Feel no guilt in laughter, theyd know how much you care.Feel no sorrow in a smile that they are not here to share.You cannot grieve forever; they would not want you to.Theyd hope that you could live your life the way you always do.So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared,the days you spent together, all the happiness you shared.Let memories surround you, a word someone may saywill suddenly recapture a time, an hour or a day,that brings them back as clearly as though they were still here,and fills you with the feeling that they are always near.For if you keep those moments, you will never be apartand they will live forever locked safely within your heart. 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. You are using an out of date browser. 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. Ruth E. Renkl. 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. And all the while Im pouring drinksFor all my treasured punters:Lawyers, doctors, teachers, shrinks,Accountants and headhunters. The archer and his bowCelebrate victory!The greatest of allThe archers in history. If in this way you see yourself reflected,And all these things you have already done.A pigeon fancier there can be detected,And what is more, a good one, too, my son. But I am a man who loves his jobAnd the life I live. My big right hand, gloved and fisted, Feeling now, the throttle twisted, Crisp exhaust roar, sounding sweet, Drop the clutch, and hit the street, The revs rise sharply, grab next gear, Excitement tinged with hint of fear, Watch that tacho needle wind, All and sundry left behind. So let us honour and rememberThe warriors spirit that lives onFor it will be with us foreverIn every battle, lost or won. Totally fictional, totally far fetched, and totally brilliant. As I stand at the caves entranceNodding my headuntil next timemy good friend. 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. To all of those that think of me,Be happy as I go out to sea.If others wonder why Im missinJust tell em Ive gone fishin. Poems for chefs, cooks, and those who simply enjoyed spending time in the kitchen cooking for their loved ones. But I couldnt imagine anything id rather be,causelifeas a hairdresser is thelifefor me! adapted from the poem by Sherry L. Williams. Now you will not swell the routOf lads that wore their honours out,Runners whom renown outranAnd the name died before the man. 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. They were the glue that held us all in place, The one we could always depend on, Their warmth and kindness never failed, Their love, an endless fountain. Poems for those who found joy in the rhythmic motion of knitting. William Shakespeare. Which is happier, man or boy?The soul of the father is steeped in joy,For hes finding out, to his hearts delight,That his son is fit for the future fight.He is learning the glorious depths of him,And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim.And he shall discover, when night comes on,How close he has grown to his little son. That man taught me to ride a bike,And even how to fly a kite.He taught me to know wrong from right,When to run and when to fight. For in the real scheme of things,Your illness wasnt long.Compared to all the happiness,You brought your whole life long. Scatter my ashes at Pemaquid Point*,Let the wind sail them home to the sea.Cradle of life, be my cradle in death,And set my spirit free. He put his arms around youAnd lifted you to rest.Gods garden must be beautiful,He always takes the best. Too many to paste into the thread, enjoy! They fall on deaf ears, heart turned asideWaiting for someone, arms open wideI have become lost, my own mistakeI went far from them, no path to take. 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. Sometimes we do the rumba,a foxtrot or a jive,as we dance through our life,each and every day. 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! as when he showed up immaculately dressed in slacks and plaid jacketand had that beautiful smile on and youd talk.Youd go to get something and come back and hed be gone. A humanist funeralis a non-religious ceremony that focuses on the person who has died, the life they led, and the relationships they forged. The laughter and loveIt always shone through. But then, your spirit came to restWhere angels chose to roamAnd once equipped with ten-pound testYou made yourself at home. Iron horses, hundreds strong,Come thundring through the gate;Sleeping souls on notice, fallenBiker nears his fate. Look sharp! The strings were tied, it was freshly washed, and maybe even pressed.For Grandma, it was every day to choose one when she dressed.The simple apron that it was, you would never think about.the things she used it for, that made it look worn out. Dear Lord, each time I bowl a frameI thank you for this striking game.Each step I take down the alleys laneIm glad I can play sunshine or rain.When Ive hooked my final Bowling BallPlease spare me a split when I answer your call,And take my mortal soul to beWith you in Heavenly Bowl. I am standing upon the seashore.A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.She is an object of beauty and strength.I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloudjust where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.Then someone at my side says, There, she is gone.Gone where?Gone from my sight. I know of tall pines,And long, waiting lines.Of the warmth of campfires,And the agony of flat tires. You can go now my loveI must allow you to.The world is a vast and beautiful placeSo much to exploreWithout me. Brothers to the left of meSisters to the rightThats the way we ate dinnerEvery single night. We kick off-side by side in a minuteCheered by old family, teammates and friendsFootballs really a blast in heavenAfter your first whistle, the matches never end! Pierce a bulls eye if you darethrow a fine dart through the aircenter it upon the dotgive it everything you got. We will take this special momentTo turn our thoughts to Dad;To thank him for the home he gaveFor all the things we had. Each angel was a fishermanWho had traded his poleFor golden wings and a game planAt Heavens Fishing Hole. Stretching my limbsChoreographing on a whimAlways aiming to be strongerTo hold my arabesque longer. Take my ash, and let it fly,Oer the land of ShimanoBut save some for Italia fairAnd the fields of Campagno(lo). Listen to the storiesthe old trees tell in hushing voices,the rushing sounds of ocean waves . Click on the title to continue reading, or browse a larger collection of funeral verses, including non-religious funeral poems and short verses. Thanks to Roger. To be free of regretIn your old age,Never ever forgetTo fully live today! Perfect for him: right field inbaseball, an eccentrics positionthough he thought of drifting into otherfields beyond. A bonnet, a jacket, and bootees tooWill they need to be made in blue or in pink?Perhaps lemon is safe, she could do them there and thenInstead of having to guess or even to think. Ive learned so much throughout my lifebut theres much I dont recall.I know its in there somewhereBut its hard to find it all.Its not that Ive forgotten you,or the things I said Id do;I remember everythingBut its hidden somewhere I cant seejust beyond my view. 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. Poems for those who either acted in films or shared a passion for movies unlike any other. In Hide and Seek, he let the othersstay hidden, content to enjoythe solitude. The rays of light filtered throughThe sentinels of trees this morning.I sat in the garden and contemplated.The serenity and beautyOf my feelings and surroundingsCompletely captivated me. And when great souls die,after a period peace blooms,slowly and alwaysirregularly. After the night, the morning, bidding all darkness cease, 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. From the moment they are born, That bond never shall be torn,Regardless of all they do or say,Theyll always be your kid,No matter what they did,Loves bloodline, can never go astray. 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. Ring out old shapes of foul disease;Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;Ring out the thousand wars of old,Ring in the thousand years of peace. Every gambler knowsThat the secret to survivinIs knowin what to throw awayAnd knowin what to keepCause every hands a winnerAnd every hands a loserAnd the best that you can hope forIs to die in your sleep.. I am a man who works with God,I cannot succeed without his help,For you see,Im just a farmerPlain and simple. Some people say keeping a barIs the worst job on the EarthI know the truth; how wrong they areIf only they knew its worth! 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. God looked around his gardenAnd found an empty place,He then looked down upon the earthAnd saw your tired face. F amily man, first and foremost. Poems for those who enjoyed the tranquillity and competition of Crown Green Bowls. IM driving this thing, and this car is ME,And its all worn out, but I made it work. Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye. The warriors spirit never diesIt lives on in every fightIn every motion, every strideIt shines with power and might. 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. We have but a short timeOn this earth,So value your lifeFor what its really worth. The bird that was trapped has flownThe sky that was grey is blueThe bone that was dead has grownThe dream that was dreamed is true, The door that was locked has swung wideThe prisoner has been set freeThe lips that were sealed have criedThe eye that was blind can see, The tree that was bare is greenThe room that was dull is brightThe sheet that was soiled is cleanThe dawn that was dark is light, The road that was blocked has no endThe unknown journey is knownThe heart that is hurt will mendThe bird that was trapped has flown. If you can leave a warm and cosy fireside,When winter winds, nigh chill you to the bone,To feed and scrape at morning, night or noontide,Yet utter not a grumble or a groan.If you can stand for hours with teeth a chatter,When parted hens decide that they will roam.And smiling, say, It doesnt really matter,I only hope that they will all come home. Where the Oriole swellsHis throat as he tellsOf his flight through ethereal spaceAnd his music flowsWhile the earths reposeIs deeper because of his grace. When youre