The ball swung, swerved and darted, I am standing upon the seashore.A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.She is an object of beauty and strength.I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloudjust where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.Then someone at my side says, There, she is gone.Gone where?Gone from my sight. All verses featured on this website are free to use during any ceremony, although it is good practice to make sure the author is mentioned, if known. With every breath, their quiet heart,Was steadfast, true, and pure in part,A steady beat, a gentle pace,That led us to a peaceful place. 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. 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. I have been on the razzle-dazzleFull many a time since then;But I never could get the chemistTo brew that drink again.He says hes forgotten the notion Twas only by chance it came Hes tried me with various liquidsBut oh! 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. However they cant live without,the nine, ten, two or eight.The common numbers of lifes game,theyll set the balance straight. Alas, reality was somewhat different. 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 third candle we light in your memory: the times we laughed, the times we cried,the times we were angry towards each other, the silly things you did, and the caring and joy you gave us. Of course, you could also write your own. JavaScript is disabled. )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 is a momentIn musical rehearsalWhen all the playersThe choirThe woodwind and brassThe strings and percussionThe entire orchestraStopsAnd there is peace, The conductor says two wordsAnd restVoices cease to singThe woodwind put down oboes and clarinetsThe brass lay down trumpets and trombonesOthers do the sameBecause the music is overThere is no audienceThere is no applauseIn that momentQuietness reignsYet the quiet that followsRemains harmonious, There is a certain silenceA spaceFor reflection and reposeThe music is rememberedAnd so we contemplateThe highsThe lowsThe passage of melodySometimes we feel sadBecause the chordsHave drifted awayFinishedCompleted, Some will feel lossOthers experience reliefAnd others deep sadness, TogetherWe shareThat moment of closureWhen the conductorSaysAnd rest., The musical notes stood in linesDiscordant in their griefBefore regaining their composureAs black tears in embossed relief. 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. On the ashes of our Baseball Ground. The sounds of all your heartbeatsAre my sweetest melodyAnd at all my heavenly bedtimeThe angels play it back to me. The ceremony is conducted by a humanist celebrantand it is both a celebration of a life and a dignified, personal farewell. The worst berets you have ever seen(pics appreciated)? One, two, three, four,A designer now, fashions in my core,Five, six, seven, eight,Theres plenty of work still on my plate. I fancy I hear them talking thereIn an open boat, and the speech is fair.And the boy is learning the ways of menFrom the finest man in his youthful ken.Kings, to the youngster, cannot compareWith the gentle father whos with him there.And the greatest mind of the human raceNot for one minute could take his place. 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. Funeral Poems about Flying Free or Letting Go The White Chariot During your journey on your final flight home. Aunt Mabel Don Geiger A poem written for a specific aunt, but which many nieces and nephews can relate to.My Aunt Megan Stokes A poem written for an aunt but can be used for a generic female role model.What My Aunt Meant To Me anon A beautiful poem indicating the place in our hearts that our aunt held. Hell, no!, Apparently this a a Facebook Page called Why I love cricket, Starboard 10, Round again, pull in the buoys. 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. 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. F amily man, first and foremost. They were the glue that held us all in place, The one we could always depend on, Their warmth and kindness never failed, Their love, an endless fountain. Animal Lover Mark Gregory A poem ideal for someone who had a deep love for animals.Fly Robert Longley An inspiration poem about setting your soul free without fear.If (Pigeon-Fancier Version) original by Rudyard Kipling An adaptation of Kiplings original, but for a pigeon-fancier. Monopolyseemed like a treacherous merry-go-round.He wanted to charge no rent,disperse property equally(having been taught to share),end the game, and go drinkhot cocoa unaware a monopolycontrolled the cocoa market. I shot an arrow into