I cant improve you life, thats true,But I am always there to care for you.Years ago you became my wife,Since then you have become my life. R est in peace and know I will miss you every day. Slumber sweetly little oneUpon your dusty bed.The earth be both your blanketAnd pillow for your head. Their love for film was boundlessAnd theyd watch them one by oneFrom the classics to the newest hitsTheir passion was second to none. Eternal rocks will form my tomb,Sand my quilt shall be,Protecting from shipwreck and raging storms,And Ill become one with the sea. Tossed to and fro in a raging tide of emotion;without you, Im just so lost and broken. BINGO, I shout, its my timeI finally got to complete that line! The world is always peaceful,As I sit and drink my tea.Im grateful for these simple moments,Of pure tranquility. Take my ash, and let it fly,Oer the land of ShimanoBut save some for Italia fairAnd the fields of Campagno(lo). Brothers to the left of meSisters to the rightThats the way we ate dinnerEvery single night. A Dad is a person, who is loving and kind,And often he knows what you have on your mind.Hes someone who listens, suggests, and defendsA dad can be one of your very best friends!Hes proud of your triumphs, but when things go wrong,A dad can be patient and helpful and strong.In all that you do, a dads love plays a partTheres always a place for him deep in your heartAnd each year that passes, youre even more glad,More grateful and proud just to call him your dad!Thank you Dad, for listening and caring,for giving and sharing, but, especially, for just being you! Unknown Life is simply a cricket match, with temptation as the bowler. 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. The worst berets you have ever seen(pics appreciated)? A faith few possess led your journey through life, often a jagged and stony way,The sun is setting, the cattle are all bedded, and here now is the end of your day. The following verses are among the most popular for a funeral. And then I thought, I am a partof all this, and I felta great happiness,and I opened the book againand began to read. As I look into your little boys eyes, I know I have to carry onso I can tell him about his mom. But now their time on earth is doneAnd we gather to say goodbyeWell remember them very fondlyAs we look up at the night sky. You can also find an index of topics at the top of this page. 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. I discovered you tuckedAway in the shadow of the trees.Then rediscovered you on the smiles of the flowersAs the sun penetrated the petals;In the rhythm of the leavesFalling in the garden;In the freedom of birdsAs they fly searching as you do. Last Journey Timothy Coote A rhythmic poem ideal for someone who loved locomotives. You filled our home with happinessand made our life complete.The time we had with youwas far too short, but oh so sweet. Camping Kaitlyn DeMatteo A short verse contemplating the wonders of camping out under the stars.I Feel You Drifting Darren White A moving, heartfelt verse written by a partner to their lost lover.This Journey Is Just Beginning Ju D. G. A lament upon having to part, but hopeful of what might be to come. Poems for those people who enjoyed collecting fossils, or, indeed, were amateur or professional palaeontologists. Someday when Im all grown up,Youre what I want to be.Then I will have a little childWholl want to follow me. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overheadScribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. Ive seen her use that apronTo wipe her dripping browAs she laboured over the big rangeThats just an antique now. 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? Humour is an essential part of life, so why not of death. Day after day, week after weekSo many tales does she acquaintRemaining focused in the task at handBut with the patience of a saint. Death is too negative for meSo Ill be popping off for a long cup of teaDo splash out on two bags in the potAnd for my gods sake keep the water hotPlease pick the biggest mug you can findSize really does matter at this timeIll pass on the lapsang with that souchongAnd that stuff with bergamotAnd stick with my favourite friendYou know the English breakfast blendBreakfast! For this one farmer the worries are over, lie down and rest your head,Your time has been and struggles enough, put the tractor in the shed. Poems for those who had a passion for butterfly collecting and breeding, or just enjoyed watching them flutter by. A mile of gleaming metal linesThe circle and the park;Out of saddles, boots hit brickAnd make for chapels heart. 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. My pencil is ready; The boxes are bare. To be free of regretIn your old age,Never ever forgetTo fully live today! In his pastimes and sports he will try all the way,And, back to the wall, make his greatest display;He asks not for favours, but only fair play,For that is the badge of a Yorkshireman. the Scrabble Kinghas arrived once moreto pound awayat the competition. With every punch and every hitIt demonstrates its strength and skillIts resilience, its steel and gritIts honour, courage, and will. On the ashes of our Baseball Ground. If you can scan the skies in dreary weather,And do not feel downhearted when you say,Its dark now, and I havent got a feather,Yet you know that there are several on the day.If you can spare a handful for a stray one,And room at night to rest its weary frame.Count not the cost of what it eats, begrudge none,But hope someone will treat yours just the same. 