cricket poems for funerals

Poems for people from Yorkshire, or for those who loved and epitomised it during their life. Poems for those brave men and women who risked their lives to save others from fire. Some people say keeping a barIs the worst job on the EarthI know the truth; how wrong they areIf only they knew its worth! Whats with this ballThat they could kick so high?It meant the worldTo you and them, so why? It's been mixed up week here at STW Towers, mostly thanks to everyone suddenly realising they haven't used up their annual leave so they'd better take some time off. William Shakespeare. Alcohol. It wasnt easy watching youOf that I wont denyAnd Im not ashamed to sayThat there were times I cried. When the birds start to singAfter my owls hoot;Dont let it slip thatManners dont cost a thing. I was just an average batsman, and a less than average fielder. You made me proud of who you areand all that you have done You often reached beyond the starsto find your goals and won. Weeping willows formed an honour guardFor the cricket ball writ with a noble nameA team of ten, which had once been elevenWould never be the same side again. by | Jul 10, 2021 | opentimeclock 2004 login | list of navy reserve units | Jul 10, 2021 | opentimeclock 2004 login | list of navy reserve units "Alive" by Winifred Mary Letts. Ive found the crust of our old earthA mighty funeral urn-Where countless forms of life had birth;Then others took their turn. You raised a fine family, worked the land well and always followed the Son,Hang up your shovel inside of the barn; your work here on earth is done. Death is an inevitable fate.Someday we have to go.You hope you didyour best in life,but how are you to know? Obtainingperfection is my keyIts what I strive for, its all that defines mePushing harder and harder to reach my goalIts what I live for, ballet is my soul. So I praise this car and its wobbly ride And Im gosh darn grateful that Im still inside. If you can lend a hand, when hand is needed,And with your clubmates, you can take your turn,So, marking, clocking, checking can be speeded,And each and every job you thus will learn.If you can join the throng at payout dinner,And laugh and joke and join in all the fun,And really mean it when you clap each winner,Yet know fulwell that you have nowt to come. Its anyone youve ever lovedwho mourns you in the end. 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. It was a heaven houseThe books were there, and so were people whoLoved reading them, and that is all that matters. 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. Bugs on visor, flatly splattered, Speed limits, completely shattered. But there are those whose whole life is a blessing,Not just a moment, a smile or a word.They make all around them feel special,No person ignored or unheard. Warm summer sun, Shine kindly here, Warm southern wind, Blow softly here. Nothing is over until we decide it is! Footballs a match made in heavenWhich is fan-tastic news for meAnd heavens a level playing fieldWhere anyone can kick off for free. 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. Its bad times youve persevered.Its all the fun youve had.Its any time youve ever laughedand every tear youve shed. I am the wind in your hair, the sand in your toesButterfly kisses that you feel on your noseI am with you at sunrise and in the sunsetBut you cannot see me, its my one regret. What if I live no more those kingly days?Their night sleeps with me still.I dream my feet upon the starry ways;My heart rests in the hill.I may not grudge, the little left undone.I hold the heights, I keep the dreams I won. Cricket - Funeral Order of Service In this guide: Popular funeral poems and verses; Happy and funny funeral poems; Short funeral poems; Non-religious funeral poems; Popular funeral poems and verses. I have lied in the sight of the oceanWhere the water runs into the landI have walked on the beach in the morningAnd left my footprints in the sandBut musical waves have been callingAnd the ocean is so wide and vastThat Ive struck for the silver horizonAnd put out to sea at last. They kept us warm on winter nights,A sense of peace and calm,They were more than just plain fabric;They were creations of her palm. Tiny Angel can you tell me,Why you have gone away?You werent here for very longWhy is it, you couldnt stay? Not quite a reading, but maybe verses from "when an old cricketer leaves the crease", a song by Roy Harper. That Hand is you, Old Sailor.And youll be sailing out on Heavenly Seas.May the wind be ever at your back.Fair weather, and God Speed! You offered kindnessAnd greetings with a hug and kiss,Each freely out of love which I will miss. O precious, tiny, sweet little oneYou will always be to me.So perfect, pure, and innocentJust as you were meant to be. 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. Just wish me to be near you,And Ill be there with you. I lived my life beside you allCocooned within your loveSo friends and family please dont cryIm still with you; just up above. When great trees fall,rocks on distant hills shudder,lions hunker downin tall grasses,and even elephantslumber after safety. Our Alley,who art in BowlingHallowed by thy lanesThy strikes will comeThy will be doneOn approach as it is on releaseGive us this game our weekly bowling nightAnd forgive us our splitsAs we forgive thoseWho excessively celebrate against us.Lead us not into the gutterBut deliver us from the ten pin.For ever and EverBowl Men. Not having a good fielder is bad luck. The world needs you.Believe me, its true!Some things need doingThat only you can do. Where words fail,music speaks.It speaks of the pain,of the sorrow,of the lost,of the life we live.It shares emotions.Its a way to connect,to understandwhat others feel.Where words fail,music speaks.It tells the truthwhether you want it to or not.Music shares the soulsof those were around,of those in the worldthat were living.I wish to sharemy music with youSo you can understandthe pain I feel,so I can share my soul with you,so you can understandWhat Im going through. You explain death to the clothes like that dream.You tell them how much you miss the spouseand how much you miss the pet with its little winter sweater. Im climbing a mountainI reach out to touch the blue sky,This feeling of freedomWill live with me until I die. To shake our gravity up. 