the air,It fell to earth; I knew not where.For, so swiftly it flew, the sightCould not follow it in its flight. BINGO, I shout, its my timeI finally got to complete that line! Analysis,Subject Summarisation And Explanation : 'On Tingling Catch: An interview with cricket poet Nick Whittock, Tingling Catch: Bill OReillys 1946 NZ cricket. When you decide to call me LordIn Your special way,Could there be a team one player shortWho might ask me to play? Farewell, friends! So rude, mocking and defiant, And on you, still so reliant, You are there to fulfil their every need, Were so proud of their successes, And forgive their many messes, The writings on the wall but they wont read. And yet the cares are manyand the hours of toil are few;There is not time enough on earthfor all Id like to do;But, having lived and having toiled,Id like the world to findSome little touch of beautythat my soul had left behind. "An honest man here lies at rest, The friend of man, the friend of truth, Poems for petrol heads, or simply for those who enjoyed a Sunday drive. 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. Hauskat Meemit. Goodbye, to you, with whom Ive shared,This wondrous gift of life.Enjoy the dance, lifes sweet refrain,For love is timeless as the stars,And I will dance with you again. Ballerinas Poem Miranda Snow A poem about the utter perfection required when performing ballet.Dance Of Life David Harris A poem comparing each and every day to a different style of dance.Dance With The Waves Christy Ann Martine A very short poem perfect for a committal or scattering of ashes at sea.Dancing In The Sky Elizabeth and Danielle Hyde A slightly religious poem about dancing in heaven.I Imagine You Dancing Tanya Lord A poem reflecting the hopes of a happy, dance-filled life after death. She had a collection, an unusual collection, Of four thousand and forty two, Colourful, shapely, dangly rings, From green to gold to blue. If I could fly like a birdmy face would touch thethe clouds while myfeathers hit the groundas the wind cools medown. All The Worlds A Stage William Shakespeare A verse which summarises the whole span of human life in a few lines.The Last Call Michael Ashby A short verse originally dedicated to Richard Briers.Our Revels Now Are Ended William Shakespeare An extract from The Tempest by one of the greats. The gardener, with his spade and hoe,Works in the sun and rain and snow;He digs and plants and waters too,And watches over what he grew. Dont curse me, for I have done you no wrong.I only want the acceptance I have needed for so long. Im climbing a mountainI stop just to gaze at the view,So clear the horizonLike my every dream has come true. You know Ill never leave youeven when Im far awayIn the moments when the words stopand your breath gets in the wayI will softly say I love youbarely louder than the breezeSo I hope you gently listento my voice between the trees. Dont look to right or left at all,For that is how the mighty fall! Mother, you were just a girl, So many years ago. And so now to me, what does it all meanfor me not the fashion, or the high social scenebut the thundering hooves pounding down on the earthThe grace and the power of these kings of the turf. Gods Garden D. W. McConway A slightly religious poem about God calling a tired person home.God Saw Him Getting Tired / God Saw Her Getting Tired Frances and Kathleen Coelho A poem similar to the above.I Am At Peace Jennifer Alderton A short poem urging mourners to remember a terminally ill person at their best. My mums playing Bingo in heavenWith a happy smile on her faceIf shed known there was a Bingo hall in heavenShed have looked more forward to the place!Past 78 and heavens gateIts 83 and time for teaWith 61 and a bakers bunAnd no queue for the lavatory!After 41 and time for fun,Shes won with 54 and wiped the floorI really do thank my lucky starsMy mum landed in heaven instead of on Mars! Your love for coffee was a passion,A way to start each day anew.It gave you strength and courage,To do the things you had to do. Similar . Id like to leave but daffodilsto mark my little way,To leave but tulips red and whitebehind me as I stray;Id like to pass away from earthand feel Id left behindBut roses and forget-me-notsfor all who come to find. Its all the stories you told,The places youve been.Its every sunset that you caughtand every cent you spent. This is the particular line I was thinking of. Listen to the storiesthe old trees tell in hushing voices,the rushing sounds of ocean waves . Brother when you weep for me, remember that it was meant to be,Lay me down and when you leave, remember Ill be at your sleeveIn every dark and choking hall, Ill be there as you slowly