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. Cricket is played by two teams of eleven players and two umpires. Karate is not just a fight,But a path to a better self,A journey through the darkest night,To a place of health and wealth. This is the legend of Cassius Clay,The most beautiful fighter in the world today.He talks a great deal, and brags indeedyOf a muscular punch thats incredibly speedy.This brash young boxer is something to seeAnd the heavyweight championship is his destiny. Roads go ever ever onUnder cloud and under star,Yet feet that wandering have goneTurn at last to home afar.Eyes that fire and sword have seenAnd horror in the halls of stoneLook at last on meadows greenAnd trees and hills they long have known. The Song of the Reel by W. E. Hutchinson. You were a blessing to us allyou were a special child.And were so glad God sent youto be with us awhile. The ceremony is conducted by a humanist celebrantand it is both a celebration of a life and a dignified, personal farewell. This simple cup of tea,Is a reminder of all that is fleeting,All that is beautiful and transient,In this world of ours. Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,Silence the pianos and with muffled drumBring out the coffin, let the mourners come. The sadness of the present daysIs locked and set in time.And moving to the futureIs a slow and painful climb. Forever the bells will be goneI do not know where to find themFor I thought not of their lightAnd I heard not what they sangWhen the ten thousand bells rang. That very place where children sit,in safety and in pleasure,To bask in love and comfort,is truly a childs life treasure,Where this child can feel so grown up,and a Gran feel like a kid,Learn and laugh together from stories,of all the things she did. The following database of poems and readings is an ever-expanding list of verses useful for anyone planning a funeral ceremony for a loved one. 6. Poems for those who loved exploring the darkest depths of the oceans. Entered to the contest "Haiku Encyclopedia" as a shasei haiku. Golf tees on my dresserGolf tees in my bedGolf tees on my pillowsWhere they poke me in my head.Golf tees in my closetFalling from my shirts and pantsGolf tees along the baseboardsJust like army ants.Golf tees in the carpetAnd underneath my feetGolf tees lined up on the mantleOh, they look so neat.Golf tees in my couchAnd in my back and thighsWhen I sit and watch TVI feel those little guys.Golf tees in the kitchenIn Jurassic coffee mugsSometimes when I pass themThey look like prehistoric bugs.Golf tees in the bathtubLike sailors on plastic shipsGolf tee in her make upLike little bald q tips.Golf tees in the atticGolf tees in the shedGolf tees, golf tees everywhereI wonder where they bred.Golf tees out the backdoorLike Hansel and Gretels trailsGolf tees in the flowerbedsAmong the mulch and snails.Golf tees in my carAnd underneath the matsGolf tees in the backseatLike little baseball bats.But when I am at the golf courseI ask my partner, like a louseMay I borrow some of your tees?I left mine at the house!, I really am a golfer And let me tell you whyIts only when I swing a club I really feel aliveI really am a golferAnd take my driver outI swing my club and hit the ballAs hard as I have mightI really am a golferMy ball is in the roughI swing my metal 3 real hardTo find the grass is toughI really am a golferMy ball goes 50 feetIts out the rough and in the sandAnd buried very deepI really am a golferI take my sand wedge outI open up the face of itAnd swing it with a cloutI really am a golferMy ball is on the greenI swing the putter in an arcWith boggy on the seenI really am a golferMy put goes 10ft pastIm looking at a doubleBut the green is just too fastI really am a golferThe balls beside the cupI make it in the centreAnd my friends they call it luck, by Criswell Freeman(final verse by Mark Gregory), Life is like a round of golf,with many twists and turnsBut the game is much too sweet and short,to curse the shots youve missed, Sometimes youll hit it straight and far,sometimes the puts run trueBut each round has its wayward shots,and troubles to play through, So always swing with heart and courage,no matter what the lieAnd never let the hazardsdestroy the joy inside. Im just a farmer,Plain and simple.Not of a royal birthBut rather, a worker of the earth. 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. We wouldnt eat from a microwaveOr a restaurant down the streetWe all ate Mums home cookingAnd boy that cant be beat. Her Boilers with full head of steam.Cargo stowed and alley stored.Just waiting to get underway.When the last Hand comes aboard. 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. O Life! When the long, dark night is overAnd heaven begins its reignI promise you my darlingI will see you again. Well think of all the moviesThat brought them laughter and tearsAnd though theyre gone from us nowIn our hearts, theyll always be near. He tends the flowers with loving care,And prunes the branches here and there;He weeds the beds and mends the fences,And gathers up the fallen senses. Look sharp! 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. Poems for those who loved nothing better than riding on two wheels. 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! Time passed, that man grew old and frail,No longer strong, but weak and pale.Now I helped him, as hed helped meA debt to repay, no charge, no fee. A. Alene Centanni. Just throw your best, and throw with zest,And remember the follow-through,And practice whenever you get the chanceIf you know whats good for you! It's A Wonderful Life: Cricket and Heaven - Blogger 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. He knew that you were suffering,He knew you were in pain;He knew that you would neverGet well on earth again. The lazy float that controls the boatAnd makes the swing quite true,And gives that rest that the oarsman blestAs he drives the blade right through. Poems about people who liked a drink in a healthy way. So I praise this car and its wobbly ride And Im gosh darn grateful that Im still inside. city of san diego street classification map; blackrock russell 2000 index fund g1; 3610 atlantic ave, long beach, ca 90807; eternal water heater lawsuit; A series of fortunate events July 20, 2020. 