Grandmas quilts were always there,A comforting, colourful sight,A source of warmth and motherly love,On cold and lonely nights. It knocks down the road toward the next wreckers yard,And it cant get far; whos driving this car? Immediately they,vie for position.Victory and glory,is their common mission. So let us ride to help make others aware.That the roads that we ride are for all to share. It is right that she is loved: her courage shinesin all the maxims that she does not drawfrom sixty years to warn our present joy.In all her tales, her husband and three sonsquietly keep the graves she bought for them. Haiku I wrote whilst out at some live jazz back in October, when it was warm enough for crickets. 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. These poems are brief and express your feelings in few but powerful words. I am a juggler, and I juggle as I go,Flung from hand to hand, these balls of life and woe;I catch them as they fall and fling them to the sky,And catch them as they come back down, and so I juggle by. What are Airlines Policies on carrying ashes? Beyond anon A short verse signalling the hope that beyond the bad emotions there is peace and forgiveness.Dont Judge Me Kathleen Wilson A lament on behalf of someone who may have felt outcast or unaccepted.If I Had A Voice Caroline Wilkes A verse apologising for not always being the best person one could be.Time Will Ease The Hurt Bruce B Wilmer A verse suggesting that time helps painful memories fade away.When I Come To The End Mrs Lyman Hancock A verse urging mourners to remember the deceased at their best. Mighty proud! Sowellgono more a-climbingSolate into the night,Though the will be neer unyielding,And the urge be still as bright. Ill give the angelsBack their wingsAnd risk the lossOf everything. For years, the riverbank was whereYour soul felt most at peaceYour heart was most content when thereWith the fish and the geese. The windows blurry, the odometers broke,The tires are bare; whos driving this car? The board is your target, not the mat,So, be careful what youre aiming at! Of all the friendsIve ever met,Youre the oneI wont forget. She loves to sing all kinds of songs.Please tell her that she did no wrong.Would you comfort her and hold her in your arms tight?And tell her she is missed every day and night. On the ashes of our Baseball Ground. Land of the rainbow gold,For flood and fire and famine she pays us back threefold.Over the thirsty paddocks, watch, after many days,The filmy veil of greenness that thickens as we gaze. In winter gentle sheep may graze Preserving turf for summer days, A picket fence thrown round the square I think about all the things Ill miss,your smile, your laugh, your kiss. It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk,Though my own red roses there may blow;It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk,Though the red roses crest the caps, I know.For the field is full of shades as I near the shadowy coast,And a ghostly batsman plays to the bowling of a ghost,And I look through my tears on a soundless-clapping hostAs the run-stealers flicker to and fro,To and fro;O my Hornby and my Barlow long ago! Climbing up inclines so tall,treading carefully as not to fallemerging from the depthstaking several deep breathsI make my way to the surfacethe thought of leaving makes me nervous. Below are the all-time best Rugby poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. 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. The caged bird singswith a fearful trillof things unknownbut longed for stilland his tune is heardon the distant hillfor the caged birdsings of freedom. A candle burns bright in a window of goldA beacon for lifes weary heartPromising beauty and splendours untoldOf a world that now keeps us apart. Trees by Joyce Kilmer. Of course, you could also write your own. The song captures the atmosphere of a village cricket match and is an elegy to the game as played during Harper's youth. 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. O you are not lying in the wet clay,For it is harvest evening now and weAre piling up the ricks against the moonlightAnd you smile up at us eternally. cricket poems for funerals. Nothing is over until we decide it is! Rugby, what a beautiful and passionate game Its not about money, fashion or fame. 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. Dad was an avid cricket fan and we wanted something appropriate for him to read. Tiny Angel shook his head,These things I do not knowBut I do know that you love me,And that I love you so., This was a life that had hardly begunNo time to find your place in the SunNo time to do all you could have doneBut we loved you enough for a lifetimeNo time to enjoy the world and its wealthNo time to take life down off the shelfNo time to sing the songs of yourselfThough you had enough love for a lifetime. And round that early laurelled headWill flock to gaze the strengthless dead,And find un-withered on its curlsThe garland briefer than a girls. Of round . We rubbed our chins and scratched our heads just what did it mean?Try menacing, or angry,or something in between? enter an oceanfeeling insignificant,overwhelmed by its enormity. Standing and waiting for the race of life to beginIm getting quite nervous.Am I going to win? I Hold The Heights Geoffrey Winthrop Young An abridged version of the original which basks in the glory of hiking.Im Climbing A Mountain Andrew Blakemore An uplifting poem about the sights and sounds of a climb.So Well Go No More A-Climbing anon An adaptation of Lord Byrons original; a lament to a climbing partner. Nature funeral poems about flowers and trees. He hopes for a blissful afterlife for the man, and knows that if there isn't one, he's happy knowing his friend made the best of his. 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 Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Written with a pen.Sealed with a kiss.If you are my friend,please answer this: Are we friendsOr are we not?You told me onceBut I forgot. If we treat each other with respectAnd more often wear a smile,Remembering this special dashMight only last a little while. Here is the funeral poem: Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, They would make good funeral poems for a nature lover who spent a lot of time in their garden. I cant say goodbye.I cant acceptYour death.You will live in my heartForeverUntil my last breath. And rumble off to clubhouse forA changing of the brew;Black vests in formationfastand tighta loud tribute. 