crawlOn every roof in driving snow; Ill hold your coat and you will know.In cellars hot with searing heat; at windows where at a gate you meet;In closets where young children hide: you know Ill be there at your side.The house from which I now respond is overstaffed with heroes gone;Men who answered one last bell did the job and did it well.As firemen we understand that deaths a card dealt in our hand,A card we hope we never play but one we hold there anyway.That card is something we ignore as we crawl across a weakened floor,For we know that were the only prayer for anyone that might be thereSo remember, as you wipe your tears, the joy I knew throughout the yearsAs I did the job I loved to do I pray that thought will see you through. A line, a house would pass me byThe frustration could make a grown man cry! One, two, three, four,Getting older now, cant take any more,Five, six, seven, eight,Model life is done, it was truly great. A Bricklayer Lou Szymkow A poem reflecting the natural talents and hard-working craft of a bricklayer.Bricklayers Lament Sylvia Spencer A poem about a hard-working builder with a less-than-ideal team beneath him.The Bridge Builder Will Allen Dromgoole A touching poem about building bridges for others, rather than for yourself.Wreckers Or Builders? And when this carpenter arrived in heavenhe was expected andimmediately he was put to work:for the Pearly Gateswere a bit looseand St. Peters deskhad a couple of drawers that stuck.And before longthe old master carpenterbegan to builda new thronefor God. Poems about those people in our lives who stuck by us through thick and thin. Poems for those who enjoyed the ebb and flow of angling. Whats with this gameThat made you feel so high?Was it your teamYour matesThe offside trapAnd then that lousy shoot-outNearly made you cry? My trumpet is silentAs it is with my life tooNo more shall I play for youThere is nothing left to do. 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. Feel no guilt in laughter, theyd know how much you care.Feel no sorrow in a smile that they are not here to share.You cannot grieve forever; they would not want you to.Theyd hope that you could live your life the way you always do.So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared,the days you spent together, all the happiness you shared.Let memories surround you, a word someone may saywill suddenly recapture a time, an hour or a day,that brings them back as clearly as though they were still here,and fills you with the feeling that they are always near.For if you keep those moments, you will never be apartand they will live forever locked safely within your heart. The Bird That Was Trapped Has Flown James Robertson Several metaphors for a physically disabled person set free.Caged Bird Maya Angelou A wonderfully poetic verse which is at times a difficult metaphor for disability.Not Quite Right E. B. Poems for those who had a passion for music during their life, whether as a DJ, singer, or simply music-lover. Members of the Club stand post,Proud brothers in the wind;Shaded eyes the tears disguise,And loss they feel within. cricket poems for funerals Deeper down I goso unknown steps belowexploring further than anyones beenthere seems to be no end. The present only is our own,So live, love, toil with a will,Place no faith in Tomorrow,For the Clock may then be still. 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. We have but a short timeOn this earth,So value your lifeFor what its really worth. The water was hot and steaming,The tea was fresh and new.I took a sip, and closed my eyes,And all my worries flew. 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. Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;One more rider, Heaven bound,Roars through the Pearly Gates. What is it about a Grandmother,that is such a special bond,Seeing not the years between us,but so very much beyond,For being so much older,just doesnt seem to be a case,The ages seem to melt to nought,within our own special place. and whatever a sun will always sing is you. Youve also got some sweeties.Isnt Nana kind?I may have stolen one or two,But I knew you wouldnt mind. To hunt a bird,To wet a line,Gifts from God,So good and fine. Our revels now are ended. For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all;The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks:The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks. - "Everything brown is not chocolate.". Sunset and evening star,And one clear call for me!And may there be no moaning of the bar,When I put out to sea. 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. 