cricket poems for funerals

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. Time for me to go now, I wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.In the morning sunrise when all the world is new,Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.Time for me to leave you, I wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky.In the evening sunset, when all the world is through,Just look for me and love me, and Ill be close to you.It wont be forever, the day will come and thenMy loving arms will hold you, when we meet again. Poems for watchmakers, clock collectors, or anyone who had a passion for timekeeping. For the cricket ball writ with a noble name, A team of ten, which had once been eleven, Since this wicket had fallen some days ago, And as the bowler delivered to the lone batsman, The cricketer crossing the last boundary, To a third innings that would forever last. I imagine you laughingYour heart lovingly set freeYou understand my griefIn ways I cannot see. Give my spare parts so some young buckMay make a start upon the roadTake the pannier of lifeAnd balance carefully his load. Between the wars, cricket became part of the jolly furniture of upper-class country life. In the end,only one gets to brag.The first to kiss,the checkered flag. Over and over againjust as he had done all his serving dayshis lips would still defiantly and valiantly speakof how he had fought so hard that enemy flamewith every ounce of strength his body could aim. We dance and we dance,each day through.Everyday to a different tune,just to get us through. The instruments played this salutationTo amusicianof note and much moreAt the end, everyone stamped their feetEncore, Encore, Encore! The life of man is like a game of chess,The which he plays according to his art;Winning or losing he doth nothing lessThan to obey the dictates of his heart. I seek the West,and fields and mountains ever blest. For they existed. If I helped in a team, if I helped on my own,it was more than repaid by good family and friends I have known;and if I went the extra mile,I did it with pleasure it was all worthwhile. Old Father Time, I pray to youThat clouds give it a rest,And that I get a game today,And that I play my best. 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. Her fingers wind the wool aroundWithout her even thinkingAnd rows and rows of stitches showWithout her even blinking. Copyright 2023 Scattering Ashes or original authors | Powered by. A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam, and for abrief moment its glory and beauty belong to our world:but then it flies again. She probably carried kindling to stoke the kitchen fire.To hold a load of laundry, or to wipe the clothesline wire.When canning all her vegetables, it was used to wipe her brow.You never know, she might have used it to shoo flies from the cow. Bingo! In life, they waved the colours high,In death, they still reach for the sky.Their love for the flag, it never did fade,Their spirit lives on, in the fabric they craved. And yet, I watch the magic that they bringWith ease and supple strength and smiling face.They leap and spin and fly and then they swing,Theres nothing that they do thats commonplace. Some travel afar, others stay nearbySome pedal fast, some slowBut in common with the lot of usIs the desire to just go. Beer Is Just Fine Roy Pett A humorous verse deliberating over the wonders of beer.The Beer Prayer anon A beer-infused version of the Lords Prayer.A Drinking Song W. B. Yeats a short verse pondering over the role of wine and love in life.Fortifying The Spirits Michael Ashby A humorous poem perfect for someone who liked a drink or two.The Lost Drink Banjo Paterson An ode to a once-in-a-lifetime drink concoction that was never found again. Poems for those who suffered from Alzheimers during their life. Ring out the old, ring in the new,Ring, happy bells, across the snow:The year is going, let him go;Ring out the false, ring in the true. 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. The Moment You Left Dad, the moment you left me My world came crashing down My memories of you remain with me But it doesn't feel right to not have you around Funeral Poems: 45 Beautiful Readings for Memorial Services - Sympathy The pieces on the floorThey are there but nothing moreLike the pieces of a heartI can glue them part by partIm gonna build a Lego houseAnd a Lego bridgeFor my Lego spouse, Im gonna place them one by oneFor my Lego sonand my Lego friendsThey never run awayThey never leave me in the waves, Lego loveLego hatredLego buildings that Ive created, I might be out of mindout of sightout of timebut Im forever the queen of my Lego house, I might be out of loveout of touchout of soundbut Im forever the queen of my Lego house. The fistic world was dull and weary,But with a champ like Liston, things had to