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. If I could fly like a birdtime would slow me downgiving me time to enjoy thepeace that surrounds all around.If I could fly likea bird swift as a lightI know for a factI would love this graceful flight. Poems for brothers, young and old, loyal and caring, reflecting the nuances of fraternal relationships. I hear you whisper softly in my earTake a step forward, dont worry dearYou have my blessing, your life to enhanceKeep dancing to music of the Tea Dance.. Our memories build a special bridgeWhen loved ones have to partTo help us feel were with them stillAnd soothe a grieving heart.They span the years and warm our livesPreserving ties that bind;Our memories build a special bridgeAnd bring us peace of mind. Where was I?Whats my time? A good eye and a perfect stance. 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. 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. 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! As you touched our livesWith your generosity and careYour laughter and love always shone through. You played the game with all your soul,Giving everything to win,You pushed yourself to the brink and backTime and time again. His bricks though were not just forged in fire,His family were his foundation and his desireThe mortar was his love, his caring, his skillHe loved you all dearly, and loves you all still. Ive seen them win, lose and draw, rush by in charging blur, Neck and neck, nose to nose, to the photo we refer, The weight is right, the track is fair, the sun will always shine, As once more past the Judges, and I cross that Finish Line. The Road goes ever on and onOut from the door where it began.Now far ahead the Road has gone,Let others follow it who can!Let them a journey new begin,But I at last with weary feetWill turn towards the lighted inn,My evening-rest and sleep to meet. You loved the roaring of the crowd,The rush of victory,You loved the sweat, the tears, the toil,The adrenaline, so sweet. My partners a dope and Im losing all hope.And when s/he says double I know were in trouble.My points are not high and Im wondering whyS/he kept on bidding right up to the sky. Hes got speed and endurance.But if you sign to fight him, increase your insurance.This kids got a left, this kids got a right,If he hit you once, youre asleep for the night.And as you lie on the floor while the ref counts 10,You pray that you wont have to fight me again. I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,And the wheels kick and the winds song and the white sails shaking,And a grey mist on the seas face and a grey dawn breaking. I chat about peoples livesI help to solve their woes,I make damn sure their night will thrive,And they keep me on my toes. A beautiful garden now stands alone,missing the one who nurtured it,But now she is gone. The Trout Brook by Ralph E. McMillin. Fortifying The Spirits - Michael Ashby - A humorous poem . So, our sweetYoull never be goneCause your laughter and loveWill always shine through. Our site uses cookies to provide you with the best possible user experience, if you choose to continue then we will assume that you are happy for your web browser to receive all cookies from our website. We shared ourBirthdaySince I was five.My wish now will beTo have you back healthyAnd alive. And standing thereTill that calm song is done, at last well shareThe league-spread, quiring symphonies that areJoy in the world, and peace, and dawns one star. Grandmas Apron Tina Trivett A lovely, reflective piece about the many things a grandmothers apron has seen.MORE THYME! Poems for those who forged a career as a hair stylist, and had a passion for hair design. by Gabrielle Tintitranslation by David Graham. Well see your smile in every rayOf sunshine after rainAnd hear the of echo of your laughterOver all the pain. A trip to the Ring, its all part of the gameto lay down a tenner on the horse with the namethat sounds like a winner, a worthwhile betbut tarry no longer, well miss the jet set. Whats with this gameThat made you feel so high?Was it your teamYour matesThe offside trapAnd then that lousy shoot-outNearly made you cry? 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. Cricket And Poetry: A History | All Out Cricket | Culture Special - Wisden "Dead" by Winifred Mary Letts. Crouching down low, I wait for the starters gunBang! I cant be there to hold your handI cant be there to hug youI cant be there to dry a tearBut there is one thing I can do. 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. Poems about people who liked a drink - in a healthy way. In life, they loved their family, With a love that knew no bounds, Their heart was filled with joy and pride, When their loved ones were around. 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.

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