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 . The, of Children's Picture Books: Childcraft,, s and An Ode to Cricket at Kings School and a couple of Storms What is cricket, the teatowel factor, ESPN Cricinfo, Ten, s about Cricket, Candlestick Press, Poetry Pamphlets. Nothing is over until we decide it is! Ill walk the extra mile.Not because I have to, but because its worth my while.I know that I am different, when I stand on a crowded street.I know the fullness of winning, Ive tasted the cup of defeat. Need a good piece on cricket for a funeral | Army Rumour Service They are not the same. I picture you in every placeAmong the trees and waters blueAnd every time it comes to mindIm grateful I had you. Pray dont find fault with the man who limpsor stumbles along the road,unless you have worn the shoes he wearsor struggled beneath his load.There may be tacks in his shoes that hurt,though hidden away from view,or the burden he bears, placed on your backmight cause you to stumble too.Dont sneer at the man whos down todayunless you have felt the blowthat caused his fall or felt the shamethat only the fallen know.You may be strong, but still the blowsthat were his if dealt to you,in the selfsame way, at the selfsame time,might cause you to stagger too.Dont be too harsh with the man who sinsor pelt him with word or stone,unless you are sure, yea, doubly sure,that you have no sins of your ownfor you know perhaps if the tempters voiceshould whisper as softly to youas it did to him when he went astray,it might cause you to stumble too. In winter gentle sheep may graze Preserving turf for summer days, A picket fence thrown round the square The archer and his bowAlways achieve gloryThough this is the endOf their epic story. 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. 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. Though your heart wont let the sadnessSimply slide awayThe echoes will diminishEven though the memories stay. No wound so deep will ever goEntirely awayYet every hurt becomesA little less from day to day. "And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. I am a martial artist. There were times I tried to fight them,There was a time I nearly won,But they came back and overpowered me,I had nowhere left to run. Now he lives onhaving answered that resounding heavenly bellappearing at last in the Lords eternal firehouse where firemen dwell,standing as he had done in this life so proud and talljoyously and willingly responding when he finally heardthe firefighters last call. Tears water our growth." 3. She dances on the balance beam,So light, so free, so full of grace,Her body moves with effortless ease,In this, her chosen place. The draping, it is perfectNo wrinkles will you seeA symbol of a nationA reminder that were free. 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. 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. Which is happier, man or boy?The soul of the father is steeped in joy,For hes finding out, to his hearts delight,That his son is fit for the future fight.He is learning the glorious depths of him,And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim.And he shall discover, when night comes on,How close he has grown to his little son. We wouldnt eat from a microwaveOr a restaurant down the streetWe all ate Mums home cookingAnd boy that cant be beat. We pull out the chairs for whomever dares,The drinks and munchies set to spare,We argue over who will sit and where,And who will interpret the rules in despair. Could you sit and rock her and read her a story?Shes probably afraid; please tell her dont worry.Tell her mommy loves her and wishes she could be here,But it wont be for many more years. The members sat in their strong deckchairs, Roy Harpers When an old Cricketer leaves the crease has been mentioned. 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. Another Biker Who Has Gone Down Connie Starren A poem lamenting the loss of another avid biker.The Big Plan Gunnar Hassenplug A humorous poem about a bikers plan to get into heaven without an invite!A Biker Funeral anon A vivid description of a biker funeral with plenty of suitable metaphors.His Journey Goes On Joe Eliston A sombre but hopeful poem highlighting the importance of the journey of life.I Ride Alone Graeme Cook A fierce poem for a fallen motorcycling companion.My Last Ride anon A slightly religious poem about a bikers last ride to heaven.We Ride As One anon A poem lamenting the loss of riders past and present. She says youve only left the room,You havent gone away.But I really miss you, GranddadAnd the games we used to play. Funeral Poems; Memorial Poems, sayings, quotes, and verses; Celebration of Life Poems; Remembrance Poems The Comfort and Sweetness of Peace After the clouds, the sunshine, after the winter, the spring, after the shower, the rainbow, for life is a changeable thing. Warm summer sun, Shine kindly here, Warm southern wind, Blow softly here. The empty spots beckon; They yearn to be filled And if Im successful Im quietly thrilled. I will still keep you withinFreedom is importantThe wild roar of your heartis not for me anymoreI am allowing you to make your next journey. Therell be many destinationsSome are happy, some are sadEach one a brief reminderOf the great times that weve had. 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. That man was made of many partsA teacher of lifes skills and artsFull of love and full of careWith much to give, and much to share. Just let me laugh with every tree,let me be barefoot and free,let every rock be overturned,let every blade of grass be learned,let the sky sleep over mewhile I am watching underneath let me weave a daisy chainto make into a bloomin wreath.Give me a flowered path to climb,I need no food, I need no bed,just let me live while Im aliveand I will rest when I am dead. I do not ask you for your tears,For I am free, my suffering past.Remember all the times we laughed,And when you find that happy place,Let a smile light up your face. Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,The flying cloud, the frosty light:The year is dying in the night;Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. It broke our hearts to lose you,You did not go alone,For part of us went with you,the day God called you home. Funeral Poems - Mark Your Occasion If you want fame for yourself, go play an individual game. Board Games Lou Szymkow An atmospheric poem detailing the memories we all have of family board gaming days.A Game Of Life Frank Preston Stearns A old-fashioned yet moving sonnet comparing chess to life. When I feel overwhelmed by destruction,Let me go down to the sea.Let me sit by the immeasurable oceanAnd watch the surfBeating in and running out all day and all nightLet me sit by the seaAnd have the bitter sea windsSlap my cheeks with their cold, damp handsUntil I am sensible again.Let me look at the sky at nightAnd let the stars tell meOf limitless horizons and unknown universesUntil I am grown calm and strong once more. He played with passion, played with grace,His mind was sharp, his strategy sound,He battled on the chessboards face,And never once let his focus drown. There were a couple of muckers who mixed up the cement,they were forever subbing so they never paid their rent. After the night, the morning, bidding all darkness cease, Though we never knowWhere life will take us,I know its just a rideOn the wheel.And we never knowWhen death will shake usAnd we wonder howIt will feel.So Goodbye my friend.I know Ill never see you again.But the time togetherThrough all the years,Will take away these tears.Its OK now Goodbye my friend.I see a lot of thingsThat make me crazy,And I guess I held on to you,You could have run awayAnd left well maybe,But it wasnt timeAnd we both knew.So Goodbye My friend.I know Ill never see you again.But the love you gave meThrough all the yearsWill take away these tears.Im OK now Goodbye my friend. I have included poems for mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives and children. When things go wrong as they sometimes willWhen the road youre running seems all uphillWhen the funds are low, and the debts are highAnd youre trying to smile but you have no sighWhen cares are pressing you down a bit,Rest if you must,But dont you quit. 36 Funeral Poems - my | Farewelling The love of field and coppice, of green and shaded lanes,Of ordered woods and gardens is running in your veins.Strong love of grey-blue distance, brown streams and soft, dim skies-I know but cannot share it, my love is otherwise. Into some other thing. Mother wore an ample apronTo cover her clean dress.Shed tell you thats what it was forIf you asked her, I would guess. Standing and waiting for the race of life to beginIm getting quite nervous.Am I going to win? Smart lad, to slip betimes awayFrom fields where glory does not stay,And early though the laurel growsIt withers quicker than the rose. Poems for those who found a love of the stage either on or off it during their life. Stalactites hang from abovetheir beauty alone is enoughwalls covered in draperiesmillions of years of Earths memories. Hes asked me if I would care to danceCant refuse, so Ill take the chanceTrembling as he takes me into his armsGliding together as the music starts. As Stevie Bloomer watches down. Use code HELLO54 when you join us as a print or digital member and your membership will be half price for the first year. Excludes Gift Memberships, Discount applies to first year. Richard. [Person] is now the brightest star in our sky tonight burning on, with a flame dimmed with sadness and sorrow for us still here.The stars are watching us. They smoked, and talked of stocks and shares, Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;One more rider, Heaven bound,Roars through the Pearly Gates. I pray the Captain sets his fieldWith telepathic skill,That all his plans work wellAnd that the catches do not spill. Ive found the crust of our old earthA mighty funeral urn-Where countless forms of life had birth;Then others took their turn. My big right hand, gloved and fisted, Feeling now, the throttle twisted, Crisp exhaust roar, sounding sweet, Drop the clutch, and hit the street, The revs rise sharply, grab next gear, Excitement tinged with hint of fear, Watch that tacho needle wind, All and sundry left behind. Core of my heart, my country! Poems perfect for those who loved getting their fingers green and pottering about in the garden. Youve always made me happy,I hope you can truly see.Youre more than just an Uncle,youre also a great friend to me. Going to second Mass on a summer SundayYou meet me and you say:Dont forget to see about the cattleAmong your earthiest words the angels stray. You watched us make the same mistakes, That you had made before, But that just made you hold us tight, And love us all the more. Still, I will hold onto the memories we sharedover a cup of joe,and I will always cherishthe warmth of your loveinvigorating,comforting,and with every memoryI will feel more alive. Poems for those who loved building and rebuilding marvellous creations with those famous little bricks. When at last the harvest comesAs the fields receive the dew,A life well lived leaves legacyThe Masters plan in view. Ill always be your mother,Hell always be your dad.You will always be our child,The child that we had. But here is your race medalFrom me with all my heartYoull wear my gold at every stepAnd we will never be apart. Then a soldier,Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,Seeking the bubble reputationEven in the cannons mouth. Im climbing a mountainI feel the cool breeze on my face,And the suns beating downIm forever at home in this place. Entered to the contest "Haiku Encyclopedia" as a shasei haiku. It also comes in handy When Im working on a rhyme. Poems about grandmothers, grandmas, nannies and grans. 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. Its all about the journeyIts the part that countsEven when he gets thereHe may just turn around. I Hold The Heights Geoffrey Winthrop Young An abridged version of the original which basks in the glory of hiking.Im Climbing A Mountain Andrew Blakemore An uplifting poem about the sights and sounds of a climb.So Well Go No More A-Climbing anon An adaptation of Lord Byrons original; a lament to a climbing partner. Where houses stand and turf once lay. Someday I will soarWhere only eagles dare to fly.My wings will span great distancesIn a clear blue azure sky.So high above this worldly placeThat Heavens doors Ill see.And angel voices will start to carry meThrough skies ringing with sweet melody.For God has promised us this dayIf His name we will revere.And I hold this promise in my heartAs I mount up with wings that shall have no fear. Poems reflecting upon the importance of the memories we have of others. The time has come when time is no moreand all thats left was once before. Kazmierczak A light-hearted poem about trying (and often failing) to get a strike.The End Of The Alley Mark Gregory A poem filled with bowling terminology about what we hope for when we die.A Ten-Pin Bowlers Prayer anon An adaptation of the Lords Prayer, but for ten-pin-bowlers. I . Id like to encourage you all to remember my game,And maybe keep my photo or my top score in a frame.And when your own ball reaches the end of the lane,Id like to hope Id see you in the afterlife again. 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.