be dreary.Then someone with color and someone with dash,Brought fight fans a-runnin with plenty of cash.For I am the man this poem is about,The next champ of the world, there isnt a doubt.Iamthe greatest! Eyes the shady night has shutCannot see the record cut,And silence sounds no worse than cheersAfter earth has stopped the ears. She had a collection, an unusual collection, Of four thousand and forty two, Colourful, shapely, dangly rings, From green to gold to blue. Darts David E. Navarro A short verse about the trivial nature of darts compared to much of lifes pleasures.The Eight-Foot Mark Noel E. Williamson Some advice in rhyme about the game of darts and also life.Take It Easy Noel E. Williamson Some more advice from Williamson on darts and life. A man who loves this land,And the beauty of its sand.I know of a springs fresh flowAnd autumns golden glow,Of a newborn calfs hesitation,And the eagles destination. Martial arts is so much more than just a fighting art:It strengthens one spiritually by connecting the soul and heart,Martial arts does more than strengthening the mind, body and soul,It teaches you discipline, lessons to keep emotions under control. That man would rock me off to sleep,Would wipe my tears when I did weep.He watched me go from crawl to walk,And smiled with pride when I learned to talk. So long as love and hope and dreamsAbide in earth and sky,Weep not for me, though I be gone.I shall not really die. You may have thought I didnt see,Or that I hadnt heard,Life lessons that you taught to me,But I got every word. originally titled What Is Dying? by Rev. Soft whistlingBats perched on the ceilingTears of the cavesDripping and echoingGentle lapping waterAcross rocking shoresGlowing mushrooms andGlowing wormsStalactites and stalagmitesShuddering in placeWarm, soft breathsOf bears who hibernateThe cave is sleepingBut very aliveAnd it is singingA mournful goodbye. Mum would cook our dinnerDad came home at fiveWe were all sitting at the tableWaiting for him to arrive. Poems for Funerals - Etsy Grampa anon A short poem about a caring, loving, and very dear grandfather.Granddad Fiona Bourke A poem letting our grandad know that we will never stop loving them.A Grumpy Old Man Tony Jennett An amusing poem discussing all the traits of a typical grumpy old man.Goodbye, Grandad Sarah Harrison A goodbye to a grandfather who gave so much to his descendants.A Poem For My Granddad Dennis Taylor A sweet poem from a grandchild to a beloved grandfather. A Fleeting Image Avi Fleischer A beautiful poem about life with several artistic metaphors.Go On With The Day Silvia Hartmann A poem urging those left behind to marvel at the beauty and art within life.Importance of Art Komal Jindal A poem highlighting the deceaseds artistic achievements.We Are All Painters Ola Radka A short verse arguing that everyone paints their life with beauty and emotion. Ill see you next week! A. Alene Centanni. The Song of the Reel by W. E. Hutchinson. Fortifying The Spirits - Michael Ashby - A humorous poem . I Juggle As I Go Mark Gregory A poem that mimics the rhythmic repetition of juggling, and, indeed, of life.The Juggler Richard Wilbur A poem that uses a juggler as ametaphorfor the kind of change one needs in life. You are loved so much. It's a powerful memorial poem to celebrate someone who knew they were dying and lived life to its fullest up until their last breath. Anger, hate, sorrow and fear, emotions within meant to be kept at bay,Courage, patients, persistence within ones mind and soul each dayThe art of fighting is so much more than just effective ways to kill,It sharpens and enriches the human mind with each new learned skill. We have a lot to be thankful for,The memories through the years.The many times together,Full of laughter, full of tears. Here is the funeral poem: Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Thtitiede. Poems for those who had a passion for butterfly collecting and breeding, or just enjoyed watching them flutter by. Poems for those who enjoyed the challenges of rock climbing, hiking, and fell-walking. Ineffective? God saw him getting tiredAnd a cure was not to beSo he put His arms around himAnd whispered Come to me.. 11 min read. Luther F. Beecher. 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. 