25 Beautiful Non-Religious Funeral Readings from Literature - Stylist 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. 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. Love is like a game of cards,you win, you pass, you lose.Life is like a poker game,depends which bluff you choose. To the pearly gates of Heaven, where they will usher you in. 65 p Addeddate 2007-05-31 17:58:40 Bookplateleaf 4 Call number SRLF:LAGE-3653666 Camera 5D Stalactites hang from abovetheir beauty alone is enoughwalls covered in draperiesmillions of years of Earths memories. The warm crowd faintly clapped, So be kind to your partners and dont mind their cheek.For its only a game Oh! I . You can click on a topic of interest, and youll then find a collection of readings on that topic and a short summary of each, and you can click or scroll again to be taken to the full text. And when hed finished speakinHe turned back toward the windowCrushed out his cigaretteFaded off to sleepAnd somewhere in the darknessThe gambler he broke evenBut in his final wordsI found an ace that I could keep. Always with that memory of failure.Always with the possibility of more. Oh me! Short Poems For Funerals: Simple Messages For The Grieving While working for Birmingham 2022 Commonwealth Games, I wrote a series of quintets - something of an ode for each sport at the Games. Dont judge me, for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. Dont judge me for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. Originally conceived before the 2023 UCI World Championships were POC Omne Lite and Ultra helmets, Pole Voima ID, Bell Full-10 helmet, Cane Creek ILG2 shocks, and Focus Jam/Sam 2s. Im now at peace,Life battles done,Ive faced the foeAnd I have won. Whilst it's fictional and set in the 1920s it neatly sums up all that's good, quirky and, dare I say it, English about the game when played at grass roots village level. In life, he found his greatest joyIn this game of queens and kings,Now, as he rests beneath the soil,We remember all of his wins. Thousands of bells chimed overheadTheir lovely tone shaping my thoughtsSplendid new lands danced in my sightBut with ten thousand bells as my guideI would never be lost. t206 walter johnson portrait; family jealous of my success Don't know if your F-in-Law was a church go-er but a good single line quote from the great Dickie Bird is below "Nid siocled yw popeth brown." Immediately they,vie for position.Victory and glory,is their common mission. This traverse may the poorest takeWithout oppress of toll;How frugal is the chariotThat bears a human soul! ThanksDad, for teaching us to be strong,ThanksDad, for showing us whats right and wrong.ThanksDad, for giving us enough love and shelter,ThanksDad, for sharing with us our tears and laughter.ThanksDad, for teaching us to stand on our own,ThanksDad, for all the love and care you have shown.ThanksDad, for giving us support and inspiration,ThanksDad, for guiding us in our decision-making.ThanksDad, for being responsible, kind, and hardworking,ThanksDad, for lending us your time when were concentrating.ThanksDad, for loving us from deep inside your heart,ThanksDad, for hoping to be with us when we were apart.ThanksDad, for showing us how a realDadshould be,ThanksDad, for always caring for mum, my brother, and me.What more can we ask from a great father like you,For special fathers like you are so far between and few.ThanksDad, for showing us unconditional caring and love,We hope,Dad, that you can read and hear this from above. Some light up rooms with their laughterOthers brighten the world with a smile.Many will make you feel happyBy sitting nearby for a while. Fossils ,storms,eroded coast.The shadow that I miss the most.A lonely voice, lost to the waves.Singing in a hidden cave.A silent humupon the shore,a voice thats never heard,no more.Maybe on some other plain,somewhere lost inside my brain.Words transcending from the grave,somewhere lost inside my brain. Fortifying The Spirits - Michael Ashby - A humorous poem . 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. Poems for those who made a career moulding and shaping wood, or who simply enjoyed it as a pastime. Poems for petrol heads, or simply for those who enjoyed a Sunday drive. 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. Oh life! You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your backOr you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on. Twilight and evening bell,And after that the dark!And may there be no sadness of farewell,When I embark. So, if this is the last timeWe speak, then may I say,Life with you was good, my friend,And Ill see you on the 19th one day. Poems for those who had a passion for karate, judo, kung fu, jiu jitsu, and other forms of martial arts. I hope that you will be thereTo wish me on my wayIts not a journey you can join inIts not your time today. When you were a boy I dreamedOf the man you would become;But life had other plans for youWith challenges more than one. Few things are as fleetingAs footprints in the sand;Sometimes we walk aloneAnd sometimes hand in hand. Walk a little slower Daddy,said a child so small.Im following in your footstepsand I dont want to fall. Members of the Club stand post,Proud brothers in the wind;Shaded eyes the tears disguise,And loss they feel within. cricket poems for funerals. Gambling: a lie appliedto organized theft. MORE THYME! 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. For it matters not, how much we own,The cars, the house, the cash;What matters is how we live and loveAnd how we spend our dash.