We know you can still hear us, Dad,So please know that this is true:Everything we are todayIs all because of YOU. We travelled the path of our lives side by sideBut this path you walked on your ownTo a world where no pain and no suffering resideWhile I stay in this world alone. When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease - Wikipedia And now I have another child,perfect in every way;I know Ive seen that smile before,and this time, its here to stay. Nothing is over until we decide it is! The boxer stands with his gloves at the readyHis gait sure and steadyHis eyes aware and to the foreHis mind on the bout and nothing more, But deep within, and on his face writtenAre the many scars of a life hard-bittenAnd while neer shy of a hard-fought fightThere is no longer within the feeling of delight, His face has too oft been made to payBy an opponent better on the dayAnd though within beats the heart of a lionHis poor pummelled body has given up tryin, And while a fighter to his very coreJust the smell of gloves now he does abhorYet, still he stands, eyes puffed and blood galoreStill ready to wage a pugilists war. Deeper down I goso unknown steps belowexploring further than anyones beenthere seems to be no end. I would be wearing a favourite dressYou as always looking your usual bestFeeling like Cinderella at the BallWith the most handsome Prince Charming of all. 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. For the rock outwears the man,And cruel Time wears out the best,But memories were made upon those stones,Before you were laid to rest. Now Grandmas gone to heaven,But her quilts will long remain,Their beauty and their warmth live on,A comforting, loving refrain. The Cricket Field Fortunate indeed this field; It's destiny is not to yield A harvest made with wheat and corn From rutting plough or harrow born, But cleared of lump & stump & thicket Is set aside for playing cricket. I farmed the land,I tramped the wood,These are the thingsI understood. My cards are all rotten and I have forgottenWhos played and whats trumps and whats gone on my right!So for now its all over Im off to the back woodIm bidding good-bye to Gerber and Blackwood. He will hold you in his arms and the angels will sing. So rest now my beautiful Nanna,Ill never forget how much you have done.So until my hand meets yours again,Sleep now in the sun. Sometimes the mist overhangs my path,And blackening clouds about me cling.But, oh, I have a magic wayTo turn the gloom to cheerful dayI softly sing. There . I imagine you dancingSkipping among the cloudsHappily singing with the angelsLooking down upon the crowds. We never had the chance to play,To laugh, to rock, to wiggle.We long to hold you, touch you nowAnd listen to you giggle. Bird Watching Amy Ludwig Vanderwater A poem highlighting the joys and excitement of bird watching.Fly Celine Dion Words originally sung that reveal the sorrow yet relief of setting someone free from this Earth. But you think I am goneYou dont see me, but I can see youWhatever the problems, I will help you get through. 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. William Shakespeare. Alzheimers Dick Underwood A touching poem about how Alzheimers often takes away the mind before the body.I Am At Peace Jennifer Alderton A short verse accepting the peace and freedom that comes with death after illness.The Long Goodbye Ellen Miller A verse reminding us that the person we have lost was not defined by their disease.Those Hands That Once Held Mine Dean Harrison A beautiful verse for a son about his mother and her Alzheimers.Two Mothers Remembered Joann Snow Duncanson Remembering a mother who changed due to illness. Crossword Blindness anon A poem about the struggles of figuring out that one clue that has you stumped.My Pencil Is Ready Ilene Bauer A poem about the joys of puzzling, written for National Crossword Puzzle Day.My Trusty Pencil Ilene Bauer Another poem by Bauer about the necessities of a pencil while doing crosswords. 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. I . Daughter, life is not the samenow youre no longer here,but our love for you is still strongand will remain year after year. Funeral Poems | Popular Funeral Verses | Dignity Funerals And we must play on. And so we meet again today,To toast your bodys end.For it was true and faithful,Until right at the end. Cricket And Poetry: A History | All Out Cricket | Culture Special - Wisden She wore her earringsLike a queenWith regal graceAnd a silent dignityThat only a womanWho knows who she isCan possess. I have always neededthe solace of storiesthe companionship of charactersthe escape of other worldsthe wisdom of wordsthe guidance of good writing. I pray the wickets well-prepared,And that it doesnt stick,That all my shots find gaps And that the outfields fairly quick. 