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? Friend and kin,I loved them so;Although Im gone,Im sure they know. The sails are set,the wind is east, the moorings fret.Shadows long before me lie,beneath the ever-bending sky,but islands lie behind the Sunthat I shall raise ere all is done;lands there are to west of West,where night is quiet and sleep is rest. Yes. I have not lost the magic of long days,I live them, dream them stillStill I am a master of the starry ways,And freeman of the hills;Shattered my glass, ere half the sands had run.I hold the heights, I hold the heights, I won. Chris Gayle Cricket is a team game. Uncle And Friend Michaella A. Molinski A poem for an uncle who was also considered a friend. Save The Scottish Regiments by joining them, The Fleet Air Arm and the War in Europe - 1939-1945 by David Hobbs, A basic guide to model making by Smeggers, Modelling Forum - Military & non military models, Guidance for the public on the mental health and wellbeing aspects of COVID-19, Memorable stuff from your formative years. 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. Crickets Poems - Modern Award-winning Crickets Poetry : All Poetry Can't help with any specific reference, but Simon Barnes of the Times is a superb writer on any sport, and is always excellent on cricket (Google may help you here). A Legacy of Stitches is what we leave behind;the imprint of our very soul that lasts beyond our time.The heart that quilts knows, oh, so well the peace that can be found,as needle meets with fabric, for there is no sweeter sound.Whether quiet piecing done by hand or on our sewing machine,theres rhythm to our stitches as we sew along each seam.Those stitches tell the story of our lives as they unfoldas we think of quilts that Grandma made with stories left untold.The humdrum of our daily lives grows elegant and grand,when we start to cut the pieces, then stitch the fabric in our hands.And whatever is the reason for the quilts we piece and sew,and whoever is the maker, there is one thing that we know.Each quilt is full of memories and is a treasured thing.If quilts could talk, imagine how some quilts would surely sing!For some quilts are sewn in happy times and others when were sad,and some are sewn in laughter and others when were mad.Some are sewn to warm us, and some sewn just for fun,and some are works in progress that never quite get done!Some quilts are sewn for beauty, a quilt made just for show,but the heart of the true quilter is the one who really knows That no matter how the quilt is stitched, we leave our mark in time.This Legacy of Stitches is what we leave behind. Funeral Poems - Mark Your Occasion Ive grown up with your values,And Im very glad I did;So heres to you, dear father,From your forever grateful kid. Not quite a reading, but maybe verses from "when an old cricketer leaves the crease", a song by Roy Harper. 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. Remember me as I used to be.Think of me; remember my smile,The love we shared; linger awhile.I am at peace now, I am me.At rest for all eternity. Some people say keeping a barIs the worst job on the EarthI know the truth; how wrong they areIf only they knew its worth! A Long Cup Of Tea Michael Ashby A humorous poem about not dying, but going for a long cuppa instead.A Moment Of Tranquility Mark Gregory A poem about the inner peace found when enjoying a cup of tea.Tendrils Of Steam Mark Gregory A thoughtful poem equating the rising steam from a teacup to the spirit of life. To one who bears the sweetest nameand adds a luster to the same,who shares my joy, who cheers when sad,the greatest friend Ive ever had. This simple cup of tea,Is a reminder of all that is fleeting,All that is beautiful and transient,In this world of ours. Verses are listed by category, and alphabetically. Excludes Gift Memberships, Discount applies to first year. 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 must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life.To the gulls way and the whales way where the winds like whetted knife:And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long tricks over. I light a candle in loving memory of you:Its flame flickers like the spark you lit in me.The wax melts away like moments in timeTil we meet again.So shines a symbol of hopein a sorrow-filled world.The wicks warmth keeps the flame alightlike my faith within keeps me alive.Smoke spirals into the sky towards yousaying your name.The shimmering shine spreads peaceand parts the shadows.Its illuminating light lifts my soul to youand combines our consciousness.The flame of the candle may blow outbut the flame of our lovewill always burn in my heart. Sometimes Jacks come out to play,theyre a joyful bunch and kind.It happens they overrule the Kings,but