cricket poems for funerals cricket poems for funerals

But look at the family,Created by only two.How many weve become,And all because of you. We will miss each other for awhile,But you will come and bring your smile.That wont be long you will see,Till were together you and me. Half Mast Mark Gregory A poem for someone for whom flags held great meaning in their life.He Flew Them With Pride Mark Gregory A humorous limerick about a man who was obsessed with flags.Under The Flag Robert Longley A poem less about a flag and more about a soldier that offered his service to it. I have spent the night in the watchhouse My head was the size of three So I went and asked the chemistTo fix up a drink for me;And he brewed it from various bottlesWith soda and plenty of ice,With something that smelt like lemon,And something that seemed like spice. 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. Here are some suggestions for anyone wishing to choose a moving poem or verse for their loved one's funeral. A Long Cup Of Tea Michael Ashby A humorous poem about not dying, but going for a long cuppa instead.A Moment Of Tranquility Mark Gregory A poem about the inner peace found when enjoying a cup of tea.Tendrils Of Steam Mark Gregory A thoughtful poem equating the rising steam from a teacup to the spirit of life. The windows blurry, the odometers broke,The tires are bare; whos driving this car? Although we fell and stumbled at times,all those hills were necessary climbs. So weve already said, Goodbye,To the person that we knew.The person that we truly loved,The person that was you. Below are the all-time best Rugby poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. 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. I suppose, one day, I will be dead and go to meet my maker,So have this note set in my hand, there for the undertaker,Dont dress me in a shroud of white or rouge my cheeks all red,It is not right, to look a fright, een though youre stone cold dead.Give me a brand new five pound note and a Visa credit card,I want to buy a proper plot in old St Peters yard,And as I sit upon my cloud and look down at the earth,Ill watch you use my worldly goods for festival and mirth,And that will make me smile a smile, and have a laugh quite hearty,To hear you say, the buggers dead, lets have ourselves a party. Rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, and birdsDogs, and cats, and everything furredAn interest in creatures in others he stirredAnd through illness, he went on, undeterred. Day after day, week after weekSo many tales does she acquaintRemaining focused in the task at handBut with the patience of a saint. And as I grow older its life I suppose But more and more things just get right up my nose!Like young mums with their kids and their stupid wee dolliesWho chat, blocking the aisles with their damned shopping trolleys.I barge my way past, just as rough as I can,So the bitches will know Im a grumpy old man. Let us faith and hope receiveThe rose still grows beyond the wall,Scattering fragrance far and wideJust as it did in days of yore,Just as it did on the other side,Just as it will forever-more. 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. Cried and yelled at the moonand crushed nightmaresDrank together and helped each otherback to bed. So I praise this car and its wobbly ride And Im gosh darn grateful that Im still inside. Its 3 am and youre on my mind,I just cant sleep tonight,I try but toss and turn and cry,Its not fair, or just or right!I close my eyes whisper your name,Into the dark still air,My sweetest child my Angel,This pain I cannot compare.Missing you is such a huge part,Of my life now of my day,Every waking moment youre there,On my mind now to stay.When I sleep youre in my dreams,Calling out so distant so small,I feel you slipping away from me,I just cant get to you at all.Then I wake up bathed in terror,Its like losing you all over again,My heart racing the tears falling,It hurts so very much then.But sometimes when I dream of you,Im holding you in my embrace,Breathing in every inch of you,Gazing into your darling face.This stays with me when I waken,I carry it in my heart,Watching you grow, seeing you change,Even though we are apart.Your name the trees whisper to me,The wind it sings your tune,I know youre there, youre with me,As we gaze at the waning moon.Hold my hand My Angel,As we gaze into the nights wild,These twilight hours are mine and yours,My Angel, my darling my child. 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. 