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. I look at the clues That are luring me there. We will see him in the summer rainHe will ride upon the windAnd when our path is beaten downhis memory will pick us up again. But every life that ever forms,Or ever comes to be,Touches the world in some small wayFor all eternity. Luther F. Beecher A verse comparing a ships journey to the idea of death.Psalm 23 Sailors Edition anon A revised version of Psalm 23 adapted to include sailing metaphors.Sailors Rest D.R. And the bar stayed open all day. Teasing, rolling, need a little clip.Hairspray, blow dry, one more snip.Color, rinse, perm after perm.For a hairdresser, work-a-holic is our term. Always Been A Reader Mark Gregory A poem about the qualities of books and how they will endure after death.The Last Book Mark Gregory A poem about the miracle of life and being a part of it, even just for a while.The Library Mark Gregory A lovely poem about the magic of libraries, perfect for someone who worked in them.Roads Go Ever On J. R. R. Tolkien The classic from Tolkiens Lord of the Rings, perfect for a book-lover.Sitting In An Armchair Mark Gregory A book about a female reader in a chair being transported off to another land.There Is No Frigate Like A Book Emily Dickinson A short poem about how books carry us away to lands unknown. 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. Day after day, week after weekSo many tales does she acquaintRemaining focused in the task at handBut with the patience of a saint. I know now you are with meI feel your caressIll go on living for you,I could do nothing less. Walk a little slower Daddy,said a child so small.Im following in your footstepsand I dont want to fall. Like the car he drives,He will pass you in the fast lane of life,Like the blaring music from his car,He loves life and a good joke,Like the roaring engine of his car,His temper will take off like a racer to the finish line,With his fast car he ran straight through everyones heart,When his engine went he went along with his fast car to heaven,Going fast as he could down the road of eternal sleep,While he lies in his eternal sleep never to wake his fast car lies with him! Mother, you were just a girl, So many years ago. 20 Beautiful Funeral Poems For Dad To Help Comfort You Wonderful wood full of carbon is ecologicalThe carpenter stands back in his craftsmans callWorking with your hands shows a skill so goodAs he works he magic cutting and shaping the wood. I will go forward with my head up high.It might be hard, I cannot lie. The photograph above was unearthed from the countless images to be found on the web. Roads go ever ever on,Over rock and under tree,By caves where never sun has shone,By streams that never find the sea;Over snow by winter sown,And through the merry flowers of June,Over grass and over stone,And under mountains in the moon. 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. If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelids soundless blink,The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alightUpon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think,To him this must have been a familiar sight., If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm,When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn,One may say, He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm,But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.. Carry On Shauna Danskin A highly poetic piece which urges mourners to look forward with hope.Dear Friends I Go anon A call to look forward and stay positive in the face of death.Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep anon A popular poem to encourage mourners not to weep, but to look ahead.He Is Gone / She Is Gone David Harkins A poem urging mourners to have fond memories of the person theyve lost.I Am Always With You anon A verse reflecting upon the idea that our lost loved ones are always with us.One At Rest anon A call to think of the deceased as simply resting. All evil men intent on evil thingfalter, for in their cold unready earsbells in the town alight with springmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. Finding You In Beauty Walter Rinder A beautiful poem about the echoes of our loved ones in the beauty around us.The Gardener Mark Gregory A rhythmic poem about the work of a gardener and the fruits of his labour.The Gentle Gardener Edgar Albert Guest A poem about leaving nothing but beauty behind when you pass away.The Glory Of The Garden Rudyard Kipling A poem comparing England to a garden, and praising those who tend it.Meet You At The Gate Barbara Bailey A lovely, slightly religious poem lamenting the loss of a female gardener.The Noblest Work Of Man Mark Gregory A poem urging us not to eschew labour, but to add beauty to the world. Cricket themed reading for Dads funeral - Singletrack World Magazine A Bowlers Prayer anon A short, light-hearted, slightly religious verse praising the game of ten-pin bowling. My grandfather said that of those he could hire,Not a servant so faithful he found,For it wasted no time, and had but one desire At the close of each week to be wound.And it kept in its place not a frown upon its face,And its hands never hung by its side,But it stopped short never to go again When the old man died. Last updated 8 th October 2021. Weve travelled miles upon this earthWithout home behind the carThe fun and laughter we have sharedAs we travelled long and far. 