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. Damn, what a show, we cry:The boys stamp, and the girlsShriek, and the drum boomsAnd all come down, and he bows and says good-bye. Poems and Readings For Funerals - guardianangel.network The first candle represents our grief. The Carpenter Paul Warren A poem not about death, but about highlighting the skill and talent of a woodworker.The Carpenter Lives On anon A poem that highlights the legacy of a carpenter in all the things he created.The Chips Are Down Michael Ashby A humorous poem where the carpenter laments not building his own coffin.The Master Carpenter G. E. Nordell A religious poem about a carpenter building a throne for God in heaven. Heaven lit up with a mighty presence,as the Angels all looked down.Today the Lord was placing the jewelsInto my mothers crown. Ring out old shapes of foul disease;Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;Ring out the thousand wars of old,Ring in the thousand years of peace. Never walk behind the bowler's arm - Yorkshire Bylines I will always remember you, brother of mine.In my heart I will keep you, so I will be fine. The driver sees it differently, with their car becomes a part,Take the road together, hit the road, with a single beating heart,The turbos rising wail, and the exhausts muscled, subtle growl,To the drivers ear, an orchestra, theres music in that howl. Short Poems For Funerals: Simple Messages For The Grieving I pray that if a batsmanLoops a ball into my lap,Ill pouch it without too much fuss,And get a well-earned clap. If in this way you see yourself reflected,And all these things you have already done.A pigeon fancier there can be detected,And what is more, a good one, too, my son. I imagine you dancingSkipping among the cloudsHappily singing with the angelsLooking down upon the crowds. Iron horses, hundreds strong,Come thundring through the gate;Sleeping souls on notice, fallenBiker nears his fate. Because your heart was simply gold,What a shame, you werent that old,Gone now for good, not good youve gone,Our memories will linger on. And will any say when my bell of quittance is heard in the gloom,And a crossing breeze cuts a pause in its outrollings,Till they rise again, as they were a new bells boom,He hears it not now, but used to notice such things? A Fantastic Football Fan Anthea Ballam A poem perfect for a huge fan of the beautiful game.The Footballers Prayer Paul Cookson An adaptation of the Lords Prayer, but football themed!The Goalie With Expanding Hands Paul Cookson A poem fitting most of all for an excellent goalkeeper.The Passing Of A Footballer Michael Ashby A poem comparing heaven to a football squad.You Loved The Game Mark Gregory A poem for someone who spent their career wowing fans on the pitch. Through our tears we look upwards to see [person] watching over us. Building A Legacy Mark Gregory A lovely little poem for a creative and passionate Lego builder.Lego House Britney Njomo I might be out of mindbut Im forever the queen of my Lego house.Ode To My Legos Dylan Harvey A poem ideal for the death of a child whose had a marvellous time with Lego. The scent of the roast,The hiss of the brew,The warmth of the cup,It all reminds us of you. 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. So when you talk of family lifeOr how it used to beThough many had more moneyNone were as rich as me. Butterflies From Heaven anon A poem about what it might mean when a butterfly comes to you.Butterfly Kisses John F. Connor A poem which equates the butterfly to the spirit of those who have left us behind.Little Butterfly Amy Farquhar A poem for a person who lived their life cocooned within the love of their friends.On A Butterflys Wings Jim Howard A short, slightly religious poem about the journey to the next life.While Waiting For Thee anon A beautiful, brief verse about the soul of the departed dancing in the air around us. People emerge from winter to hear them ring,children glitter with mischief and the blind man hearsbells in the town alight with spring.Even he on his eyes feels the caressingfinger of Persephone, and her voice escaped from tearsmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. Cricket themed reading for Dads funeral - Singletrack World Magazine Do Not Ask Me To Remember Owen Darnell A poem about how much dementia patients need their family.Mum Alison Howard A poem about dementia originally written for a mother that can be adjusted to any relation.That You Remember Me Daniel Mark Extrom A poem urging family to always remember their lost loved ones.You Have Dementia, That Is True anon A poem reflecting the challenges that come with dementia later in life.Walk With Me Norma McNamara An uplifting poem about staying positive in the face of dementia. 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." 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. To say it loud was helpful,and although quite absurd,we kept repeating time againthat same annoying word. Once you have acquired the knack,Believe me, you will not look back! Dedicated To Our Fallen Heroes Katharine Blohm A poem written for the Clearview Volunteer Fire Department.Fallen Rick Hoffman Jr. A lament to a fallen firefighter who served his community proudly.Fallen Brother anon A poem dedicated to a firefighter called Chuck that is apt for any fire man or woman.The Firefighters Last Call William Robbins A poem about the final act of a brave firefighter.A Firefighters Last Words Michael Ashby A rousing call to appreciate the lifes work of a firefighter.Heroes Gone anon A poem filled with sadness and pride from a fallen firefighter to his colleagues.To Be A Fireman Edward F. Crocker A short poem about the how being a firefighter is a noble calling. 