isnt it true that love is blind? One, Two, Three, Four Mark Gregory A poem ideal for the death of a former model and fashion designer.A Photo anon An intimate poem about the feelings that arise upon seeing a beautiful photo of a person. I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done. Poems for those who shared a passion for literature, or who worked in a literary setting during their life. With a nod of the head, or a grip of the hand,He will give you his bond, that for ever will stand,And nothing much safer youll find in the land;For that is the badge of a Yorkshireman. These our actors,As I foretold you, were all spirits andAre melted into air, into thin air:And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,The cloud-cappd towers, the gorgeous palaces,The solemn temples, the great globe itself,Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolveAnd, like this insubstantial pageant faded,Leave not a rack behind. When We Lose a Loved One When we lose a loved one Our world just falls apart We think that we cant carry on With this broken heart Everything is different now You're upset and you're annoyed Your world it seems is shattered There's such an awful void The empty spots beckon; They yearn to be filled And if Im successful Im quietly thrilled. Thanks to Roger. Stretching my limbsChoreographing on a whimAlways aiming to be strongerTo hold my arabesque longer. To be free of regretIn your old age,Never ever forgetTo fully live today! I will miss youOh so much.So will allThe lives thatYou haveTouched. So, Granddad, I will say goodbye.I love and miss you with all my heart,But as long as I have my loving memories,We will never be too far apart. I shall remain in hearts and mindsOf loved ones that I knew,And in the rocks and hills and streamsBecause I love those, too. 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. cricket poems for funerals. Should you require a celebrant for your ceremony, be it a funeral, a wedding, a naming ceremony or something else, feel free to get in touch. Is there anyway we could carry out this request please if possible? Hers was a life full of kindness and heart,She was selfless, private, but always played her partCaring for animals to her was like art,And her example inspired many others to start. It serves as a mark of respect to all who played in 2010 and as a memorial to the unknown village side, especially to those who may knowingly or unknowingly . 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. Poems for someone who had a full and successful life. Walk a while with me my friends, walk with me today,Come and see what I see, and listen to what I say,Yes I have dementia, and sometimes I get worse,Please be very grateful, that you dont have this curse,But are we all that different, the likes of you and me?We breathe the same; we feel the same, the same things we do seeThe only different my friends, I dont feel that well,When I cant remember, everything you tell,My heart beats just as quickly as yours, my blood runs just as fast,But because of my dementia, my shadow, it is cast,Its the shadow cast by others, that takes away my light,Turns my life to darkness, my pleasure to frightFor when you cast that shadow, and it comes my way,It drains me of my energy, makes me hide, or run away,Sometimes I do different things, my mind is not my own,But do YOU never talk to yourself, when you are alone?So am I all that different? originally titled What Is Dying? by Rev. Hell, no!, Apparently this a a Facebook Page called Why I love cricket, Starboard 10, Round again, pull in the buoys. 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. Turned out from my hipsNo words coming from my lipsI dance sweetly to the soundOoh ballet, to you, I am bound. I pray the umpire knows his job,And doesnt lift his finger.But if he does I pledge to you:Ill not forlornly linger. 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. Guest. There is an old belief that the stars shining in the night sky are the spirits of those who have died.They have shed their earthly bodies and exchanged them for bodies made of light;thousands upon thousands of our dear departed friends all promoted to glory in the night sky.There is another saying that the brightest flame burns the shortest. 