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. She might have carried eggs in from the chicken coop outside.Whatever chore she used it for, she did them all with pride.When Grandma went to heaven, God said she now could rest.Im sure the apron that she chose, was her Sunday best. Each one was pieced with tender care,With threads of love and light,A labour of love taking time and skill,For each quilt that lay in sight. You can also find an index of topics at the top of this page. Understand?Number one in all the landSuperhuman, super-spannedIn control and in commandIm the man, Im the manThe one and only goalie with my expanding hands! Fly, fly do not fearDont waste a breath, dont shed a tearYour heart is pure, your soul is freeBe on your way, dont wait for meAbove the universe youll climbOn beyond the hands of timeThe moon will rise, the sun will setBut I wont forget. I Love Rugby. You always brought the sunshineand you brightened up our world,spreading happiness and kindnesssince you were a little girl. And left in sepulchres of stoneThe dead He buried there.But they are not dry bones alone;I see them as they were. White wings will carry you and you will be flown. My hands are clenched around chrome barsthe engines rumble sounds so sweet.I twist the throttle with my palmand roar off down the street. I have always been a readera devourer of printI have loved the musty smell of librariesthe heft of a book in my handthe sound of pages turningthe sight of words under a flashlightin the dark. This second rose represents our courage.To confront our sorrow,To comfort each other,To change our lives. They dipThey soarThey dart right byWe wonder how it feels to fly. I dont know when it started,Or how it all began,But God created families,As only our Lord can. The teams. The Dash Linda Ellis A verse pondering on making the most of the years between birth and death.If Rudyard Kipling Kiplings famous poem about what it means to be a man.A Life Well Lived anon A poem for someone who lived life to its fullest.Man In The Mirror Dale Wimbrow A reflective piece suggesting the most important opinion of you is your own.A Song Of Living Amelia Josephine Burr A verse which suggests loving life and living it fully leads to no regrets.Success Bessie Anderson Stanley A reflection upon what it means to be successful in life.Successful Life Eugene Grinman A poem pondering over what it means to have lived a successful life.The Time Is Now Bettina Van Vaerenbergh A poem encouraging us all to live well, and live in the now.When Great Trees Fall Maya Angelou A poem in free verse about how we feel when great people die. The four-inch beam has filled the best with fear.They leap and land, then totter and some fall.The lines around the floor seem oft so near,That tiny step outside can lose it all. Dont curse me, for I have done you no wrong.I only want the acceptance I have needed for so long. The funeral bell is ringing for one, a last goodbye,And on the clock of our mortality, the hours just seem to fly,Respect to the departed is all that we can pay,And for each and every one of us, a final night and day. 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. Im just a farmer,Plain and simple.Not of a royal birthBut rather, a worker of the earth. A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip There is a glorious fellowship!Father and son and the open skyAnd the white clouds lazily drifting by,And the laughing stream as it runs alongWith the clicking reel like a martial song,And the father teaching the youngster gayHow to land a fish in the sportsmans way. or hanging inside the dark closet. It wasnt easy watching youOf that I wont denyAnd Im not ashamed to sayThat there were times I cried. That you are herethat life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. Are the fire exits clear?Id really like to keep you safeWhile youre all sitting here, I do hope some practical jokerDidnt dress me up in my fireproof gearIf Im at a crematoriumWe might be a long time here, The graveyard would be a safer betWith gods sprinklers shedding a tearNow to end my last shiftI dont want to waste your precious time, My deepest love to dearest familyColleagues and friends of mineSo please send me off in a blaze of gloryA fitting end to a firefighters story. Tell her I promise to see her again someday.When that will be, I really cant say.I promise to make up for the time thats passed,To hold her and comfort her in my arms at last. So tell me nowAnd tell me true.So I can sayIm here for you.. Her expertise is such thatI just really cant compare it,But best of all is when shes done,Then I will get to wear it! They who danceFind infinite golden floorsBeneath their feet. Not just a freeway drive, but each outing on a mission,And not a veering trundle, but a task of deep precision,Not the tedium of traffic, relief at the arriving,The thrill is in the journey, and the passion in the driving. Mother wore an ample apronTo cover her clean dress.Shed tell you thats what it was forIf you asked her, I would guess. The free bird thinks of another breezeand the trade winds soft through the sighing treesand the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawnand he names the sky his own. 