'Trees' is by far the most famous. She loves to sing all kinds of songs.Please tell her that she did no wrong.Would you comfort her and hold her in your arms tight?And tell her she is missed every day and night. No grand schemes,They passed me by.I knew the brook,The hills, the sky. Ill give the angelsBack their wingsAnd risk the lossOf everything. My pencil is ready; The boxes are bare. The position may, inthe eyes of some, appearto be a lowly one; but those who know thework which a firemanhas to do believehis is a noble calling.Our proudest momentis to save Lives.Under the impulseof such thoughtsthe nobility of theoccupation thrills usand stimulates us todeeds of daring,even ofsupreme sacrifice. Having this knowledge makes the fire fighters,our heroesof the past, present and future. This isnt how it was supposed to be!The world carries on like nothing has happened, but not me. But now youre gonebut yet youre hereWell sense you everywhere.You are our sorrow and our joy,Theres love in every tear. 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. The Archers Bow Shelbie Hale An ode to the oneness between archer and bow that has now come to an end.The Arrow And The Song Henry Longfellow Wadsworth A verse touching upon the impact people have on our lives.An Arrow Chosen From A Quiver anon A slightly religious poem comparing someones life to the release of an arrow. Her arms both glittered, her legs glistened, Her neck was a twinkle on display, She was a shiny beautiful colourful star, When she walked throughout the day. Originally conceived before the 2023 UCI World Championships were POC Omne Lite and Ultra helmets, Pole Voima ID, Bell Full-10 helmet, Cane Creek ILG2 shocks, and Focus Jam/Sam 2s. Ah: badminton, tennis, andping-pong: obsessive,repetitive, & Kafkamight have invented tennis-scoring,Love equated with Zero, Fifteenpulled out of a surrealists head. I wish I could give you many more years.I wish I could erase away all of your tears. 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. We think of you as yesterday,When you were fit and well.And when were asked about you,Its those things that well tell. Dont be sad for me todayFor me please do not weepCall upon your memoriesThey are yours to keep. Where was I?Whats my time? I know how much it hurt your soulWhen we had to say goodbyeBut Im not gone, Im always hereI am your butterfly. Perfect for him: right field inbaseball, an eccentrics positionthough he thought of drifting into otherfields beyond. What are Airlines Policies on carrying ashes? I can still hear you calling my name,then reality sets in and Im reminded my life will never be the same. Aroma of Yorks chocolate ten miles away, bread-baking and brewing downwind of Carlislemake me ready for dinner. How lucky I was,How blessed Ive been,You were more than my Aunt,You were also my friend. She is sitting in an armchair,the kind that envelops youwhen you sink into it,lost in a bookthat is taking her someplacefar from this room,someplace beyond the reachof the late afternoon sunthat is streaming through the window,beyond the reach of this houseand the row of houses next to it,beyond the streets and the townsand the fields that surround them. My father-in-law was cricket barmy. For in the real scheme of things,Your illness wasnt long.Compared to all the happiness,You brought your whole life long. Poems for those who found joy in the rhythmic motion of knitting. crunch!, but I know you may fight back.You are so bright it makes me cry.When I finish creating different things, I may destroy you.There are so many of you, but compared to Legoland, this is small.You may be decoration but you are more to me.You are the biggest set and I am happy to see you.You are beautiful when you are together, but it makes me sad because the adventure is over. Some time at eve when the tide is low,I shall slip my mooring and sail away,With no response to the friendly hailOf kindred craft in the busy bay.In the silent hush of the twilight pale,When the night stoops down to embrace the day,And the voices call in the waters flow-Some time at eve when the tide is low,I shall slip my mooring and sail away.Through the purpling shadows that darkly trailOer the ebbing tide of the Unknown Sea,I shall fare me away, with a dip of sailAnd a ripple of waters to tell the taleOf a lonely voyager, sailing awayTo the Mystic Isles where at anchor layThe crafts of those who have sailed beforeOer the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore.A few who have watched me sail awayWill miss my craft from the busy bay;Some friendly barks that were anchored near,Some loving souls that my heart held dear,In silent sorrow will drop a tearBut I shall have peacefully furled my sailIn mooring sheltered from storm and galeAnd greet the friends who have sailed beforeOer the Unknown Sea to the Unknown Shore. 