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. The Glentress Masterplan sets out redevelopment proposals that includes new trails, improved facilities, and some new accommodation options in the area. Unknown Sure, luck means a lot in cricket. I seek the West,and fields and mountains ever blest. The poet laureate, Simon Armitage, has released a poem to mark the death of Queen Elizabeth II. Made from the earth by loving handsThrough heat and rain prepared,To face the joys and storms of lifeAnd treasured moments shared. My pencil is ready; The boxes are bare. As eighteen flags flew at half mast, andGlasses were soberly raised highThe latest member was having a ballAt the golf course in the sky, Freed from the gravity of the situationThe first tee shot soared through spaceBringing a wondrous, beaming smileTo a kind, down to earth face, Surrounded by old club friendsOnce thought never to be seen againThe infinity course beckoned aheadEighteen holes were for mere mortal men. My little girl has gone,but to her little boy I will continue to sing our song. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from sea; And the hunter home from the hill. She puts it to her lips with ease,just hurting deep inside.Tried to hide the pain away,to get that one last high.She sees the lights over head,one by one they pass,going down an empty hall,theyre trying to save her fast.She hears them say, oh no, weve failed,weve lost another one.This addiction took another soul,it started out with fun.Now her friends and family sit above her flower covered grave.She floats above and cries to herself,all I did was crave.Now theres a hand reaching for me.Its time to say goodbye.This disease just got one more.Promise me, dont cry. Alone on my tin pony,to the heavens Ive been called,but fret not my dear loved ones,Im not lonely here at all. And so we meet in remembrance,Of a mind so fit and true.Were here to pay our last respectsTo say that, We love you. Well, it isn't. "A Meeting" by Edith Wharton. Poems for those who grew up in the age of flower power and truly embraced it. You make me creative which makes me fun!You made me realise that you are not fun sometimes.You are tuff and mean when I step on you.You make me happy to see you new and cool in the store or online.You are colourful and small but together you are majestically massive.Sometimes I misplace you, but when Im focused I find you soon.You are fun when you are together, but not when you are done.My dog thinks you are food crunch! The Funeral Bell Francis Duggan A sombre poem about the feelings that arise upon hearing a funeral bell.Ring Out, Wild Bells Alfred Lord Tennyson A wonderful piece about ringing out the bad and ringing in the good.Villanelle Of Bells Keith Douglas A lengthy but beautifully poetic piece about bells guiding our way in life. As I Look Up To The Skies Above anon A sorrowful poem about how the world is a shade darker after losing someone.Requiem Robert Louis Stevenson A beautiful poem about acceptance, and being laid to rest under the night sky.The Sombre Astronomer Michael Humphries A short poem of longing to be with our lost loved ones again.There Is A New Star Shining In The Sky Tonight Sarah Hartwell Some prose reflecting upon the stars in the night sky. Poems for those who enjoyed the challenges of rock climbing, hiking, and fell-walking. Poems for those who discovered a love of dance, either watching or participating, throughout their life. For you can feel the engine, as the revs rise at your command,Feeling the lusty thrust of power, that answers your demand,How the clutch feels underfoot, as each gear is selected,The steering too, how it responds, to where it is directed. Tiny Angel rest your wingsSit with me for awhile.How I long to hold your hand,And see your tender smile. Three cheers for firefighters!HIP HIP HOORAY!HIP HIP HOORAY!HIP HIP HOORAY! If I brightened your path, then let it bea small contribution from my loved ones and me;now sadly I leave you and travel alonethrough a mystic veil to the great unknown,with such beautiful memoriesthat will forever bethe way that I hope youll remember me. Fly Like A Bird Javon Evans A poem detailing how wonderful and freeing it would be to fly.In Memoriam Victoria Bruce A poem encouraging mourners to think of the deceased in natures finer details.No Fear Of Flying anon A message from the deceased that they are no afraid to fly or to die. She says youve only left the room,You havent gone away.But I really miss you, GranddadAnd the games we used to play. The Cricket Bag concludes with one of his poems which Third Man hopes no one will mind him passing on. Author Unknown; adapted from the original by Lord Byron. Go on with the day,go on with the night,enjoy the richeslife has to offer. You graced us with your presence and charm,And your love for fashion always set you apart.Now, as you rest, your beauty remains,Forever stylish and chic, without any pains. If thou wouldst win, and not thy fortune rue,Subdue thyself yet to thyself be true. A golden heart stopped beatingHard-working hands put to restGod broke our hearts to prove to usHe only takes the best. 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.