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. Think of me as one at rest,for me you should not weepI have no pain no troubled thoughtsfor I am just asleepThe living thinking me that was,is now forever stillAnd life goes on without me now,as time forever will. So, when your eulogy is being readWith your lifes actions to rehash,Would you be proud of the things they sayAbout how you spent YOUR dash? Cricket is played by two teams of eleven players and two umpires. 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. Although your jokes were not that funny,And you seldom spent your money,Last to the bar and first to leave,That youre gones hard to believe. When a butterfly come to you, Ive been told,That its from someone in heaven, a past soul.If you keep a look out, if you open your heart,The things that were ordinary will now stand apart.I think if we look, read between the lines,You will find clues and you will find signs,That your loved one isnt past, not really, not gone,That they are not here, that they have just moved on.It is said that there is not death, just life and transitions,From the teachings of Buddha to the beliefs of the Christians.So from my heart, from my hope and belief,May you find many butterflies to assist with your grief. That you are proud of us and that we will be together again. Never will I be covered in tattoosMy legs and toes shall forever stay bruised.Ill never paint or carry a tuneForever and ever, Ill wear a tutu. You had your loves and had your dreams, You watched us come and go. There was once a master carpenter and he lived a good lifefor he loved to work, building things of wood.He was loved by his family,by his sons and his daughter,and especially by his wife.He was loved by everyone who knew him. So heres to you, from all your fans,A legend of the game;We thank you for the memories Football will never be the same. Perhaps you thought I missed it all,And that wed grow apart,But Dad, I picked up everything,Its written on my heart. Their quiet heart, a noble trait,That listened well, would sit and wait,A steady hand, a patient soul,That brought us peace, and made us whole. Forget what is happening all around,And keep both feet upon the ground; Dont let anything hurry you,And let each dart fly straight and true! Popular Poems for Funerals & Non-religious Readings. But all the feelings that are nowSo vivid and so realCant hold their fresh intensityAs time begins to heal. Have you checked the smoke detectors? 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. June 14, 2022; jeep renegade 4x4 usata francoforte sul meno; astrological predictions for trump 2022 . The time you won your town the raceWe chaired you through the market-place.Man and boy stood cheering by,And home we brought you shoulder-high. I know how much you wish Id stayedI feel so very blessedOf all the people to have in my worldI got the very best. 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. I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tideIs a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,And the flung spray and the blown spume and the seagulls crying. 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 There it goes.On lifes track I am starting to run. A 93rd minute winner ensures the days before the next game are filled with hope, a thumping defeat fills hearts with despair. Then at the very endWhen they were on their kneesYou still walked tallAnd like your matesYou claimed to take it allThe penalty and the strike,your wayThe win that set your heart aflameThe game, the pitch, the offside ruleThe love that took your heartYour final match at home your ball. Funeral Poems - Moving Poetry for Memorial Services | Stoneletters )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! Michael Ashby A humorous play-on-words about death and cooking.Mothers Apron Joyce Johnson A similar piece to the above, but with subtleties that befit a mother.Riches Jeanne D. Rhein A lovely, comforting piece about the cosy, familial comforts of a home-cooked meal. Another day has come again,As time moved surely on But nothing now seems quite the same,To know that he is gone.The days and weeks and months aheadWill never be the same Because a treasure beyond wordsCan never be replaced. Members of the Club stand post,Proud brothers in the wind;Shaded eyes the tears disguise,And loss they feel within. In my kayak I find peaceOn the water, all is calmThe rhythm of the paddles releaseAll the stress and all the qualms. So, if youre searching for a poem for a grandmother, scroll down to G or hit Ctrl+F to find grandmother on this page; this can be done for someone who loved cricket, someone who suffered from Alzheimers, someone who brought laughter into everyones lives, or any other topic you can think of. Its been a long time since we first felt the beginning to this end.And today we pray before you; your