lost, when youre alone,and you can see nothing but the darkness,when the shadowy fingers of night reach out,to envelope you in their icy embrace,till every breath only causes you pain,and despair is your only loyal companion. Chris Gayle Cricket is a team game. Unique if rudyard kipling related items, Etsy. Hes asked me if I would care to danceCant refuse, so Ill take the chanceTrembling as he takes me into his armsGliding together as the music starts. Well see your smile in every rayOf sunshine after rainAnd hear the of echo of your laughterOver all the pain. At PoemSearcher.com find thousands of poems categorized into thousands of categories. I sit right beside you when you are sadAnd you look through the photos of times that we hadI watch you sleeping, I hold you so tightBefore I go, I kiss you goodnight. Verses are listed by category, and alphabetically. This traverse may the poorest takeWithout oppress of toll;How frugal is the chariotThat bears a human soul! The members sat in their strong deckchairs, 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. You always brought the sunshineand you brightened up our world,spreading happiness and kindnesssince you were a little girl. Can you send cremation ashes in the post? Weeping willows formed an honour guardFor the cricket ball writ with a noble nameA team of ten, which had once been elevenWould never be the same side again. With a nod of the head, or a grip of the hand,He will give you his bond, that for ever will stand,And nothing much safer youll find in the land;For that is the badge of a Yorkshireman. As you played and sharedAnd helped and taughtThe laughter and love always shone through. So Im off for a golfing holiday,Far away fromThe cares of town.And Ill strive each dayBetter golf to playtill my handicap comes down. When the bell rings for last ordersPlease dont panic or get vexedIts simply time to sup this worlds last drinkBefore ordering your first in the next. That Hand is you, Old Sailor.And youll be sailing out on Heavenly Seas.May the wind be ever at your back.Fair weather, and God Speed! The Driver Graeme Cook A gorgeous poem for those who felt at one with their car, rather than merely driving it.Fast Car Jamie Blake A hectic poem ideal for some who drove fast and perhaps passed away in a motoring accident.Racing Car Poem Martin Dejnicki A poem about racing, perhaps Formula 1, and the adrenaline rush it produces.Whos Driving This Car? Langston Hughes remarks: As Befits a Man. As kids, we lived togetherWe fought, we laughed, we cried.We did not always show the love,that we both had inside.We shared our dreams and plans,and some secrets too.All the memories we share,Is what bonds me now to you.We grew to find we have a lovethat is very strong today.Its a love shared by our family,that will never fade away.You are my brother not by choice,but by the nature of our birthI could not have chosen a better oneyou were the best on earth. Dont get your feet wet when you throw,And to this advice please hark,Take up a firm but easy stance Behind the eight-foot mark! What is it about a Grandmother,that is such a special bond,Seeing not the years between us,but so very much beyond,For being so much older,just doesnt seem to be a case,The ages seem to melt to nought,within our own special place. Little rattle of dry seeds in pods, The board is your target, not the mat,So, be careful what youre aiming at! Earrings Mark Gregory a poem in free verse about a woman who wore earrings with true grace.A Mothers Crown anon A religious poem about all the elements of a mothers character.She Loved Jewellery Lewis Raynes A slightly humorous poem for someone who wore a lot of jewellery. 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. Should you require a celebrant for your ceremony, be it a funeral, a wedding, a naming ceremony or something else, feel free to get in touch. And when this carpenter arrived in heavenhe was expected andimmediately he was put to work:for the Pearly Gateswere a bit looseand St. Peters deskhad a couple of drawers that stuck.And before longthe old master carpenterbegan to builda new thronefor God. Uncle And Friend Michaella A. Molinski A poem for an uncle who was also considered a friend. Heaven has received another angel,The night sky another star.Your life has become a loving memory.I know you will never be far. I pray the umpire knows his job,And doesnt lift his finger.But if he does I pledge to you:Ill not forlornly linger. 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. No bails united the forlorn stumpsSince this wicket had fallen some days agoAnd as the bowler delivered to the lone batsmanThe hushed crowd willed a six to go. BUY NOW PAY LATER with Klarna, available at checkout. Haiku for a Father. And at the end of that good lifewhen it came time for him to diethe old carpenter soaredinto the white light of death for the white light is where the good souls go to. 