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. Now both of us have been to school though many years ago we both have passed our English gradesbut still we do not know! Sometimes we do the rumba,a foxtrot or a jive,as we dance through our life,each and every day. A life well lived is a precious giftOf hope and strength and grace,From someone who has made our worldA brighter, better placeIts filled with moments, sweet and sadWith smiles and sometimes tears,With friendships formed and good times sharedAnd laughter through the years.A life well lived is a legacyOf joy and pride and pleasure,A living, lasting memoryOur grateful hearts will treasure. Were many in number but we ride as one, With the pavement beneath us and our face in the sun.With the wind at our backs and our gear all on, We ride in remembrance of those who have passed on. 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. Life is an ocean and love is a boat,In troubled water that keeps us afloat,When we started the voyage, there was just me and you Now gathered round us, we have our own crew. A line, a house would pass me byThe frustration could make a grown man cry! )Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renewd,Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,The question, O me! 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. 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. Anthea Ballam A wonderful verse about the dual meaning of a conductors call of aaaaand rest!Funeralissimo Michael Ashby A short verse about musical notes lamenting the loss of a talented musician.The Gift To Sing James Weldon Johnson A short verse discussing the wonders of song and its ability to raise spirits.My Trumpet Is Silent anon A verse about being silent in this life, but reunited with past band members in the next.Reflections Of A Boomer anon A verse infused with various song lyrics and titles, perfect for a music lover.Songbird Georgia Lound A wistful verse about following the tune of a loved ones life, even after they die.Where Words Fail, Music Speaks Lucy Rudman A poem about the ability of song to express our feelings. Blessed art Thou oh Lord our God!Thou hast made the sand, the grass the trees,and gently in the tallest oak,You waft a gentle breeze.You drew the bubbling little brook.You painted the placid pond.You sigh the deepest twilight.And smile the brightest dawn.Beneath the fog, beneath the mist,that drifts across the ground,You twirl Your mighty finger,and spin this world around.The hills, the valleys, the winding wood,inspire a soul to sing,was ever there such beauty, Lordwhere rolls the emerald greenOh God, I know You are a golfer,Your work does thus demand.It seems Your only handicap,is this thing that You call man.Can this be an island, Lord?A place of grace and charm.Away from daily trouble Lord,away from daily harm?We pray that this may be, dear God,a place where love extends.Where travellers come as strangersand golfers leave as friends! The times you saved a structure, a lifeor doing the unthinkable, you were there. Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;One more rider, Heaven bound,Roars through the Pearly Gates. As we say goodbye, and bid them adieu,We remember the flag, and all it stands for true.A symbol of liberty, for all to see,We honour their memory, and now set it free. Sometimes Jacks come out to play,theyre a joyful bunch and kind.It happens they overrule the Kings,but isnt it true that love is blind? Show all. 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. Each angel was a fishermanWho had traded his poleFor golden wings and a game planAt Heavens Fishing Hole. The archer and his bowCannot be torn apart;For shot after shotThey share the same heart. There were a couple of muckers who mixed up the cement,they were forever subbing so they never paid their rent. 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.. 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. 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? You left withoutWarning.Gone so fast.Now all we haveAre memoriesOf our past. Its all about expectingAnd then throwing inIts all about the winningBut not whining not giving-inThe square, the short and long ballThe pals, solid as a rockThe unexpected tackleSudden shock, You felt the roarAnd saw the lucky chipThe crossbar stopped the goalThat you were willing in, And in the endAt injury timeWhen you went deep and deeperYou didnt find the goalOr spot the sweeper. The feet of dancersShine with mirth,Their hearts are vibrant as bells: The air flows by themDivided like waterCut by a gleaming ship. 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. We think of you as yesterday,When you were fit and well.And when were asked about you,Its those things that well tell. Rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, and birdsDogs, and cats, and everything furredAn interest in creatures in others she stirredAnd through illness, she went on, undeterred. Angel Wings anon A beautiful poem about the deep bond a parent forms with a child even when they die young.Asleep Wendy Sisson A short but impactful poem comparing an infants death to a peaceful sleep.A Butterfly Lights Beside Us anon A touching short verse comparing the loss of a child to a butterfly passing by.The Cord anon A beautiful poem about a mothers love for their deceased child being an unbreakable, invisible cord.Dear Child In Heaven anon A poem with a religious sentiment finding comfort in the knowledge of a child in heaven.Fingerprints Tom Krause A poem reflection upon the huge impact a child can have on our lives and our hearts.Little Snowdrop anon A poem to reflect the immense grief a parent might feel when they lose their child.Love In Every Tear anon A poem about the child we had, but never had, yet we will have forever.Never K. Fugleberg A poem lamenting all the things a parent will never get to do with their child.Parenthood Graeme Cook An amusing and thought-provoking poem about the joys and toils of parenting.These Are My Footprints anon A poem that urges us to see the remnants of a lost child in the world around us.Tiny Angel anon A poem reflecting upon the question of why? we had to lose a child at such a young age.Too Soon Mary Yarnall A poem about loving a child enough for a lifetime, even though they were taken too soon.When I Speak Martin Nelson A poem about the positive memories one still has after a childs death.
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