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. Released as a single twice, in 1975 and 1978, it is possibly Harper's best-known song. Eyes the shady night has shutCannot see the record cut,And silence sounds no worse than cheersAfter earth has stopped the ears. We are not members unfortunately. It'll knock you for six: the best poem ever written about cricket IM driving this thing, and this car is ME,And its all worn out, but I made it work. Poems for those who found a love of the stage either on or off it during their life. Please tell her she is loved so very dear.Ill say it every day for her to hear.Her short life on earth is now completedFor lessons Im sure you felt I needed. Guided by the Lonely Star,beyond the utmost harbour-bar,Ill find the heavens fair and free,and beaches of the Starlit Sea.Ship, my ship! In my kayak I find peaceOn the water, all is calmThe rhythm of the paddles releaseAll the stress and all the qualms. 10 Inspiring Funeral Readings for Any Service - Knowledge Center 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. 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. Life is chess.There is always a competitor;one side is always dealt a better hand,pressure to win for bothpressure to impress. An old man going a long highwayCame in the evening cold and grayTo a chasm vast and deep and wide.The old man crossed in the twilight dim,The sullen stream had no fears for him,But he stopped when safe on the other sideAnd built a bridge to span the tide. SURLY was the crossword clue,I gave a sideways stare;my hubby gave a stifled coughand looked into the air. Might be some themed words in that that could be used? Her flowers still bloom, and the sun it still shines,But the rain is like tear drops for the ones left behind,The weeds lay waiting to take the gardens beauty away,But the beautiful memories of its keeper are in our hearts to stay.She loved every flower, even some that were weeds.So much love she would plant with each little seed,But just like her flowers, she was part of Gods plan.So when it was her time, he reached down his hand.He looked through the garden, searching for the best.Thats when he found her; it was her time to rest.It was hard for those who loved her to just let her go,But God had a spot in his garden that needed a gentle soul,So when you start missing her, remember if you just wait,When God has a spot in his garden, shell meet you at the gate. Poems for people from Yorkshire, or for those who loved and epitomised it during their life. Poems for those who loved building and rebuilding marvellous creations with those famous little bricks. When these graven lines you see,Traveller, do not pity me;Though I be among the dead,Let no mournful word be said. 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. If you can scan the skies in dreary weather,And do not feel downhearted when you say,Its dark now, and I havent got a feather,Yet you know that there are several on the day.If you can spare a handful for a stray one,And room at night to rest its weary frame.Count not the cost of what it eats, begrudge none,But hope someone will treat yours just the same. And should you think of me,think of me dragon freeupon the endless plains,immersed in a new story,in deepest fascination playing,worlds of music, magic, art,just me,doing me things,and smiling. 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. Unknown 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? Yes. One, two, three, four,This is the life that I adore,Five, six, seven, eight,To the end of the stage, and there I wait. The time has come when time is no moreand all thats left was once before. With flags so colourful and bold,His home was a sight to behold,Friends and family cameAnd all knew his name,His love for flags never grew old. A candle burns bright in a window of goldA beacon for lifes weary heartPromising beauty and splendours untoldOf a world that now keeps us apart. 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. And all the while Im pouring drinksFor all my treasured punters:Lawyers, doctors, teachers, shrinks,Accountants and headhunters. Dear God, please take care of my little girl,The one with big eyes and soft brown curls.She was special, as you should know.I really didnt want to let her go. Poems for those who grew up in the age of flower power and truly embraced it. The funeral bell is pealing for one, a last farewell,And few sounds sadder than the slow peals of the loud funeral bell.Above the streets and houses it echoes to the sky,For one bound for his/her last resting place the cemetery nearby.