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. Aunt Mabel Don Geiger A poem written for a specific aunt, but which many nieces and nephews can relate to.My Aunt Megan Stokes A poem written for an aunt but can be used for a generic female role model.What My Aunt Meant To Me anon A beautiful poem indicating the place in our hearts that our aunt held. Too soon he left to travelBeyond where we can seeBut its all about the journeyForever riding free. Poems encouraging us to think positively in the face of death. For that dash represents all the timeThat they spent alive on earth;And now only those who loved themKnow what that little line is worth. Together were in this relationship,We built it with care to last the whole trip,Our true destinations not marked on any charts;Were navigating to the shores of the heart. This upbeat tune was used as the theme for the BBC's Test Cricket Highlights for many years, making it popular funeral music for lifelong cricket fans. We put out every kind of seedTo watch small birds come flitter-feed.Blue JaysRobinsChickadeesFlutter in from nearby trees. Ill give the angelsBack their wingsAnd risk the lossOf everything. And keep a song within your heart,give thanks that you can playFor the round is far too short and sweet,to let it slip away. Poems for people from Yorkshire, or for those who loved and epitomised it during their life. The Fisher by Ruby Archer. Jack the cricket was sneaking around in the dell. Youve got to know when to hold emKnow when to fold emKnow when to walk awayAnd know when to runYou never count your moneyWhen youre sittin at the tableTherell be time enough for countinWhen the dealins done. One day you will all forgive meOne day you will understandAnd when your time on earth is doneI will be waiting to take your hand. My lifes journey ended early,The path I chose was short.You all tried your best to change it,But in the end it was for me to sort. I love a sunburnt country, a land of sweeping plains,Of ragged mountain ranges, of droughts and flooding rains.I love her far horizons, I love her jewel-sea,Her beauty and her terror- the wide brown land for me! To the living, I am gone, To the sorrowful, I will never return, To the angry, I was cheated, But to the happy, I am at peace, And to the faithful, I have never left. You offered kindnessAnd greetings with a hug and kiss,Each freely out of love which I will miss. Here is the funeral poem: Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Sadly he has passed away and I'd like to include an evocative piece, perhaps something describing a match or an aspect of the game, that I could read at his funeral. Walk a while with me my friends, walk with me today,Come and see what I see, and listen to what I say,Yes I have dementia, and sometimes I get worse,Please be very grateful, that you dont have this curse,But are we all that different, the likes of you and me?We breathe the same; we feel the same, the same things we do seeThe only different my friends, I dont feel that well,When I cant remember, everything you tell,My heart beats just as quickly as yours, my blood runs just as fast,But because of my dementia, my shadow, it is cast,Its the shadow cast by others, that takes away my light,Turns my life to darkness, my pleasure to frightFor when you cast that shadow, and it comes my way,It drains me of my energy, makes me hide, or run away,Sometimes I do different things, my mind is not my own,But do YOU never talk to yourself, when you are alone?So am I all that different? The batsman pensively departed. Idyll Siegfried Sassoon A peaceful poem about meeting again in the calmness and idyll of the afterlife.Overwhelmed Marjorie Pizer A verse about sitting by the sea to seek calmness when everything gets too much.Their Quiet Heart Mark Gregory A verse for someone who brought calmness and serenity to any situation. The first verse of Sir Henry Newbolt's 'Play the Game'? The place was very quiet,But not too quiet. Above all, Father Time, I prayWhen all is said and done,That we can all look back and sayBy eck, that game was fun!, by the players of East Leeds Cricket Club. 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. It rang an alarm in the dead of the night An alarm that for years had been dumb;And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight That his hour of departure had come.Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chimeAs we silently stood by his side;But it stopped short never to go again When the old man died. 1000, images about Friend, Gifts on Pinterest, Friend Atmiya Vidya Mandir: English, s by Grade 7 Poets. I am a martial artist. Tiny Angel rest your wingsSit with me for awhile.How I long to hold your hand,And see your tender smile. 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. Near a shady wall a rose once grew,Budded and blossomed in Gods free light,Watered and fed by the morning dew,Shedding its sweetness day and night.As it grew and blossomed fair and tall,Slowly rising to loftier height,It came to a crevice in the wallThrough which there shone a beam of light.Onward it crept with added strengthWith never a thought of fear or pride,It followed the light through the crevices lengthAnd unfolded itself on the other side.The light, the dew, the broadening viewWere found the same as they were before,And it lost itself in beauties new,Breathing its fragrance more and more.Shall claim of death cause us to grieveAnd make our courage faint and fall?Nay!
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