright and true, To guide us on our way. anon A poem wondering whether one has done productive or destructive deeds in life. Crickets Poems - Modern Award-winning Crickets Poetry : All Poetry What secrets are revealedWhilst mirrored in that chairAll caped or gowned and waitingFor the trusted hairdresser to share, As scissors work at a frenzyFeverishly between cuts and snipsShe listens intently with friendly earEmpathy at her finger tips. And in my fleeting lifespan,as time went rushing byI found some time to hesitate,to laugh, to love, to cry Matters it now if time beganIf time will ever cease? Throttle on, and forward blast, The next corner, looming fast, Leaning in hard, and tyres gripping, Miles behind me, quickly slipping, White posts like a picket fence, Concentration, full, intense. Your email address will not be published. From the first time that you hold em,Through every time you scold em,And every soiled nappy that youve changed,From all the crap you saw,They will always dish out more,Its just the way that children are arranged. And should you think of me,think of me dragon freeupon the endless plains,immersed in a new story,in deepest fascination playing,worlds of music, magic, art,just me,doing me things,and smiling. If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,Or walk with Kingsnor lose the common touch,If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,If all men count with you, but none too much;If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything thats in it,Andwhich is moreyoull be a Man, my son! And if theres an occasionTo mention who you knewSpeak kindly of that personAs one day it will be you. 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 My little girl has gone,but to her little boy I will continue to sing our song. I imagine you watchingThe many things I doProudly standing beside meAs I remember and honour you. So sleep now with the angels,And your golden heart let rest.Although our hearts are broken,We know God took the best. After reading it, I sat downin the garden and looked aroundat the green grass and the spikyflowers and the white cloudsriding high, and I thought,Its all a miracle. Ring out the grief that saps the mindFor those that here we see no more;Ring out the feud of rich and poor,Ring in redress to all mankind. Here is a list of beautiful and comforting poems and verses for funerals and memorial services. It's a powerful memorial poem to celebrate someone who knew they were dying and lived life to its fullest up until their last breath. The ceremony is conducted by a humanist celebrantand it is both a celebration of a life and a dignified, personal farewell. Cave of wonderscaverns so deepthrough vast rooms I wanderso many secrets to keep. I do not think of you lying in the wet clayOf a Monaghan graveyard; I seeYou walking down a lane among the poplarsOn your way to the station, or happily. I can sit here in my room at nightAnd dream of you out thereAnd make a blanket just for youWith tender loving care. In this lonely place, beside a spring,I brew my tea and dream.The green leaves dance and whisper secretsIn the quiet afternoon sun. Nature funeral poems about flowers and trees. Only for those of a special breed,Living a dream, a chance to succeed,Yesterdays hopes and desires coming true,Making your mark with records anew,Proving hard work and the daily grind,Instructing the body, conditioning the mindCan capture a medal for the whole world to see, withGlamour and Pride for your country.As you stand aloft and your flag is flown high, theresMemories forever, and a tear in your eye,Enjoying the moment, the admiring looks,Securing your name in the history books. It was a joy to watch him, for he movedAs if he were the embodiment of joy,As if the energy that animated himWere a spirit that he couldnt destroy,A force that he had learned to channelInto the grace of his somersaults and cartwheels,The beauty of his handstands. And so we meet again today,To toast your bodys end.For it was true and faithful,Until right at the end. Please know how many lives you touch.These words are my present. 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. 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. 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. Now both of us have been to school though many years ago we both have passed our English gradesbut still we do not know! They would put in the footings then forget to build the wall, and when they did it was neither short nor tall. The memories so dear and true,those memories of me and you. Thou life giving wheelWhose sinews are steelMy veins imbibe life from thine ownAnd I sink to my restWith true loyal zestWhile my dreams are my cycles alone. Too soon he left to travelBeyond where we can seeBut its all about the journeyForever riding free. The first rose represents our grief.The pain of losing you is intense.It reminds us of the depth of our love for you. There are 2 types of captains in World Cricket. His was a life full of kindness and heart,He was selfless, private, but always played his partCaring for animals to him was like art,And his example inspired many others to start. Our fishermanWho art on riverbanksAngler be thy nameThy fishing season comesThy casting will be doneThe weather will be heavenly.Give us this day lots of bitesAnd forgive us our laughterAs we forgive you, yourLies about the one that got away.Lead us to a shoal of fishAnd deliver us a big catchFor thine is the carpThe Pike and the TroutForever and ever,Amen. God saw her getting tiredAnd a cure was not to beSo he put His arms around herAnd whispered Come to me.. Then at the very endWhen they were on their kneesYou still walked tallAnd like your matesYou claimed to take it allThe penalty and the strike,your wayThe win that set your heart aflameThe game, the pitch, the offside ruleThe love that took your heartYour final match at home your ball. Id like to sow the barren spotswith all the flowers of earth,To leave a path where those who comeshould find but gentle mirth;And when at last Im called uponto join the heavenly throngId like to feel along my wayId left no sign of wrong. 1000, images about Friend, Gifts on Pinterest, Friend Atmiya Vidya Mandir: English, s by Grade 7 Poets. You tell the worn raincoat that if you talk about it,you will finally let grief out. 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! Fly, fly precious oneYour endless journey has begunTake your gentle happinessFar too beautiful for thisCross over to the other shoreThere is peace forevermoreBut hold this memry bittersweetUntil we meet. We must dig in and get through to tea. Bowling Ball Blues L.M. You raised a fine family, worked the land well and always followed the Son,Hang up your shovel inside of the barn; your work here on earth is done.
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