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! 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. Its always opening time in heavenAnd the alcohol doesnt go to your headIt floats around in ones etherAnd fortifies your spirit instead. Words have that kind of poweryou remind the clothes that remain in the drawer, arms stubbornlyfolded across the chest, or slung across the backs of chairs. It pictures death as an old friend, rather than something to be feared, which might be of some comfort to those in mourning. )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! There were a couple of muckers who mixed up the cement,they were forever subbing so they never paid their rent. M. K. Paul A verse asking the question of what exactly a fathers role is in life. Remember me as I used to be.Think of me; remember my smile,The love we shared; linger awhile.I am at peace now, I am me.At rest for all eternity. Poems for those who were keen on loosing an arrow from a bow. I am a double award-nominated Family and Funeral Celebrant covering the entire UK, and would be happy to help you commemorate in a meaningful and personal way. We are such stuffAs dreams are made on, and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep. Now it comforts us to knowyoure with the angels up above.While in our hearts we hold you closeSurrounded by our love. Beer Is Just Fine - Roy Pett - A humorous verse deliberating over the wonders of beer. crunch! Im sorry, friends, that I cant be with you here today.If youre gathered reading this, it means Ive passed away.But if I were there, Id tell you not to shed a tear or frown.Id tell you just to simply say, Another Biker has gone down.. All through the swing he hears the boat singAs she glides on her flying track,And he gathers aft to strike the craftWith a ringing bell note crack. Poems for someone who had a full and successful life. 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. Well always rememberthat special smile,that caring heart,that warm embrace,you always gave us.You being therefor Grandma and usthrough good and bad times,no matter what.Well always rememberyou Grampa becausetherell never be another oneto replace you in our hearts,and the love we will alwayshave for you. A Boy and His Dad by Edgar A. The LORD is my caddie; I shall not whiff.He maketh me to drive straight down green fairways:He leadeth me over the still waters.He restoreth my swing:He leadeth me in the paths of truthfulness for the games sake.Yea, though I pitch through the valley of the shadow of the woods,I will fear no bunkers: for thou art with me;Thy wedge and thy putter they comfort me.Thou preparest a line before me in the presence of mind hazards:Thou anointest my stroke with confidence;the cup will not be runneth over.Surely birdies and eagles shall follow me all the rounds of my life:and I will dwell in the clubhouse of the LORD for ever. And if Im asked to bowl I prayThe ball leaves my hand true,So whether or not wickets comeIll know that theyre my due. They say that times were tough thenThat money was very tightBut I remember my childhoodAnd I know that cant be right. The morning mist had lifted,And the sun was shining bright.I poured myself a cup of tea,And sat and watched the light. Funeral Poems For Cricketers "A Cricketer's Last Boundary" A CRICKETER'S LAST BOUNDARY Weeping willows formed an honour guard For the cricket ball writ with a noble name A team of ten, which had once been eleven Would never be the same side again No bails united the forlorn stumps Since this wicket had fallen some days ago Remember me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by dayYou tell me of . "Dead" by Winifred Mary Letts. Just know our love goes deep and strongWell forget you neverThe child we had, but never hadAnd yet will have forever! 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. No grand schemes,They passed me by.I knew the brook,The hills, the sky. I will not cast the first stoneI have none in my handEven though your life at timesWas not how I had planned. Cried and yelled at the moonand crushed nightmaresDrank together and helped each otherback to bed. I've picked 10 of my favourite funeral verses including a special funeral poem for a Dad. And all the while Im pouring drinksFor all my treasured punters:Lawyers, doctors, teachers, shrinks,Accountants and headhunters. Addiction Took Another Soul Natasha Henry A sombre poem reflecting on the harm that addiction can cause.Its Me Jacqueline A. Grieve A poem read on behalf of deceased addict, which asks their loved ones for forgiveness.My Son Marie Antoinette A poem written for a mother as a message to her son, who lost the fight against addiction.Pray, Dont Find Fault Rama Muthukrishnan A poem urging people not to judge those who go through hard times. Your love of Gods soil has passed on to your kin; the stories flow like fine wine,Wash off your work boots in the puddle left by blessed rain one final time. It was the way he moved that made him seemSo much a part of what he did;In every somersault and cartwheelHe seemed to turn himself to air. For though from out our bourn of Time and PlaceThe flood may bear me far,I hope to see my Pilot face to faceWhen I have crossed the bar. A family is a placeTo cry, and laugh and vent frustrationsTo ask for help, to tease and yellTo be touched and hugged and smiled at.A family is people who care when you are sadWho love you no matter whatWho share your triumphs and dont expect you to be perfectJust growing with honesty in your own direction.A family is a circle where we learn to like ourselvesWhere we learn to make good decisionsWhere we learn to think before we doWhere we learn patience and table mannersAnd respect for other peopleA family is a place where we share ideasWhere we listen and are listened to Where we learn the rules of life to prepare us for the world.The world is a place where anything can happenAnd if we grow up in a loving family We are ready for the world. The fire tone rang. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding. Great souls die andour reality, bound tothem, takes leave of us.Our souls,dependent upon theirnurture,now shrink, wizened.Our minds, formedand informed by theirradiance, fall away.We are not so much maddenedas reduced to the unutterable ignorance ofdark, cold caves. - Navjot Sidhu 8 0 Add a comment cricket poems for funerals. In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,Many hours had he spent while a boy;And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to knowAnd to share both his grief and his joy,For it struck 24 when he entered at the doorWith a blooming and beautiful bride;But it stopped short never to go again When the old man died. But now their time on earth is doneAnd we gather to say goodbyeWell remember them very fondlyAs we look up at the night sky. We sit a whileWe guess bird namesWe look them upWe watch bird games. Dont be sad for me todayFor me please do not weepCall upon your memoriesThey are yours to keep. Langston Hughes remarks: As Befits a Man. 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. I know now you are with meI feel your caressIll go on living for you,I could do nothing less. In the darkness of the theatreWhere the screen would light up brightThey found solace, joy, and comfortIn the stories that played each night. Every driver,maximum speed desires.Each sharp turn,burns their tires. Though your heart wont let the sadnessSimply slide awayThe echoes will diminishEven though the memories stay. They are not the same. Cave of wonderscaverns so deepthrough vast rooms I wanderso many secrets to keep. 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. Heaven by Rupert Brooke. 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. Poems for those people who enjoyed collecting fossils, or, indeed, were amateur or professional palaeontologists. document.getElementById( "ak_js_1" ).setAttribute( "value", ( new Date() ).getTime() ); Scattering Ashes UK The Chapel 11 Seale Hayne Newton Abbot Devon TQ12 6NQ Email: info@scattering-ashes.co.uk Tel: 01626 798198. These are my footprints, so perfect and so small.These tiny footprints, never touched the ground at all.Not one tiny footprint, for now I have my wings.These tiny footprints were meant for other things.You will hear my tiny footprints, in the patter of the rain.Gentle drops like angels tears, of joy and not from pain.You will see my tiny footprints, in each butterflies lazy dance.Ill let you know Im with you, if you give me just a chance.You will see my tiny footprints, in the rustle of the leaves.I will whisper names into the wind, and call each one that grieves.Most of all, these tiny footprints, are found in mummys heart,cause even though Im gone now, well never truly part. Cannot be used in conjunction with other offers, or when switching memberships), Contact UsPrivacyForum RulesClassifieds RulesLink RemovalNewsletter SettingsAdvertising, Viewing 10 posts - 1 through 10 (of 10 total). 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! 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. Poems for those who suffered from dementia during their life. And though they may be gone now, Their love will always stay, A beacon shining bright and true, To guide us on our way. Remember with every stitchAnd every knot tiedLook how youve all grownTogether where we call home. He never looks for praisesHes never one to boastHe just goes on quietly workingFor those he loves the most.His dreams are seldom spokenHis wants are very fewAnd most of the time his worriesWill go unspoken too.Hes there A firm foundationThrough all our storms of lifeA sturdy hand to hold toIn times of stress and strife.A true friend we can turn toWhen times are good or badOne of our greatest blessings,The man that we call Dad. They laugh and have a kick around. A Legacy Of Stitches Sandra E. Andersen A poem highlighting what is left behind when a skilled knitter dies.Clickety Clack Robyn OConnell A poem lauding the knitted creations that the deceased made.Rows Of Stitches Ilene Bauer A short and humorous poem about the excitement of watching someone knit.Silent Needles Jacqui Alexander A lovely rhythmic poem about the creations of a knitter.With Tender Loving Care Pam Braden A touching poem about the comfort a knitted item brings. On a warm summers eveningOn a train bound for nowhereI met up with the gamblerWe were both too tired to sleepSo we took turns a-starinOut the window at the darknessThe boredom overtook usAnd he began to speak. 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. With my lantern I decide not to go deeperas I stand at the doorwayfeeling much like a gatekeeperwishing it was forever that I could staybut now home is where I must make my way. They smoked, and talked of stocks and shares, Your fingerprints are on my heart.Fingerprints that teach me about caring.Fingerprints that teach me about love.Fingerprints that teach me about courage.Fingerprints that teach me about hope.Fingerprints that bring me closer to my loved ones.Fingerprints that bring me closer to myself.In the time I cared for you my whole life changed never to be the same againAll this from tiny fingerprints that touch my heart.You will live in my heart forever never to be forgotten.I will always love you.You are my child. 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. So as we lay them down to restWell watch one final filmIn honour of their memoryAnd the love they had for them. Tiny Angel rest your wingsSit with me for awhile.How I long to hold your hand,And see your tender smile. 