family and your friends.Weve watched your thoughts get more obscure with every passing day;As this heartless thing called Alzheimers made them fade away.Gradually it took the gleam from those once so loving eyes.To befall on such a giving manit seemed so unjustified.Stripping you of everything, leaving nothing in its placeExcept a look of sadness left upon your face.As long as we have searched, through all the tears weve criedWeve tried to find the reason for this long good-bye.But now its time to take back all your memoriesAs you are finally free from this cruel disease.We pledge to remember the man that you once were;A good hearted, giving man is all that will be heard.And every night when we look up and see a certain starWe will know within our hearts exactly where you are.So on this day we say good-bye as you now depart.Although far from our touch, never far from our hearts. Ive grown up with your values,And Im very glad I did;So heres to you, dear father,From your forever grateful kid. - Navjot Sidhu 5 1 Add a comment The third umpires should be changed as often as nappies and for the same reason. A mind so patient, waits for it to growAs the pattern appears, row by row.A mind so creative, can picture it completeThe stitches like soldiers, all the same, so neat. When the long, dark night is overAnd heaven begins its reignI promise you my darlingI will see you again. He is a lover of the earth,And all the wonders it gives birth;He is a lover of the bloom,And all the fragrant, sweet perfume. They would put in the footings then forget to build the wall, and when they did it was neither short nor tall. With every stroke, I feel so freeAs I glide across the wavesThe world and its worries, I can seeDrifting away in a haze. Unknown Life is simply a cricket match, with temptation as the bowler. 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. Poems for those who lived their life in rural areas, or simply shared a passion for rolling hills and sprawling fields. This poem by Robert Burns describes a friend who is an honest man, a guide to youth and an informed human being. My heart often pounding; Im going to burstCome on legs, keep going!I want to come first. 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. It broke our hearts to lose you,But you didnt go alone,For part of us went with youThe day God called you home. We must dig in and get through to tea. If I were there, Id tell you I have no more pain or strife,That I loved my friends and family, and I had a wonderful life.If I were there, Id tell you how I loved the small blue highways,I loved the curving mountain roads, and I loved to ride the back-road byways. I wont dye my hair pink or blueMy piercings will stay as the simple twoNails cut short and hair in a bunIn ballet, this must be done. Bingo! Lay lady lay, in crimson and cloverIts been a hard days night, the partys over. I love to learn about them, and share all that I find,With others who love their fossils just as much as I love mine,They know that fossils are far more than simply rocks and debris,They are a vital window into our worlds history. Poems for those who brought laughter into our lives. The Road goes ever on and on,Down from the door where it began.Now far ahead the Road has gone,And I must follow, if I can,Pursuing it with eager feet,Until it joins some larger wayWhere many paths and errands meet.And whither then? 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. 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. These will be suitable for memorial services as well as funeral readings. I don't mind dying But I want my funeral to be fine: A row of long tall mammas Fainting, Fanning and crying - Langston Hughes. 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." With each step, each strike and block,The martial artists soul is free,Finding peace in every rock,And calm in every sea. The only reason these days,that I ever get down on one knee,Is to view the World the way,that only a Bowler gets to see,Upon that velvet turf,looking down along the level green,Studying the Kittys spread,and where the Jack is on the scene.Will my final bowl be cunning,or just drive to win the end?I know Ill find theres Bowls in Heaven,so worry not my friend. But now as no seat is vacantYou will have to muddle throughMake sure you fulfil your ambitionsAs you know Ill be watching you. cricket poems for funerals. - Navjot Sidhu 8 0 Add a comment The memoriesI have throughoutThe yearsWill lastforever withLaughter and tears. and fought to the last breath. You are the picture I paint in my headOf beauty that only exists in thought.You are the picture I dream of in bed.Of beauty that I have forever thought. Kayaking Mark Gregory A poem about the peace and calm that one experiences on the water.The Oarsmans Song Steve Fairbairn A rhythmic poem about the hypnotic motion of a rower in full flight.Rowing In Eden Mark Gregory A short but touching poem about two friends drifting towards heaven. 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. Add languages.

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