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. A golden heart stopped beatingHard-working hands put to restGod broke our hearts to prove to usHe only takes the best. And you will see. Sown in the earth by skillful handsBrought forth by sun and storm,Destined for a harvest dayFulfilled when ripe grain forms. He was teaching what it meansTo love, honor, and obey.He wanted a strong bondThat we dont see too much today. Then as the leaves tumbleRemember me as a crimson jewelAs we allcarryon, humble,Until the cows come home. The Lego builder, with skill and care,Constructed worlds, beyond compare,With towers tall, and cities fair:A legacy, to last and share. And the white light warmed him andnurtured him andfed him great peace. 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. Funeral Poems - Moving Poetry for Memorial Services | Stoneletters And there youll see the gardeners, the men and prentice boysTold off to do as they are bid and do it without noise;For, except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the birds,The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words. I feel you driftingLike a traveller in timefrom my heart, from my lovefrom my arms. For the field is full of shades as I near the shadowy coast, And a ghostly batsman plays to the bowling of a ghost, And I look through my tears . All is lost in due time. And now my race had endedSo much I have achievedI loved you all so very muchIt was so hard to leave. thanks for reminding meTheres just time before I failTo stand on ceremonyTwo rashers of best back, Should keep meSmelling sweet up the smokestackSo, mother, put the kettle on for meIts time, mother, for my long cup of tea. What are Airlines Policies on carrying ashes? Fly, fly little wingFly beyond imaginingThe softest cloud, the whitest doveUpon the wind of heavens lovePast the planets and the starsLeave this lonely world of oursEscape the sorrow and the painAnd fly again. Poems for those who lived their lives on farms and tended for cattle, crops, and land. Dont be sad for me todayFor me please do not weepCall upon your memoriesThey are yours to keep. Then there are the Jokers,theyve lots of rules, not always fair.When you let them play your game,keep watch and take good care. Out of the corner of my eye I see you there, but when I turn to look, you fade away.What I wouldnt give to just have one more day. 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. When I was knee high, I was immortalBecause my Mum always held my handI knew no harm would come to meIn this, the safest place in the land, Her hands were always there to guide meTo show me where to goHer hands were forever knittingTo keep us warm in Winters snow, They were there to wave me offEach morning when I left for schoolBecause you know she wouldnt let meGrow up to be no fool, As I started to grow olderI would walk of my own accordAnd those hands once there for safetyChanged roles to encourage and applaud, Later when I took a hand in marriageWith new little hands to hold in mineShe was always there when neededTo take their hands and give us time, For many years they still held strongWrapping presents as each birthday came alongGiving out big hugs at ChristmasIn the growing family throng, But then they started to become unsureNot remembering what to doSo I knew that it was my timeTo hold her hand and help her through, We walked so many milesIn corridors hand in handI just hope that in her own mindWe were walking in the sand. A Legacy Of Stitches Sandra E. Andersen A poem highlighting what is left behind when a skilled knitter dies.Clickety Clack Robyn OConnell A poem lauding the knitted creations that the deceased made.Rows Of Stitches Ilene Bauer A short and humorous poem about the excitement of watching someone knit.Silent Needles Jacqui Alexander A lovely rhythmic poem about the creations of a knitter.With Tender Loving Care Pam Braden A touching poem about the comfort a knitted item brings. So I kayak, and I am at peaceThis is my world; this is my wealthAnd I know this joy will never ceaseIn my kayak, I am truly myself. They fall on deaf ears, heart turned asideWaiting for someone, arms open wideI have become lost, my own mistakeI went far from them, no path to take. Im now at peace,Life battles done,Ive faced the foeAnd I have won. Together were in this relationship,We built it with care to last the whole trip,Our true destinations not marked on any charts;Were navigating to the shores of the heart. 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.