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. The other bingo players follow you with their eyes,As you happily claim that winning prize,Just the thought of bingo and the chance to win,Makes you smile one great big bingo grin! Im climbing a mountainI feel like a bird in the air,Im gliding and soaringAnd feel like I havent a care. Ring out the old, ring in the new,Ring, happy bells, across the snow:The year is going, let him go;Ring out the false, ring in the true. You can also find an index of topics at the top of this page. Now, and with no need of tears,Here they leave me, full of years,Leave me to my quiet restIn the region of the blessed. Feels good as chain clunks from one socket to the next and the ticking whirring of freewheel and zipping noise of fast tires on flat asphalt. Musically, perhaps a bit sentimental, "When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease" by Roy Harper. I will miss youOh so much.So will allThe lives thatYou haveTouched. I believe miracles really do come true.No one deserves one more than you. E ven in my darkest hours, you were always there for me. When we kids were hurt or cryingWed run to find her lapShed wipe the falling tears awayWith a bit of apron flap. Hey, you guys, dont feel guilty,It was just my time to go.I can see youre all feeling sad,I can see the tears still flow. If the world were full of hippiesthered be nothing left to proveexcept peace and understandingand a little bit of groove, No-one would be homelessLike many live todayWed build beautiful communeswhere anyone could stay, Together wed make musicto the beat of mother earththered be no fighting or warEveryone sharing equal worth, Wed grow our own vegetables and create trinkets to sellWed open up our mindsbreak free from our shell, Every colour and every racewould teach one anotherwed become a united familyevery sister, every brother, Wed bless all gods creaturesshow respect for the landGive free hugs to everyoneopenminded to understand. Today, the road all runners come,Shoulder-high we bring you home,And set you at your threshold down,Townsman of a stiller town. Popular Poems for Funerals & Non-religious Readings. And you will see. Remember how we made our special dateSame day of the week and at the same placeBehaving like young teenagers we wereTho wed been married many a year. 6. But a heaven is easier made of nothing at allThan the earth regained, and still and sole withinThe spin of worlds, with a gesture sure and nobleHe reels that heaven in,Landing it ball by ball,And trades it all for a broom, a plate, a table. 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. Dedicated To Our Fallen Heroes Katharine Blohm A poem written for the Clearview Volunteer Fire Department.Fallen Rick Hoffman Jr. A lament to a fallen firefighter who served his community proudly.Fallen Brother anon A poem dedicated to a firefighter called Chuck that is apt for any fire man or woman.The Firefighters Last Call William Robbins A poem about the final act of a brave firefighter.A Firefighters Last Words Michael Ashby A rousing call to appreciate the lifes work of a firefighter.Heroes Gone anon A poem filled with sadness and pride from a fallen firefighter to his colleagues.To Be A Fireman Edward F. Crocker A short poem about the how being a firefighter is a noble calling. In the grey summer garden I shall find youWith day-break and the morning hills behind you.There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings;And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings.Not from the past youll come, but from that deepWhere beauty murmurs to the soul asleep:And I shall know the sense of life re-bornFrom dreams into the mystery of mornWhere gloom and brightness meet. You were a blessing to us allyou were a special child.And were so glad God sent youto be with us awhile. This is the life of a dancer en pointeRisking the health of her feet, legs and jointsJust for that one perfect moment on stageWhere the ballerina stands tall and all are amazed. A beautiful garden now stands alone,missing the one who nurtured it,But now she is gone. That you are proud of us and that we will be together again. 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. Pirouette, PirouetteDancers silhouettePracticing at duskDedication is a must. Anyone can stand by you when you are right,but a true Friend will stand by you even when you are wrong!A simple friend identifies himself when he calls.A real friend doesnt have to.A simple friend opens a conversation with a full news bulletin on his life.A real friend says, Whats new with you?A simple friend thinks the problems you whine about are recent.A real friend says, Youve been whining about the same thing for 14 years.Get off your duff and do something about it.A simple friend has never seen you cry.A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.A simple friend doesnt know your parents first names.A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.A real friend comes early to help you cook and stays late to help you clean.A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.A real friend could blackmail you with it.A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you have an argument.A real friend knows that its not a friendship until after youve had a fight.A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.A real friend expects to always be there for you! Poems perfect for those who liked to while away the hours engrossed in some table-top magic. My joy increased, I felt you growas weeks went quickly by Then one blessed day, I felt you moveA tiny butterfly. Poems for those who loved building and rebuilding marvellous creations with those famous little bricks.