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. A 93rd minute winner ensures the days before the next game are filled with hope, a thumping defeat fills hearts with despair. My mind has ways of taking mewhere I dont want to go.I know I know you name, you see;Just right now its hard for meto think of things I really knowand to know what really is,and what may not be so. The poems on this page are suitable for any loved one. And you will see. Your angels share is there to be asked forOf the malt whisky escaped from oak casksYou can savour a peaty Macallan 46For a drink that will forever last. The archer and his bow:Take aim and let the arrow fly,It hits, fast as lightning A perfect bulls-eye. Theres a picture I cant look away fromWith simplicity of your innocence.Theres a picture of what love can becomeWith simplicity, strength and elegance. Life Is Chess anon A thoughtful poem about how chess reflects life but its only a game, right?Not Much For Games Hans Ostrom An anti-board game poem for someone who preferred fairness and solitude.Rest In Peace, Chess Master Mark Gregory A poem for a skilled and passionate chess player.The Scrabble King Spencer Stoddard A poem highlighting someones total domination of the game of Scrabble. Karate is a quiet art,Yet speaks louder than a shout.It moves with grace, a work of heart,And can turn a life around. 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. I . Would you volunteer to be Captain, Lord?To ensure there is fair play?For if you draw the cards, and measure,I hope to play for you someday. Villanelle Of Spring BellsBells in the town alight with springconverse, with a concordance of new airsmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. It knocks down the road toward the next wreckers yard,And it cant get far; whos driving this car? Ineffective? There were a couple of muckers who mixed up the cement,they were forever subbing so they never paid their rent. You can also find an index of topics at the top of this page. 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. Are there Bowling Greens in Heaven Lord?Crown Greens I mean for me?Will there be lush grass, warm breezesAnd endless cups of tea? Foster A poem for a child born with a disability who is lost to the world too soon. The Trout Brook by Ralph E. McMillin. Gambling: a lie appliedto organized theft. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. Post author: Post published: June 8, 2022; Post category: what happened after mao zedong died; Post comments: . The Lego builder, with skill and care,Constructed worlds, beyond compare,With towers tall, and cities fair:A legacy, to last and share. !Farewell to conventions I give up the fight.So I leave with few words but some that are true,Bridge is a game not for me but for you. From hoops, to drops, to barbell hugs, She loved wearing tiny rocks, But no one can actually see her now, Shes become a walking jewellery box! For untying the strings that held them,when they grew up and left home.I give you this one for courage.Then the Lord added a garnet stone. Sometimes your steps are very fast,Sometimes theyre hard to see,So walk a little slower Daddy,For you are leading me. Tiny Angel, look at me,I want this image clearThat I will forget your precious faceIs my biggest fear. You are a breath of fresh air on a hot summers night.When there is darkness, you turn on the light. Poems for those who savoured the taste of coffee and relished it as more than just a boost of caffeine. - Navjot Sidhu 5 1 Add a comment The third umpires should be changed as often as nappies and for the same reason. At Lords Francis Thompson A condensed version by the famous poet encapsulating the atmosphere at Lords.Cricketers Last Boundary Michael Ashby A poem for a cricket-lover full of cricketing metaphors.A Cricketers Prayer anon A prayer that the game of cricket (and life) will be won, or at least be fair.The Cricketers Prayer East Leeds CC An adaptation of the Lords Prayer put together by a Yorkshire club. Dont Quit John Greenleaf Whittier An inspirational poem urging those listening not to give up when times are hard.Olympic Games Ken Budden A acrostic poem reflecting on the hard work required to win a medal for your country.Olympic Race Victoria Seale-Constantinou A poem comparing life to an Olympic race, and reflecting upon its end.To An Athlete Dying Young A. E. Houseman A poem reflecting upon the premature death of a sportsman. One more day to hold your handand to watch you live your life as you planned. 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. Your life has purpose.God sent you on a mission.To live, to love, to learn Is His commission. 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. 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. This world of rayAnd shark, of fish and whale, of wonderful creaturesOf strange colours, shapes, and featuresLies beneath the foam and waves of the sea.Ancient reefs call to meTo come and share in their beauty,To bathe in their serenity.This deep blue world of perfectionMassages my soul, and relieves the tensionOf living on the noisy land,For here no noise disturbs the sandOr coral or walls or caves,Nor are they disturbed by wavesWhich crash around the land worlds rim.This deep blue world remains calm in dimSubdued light filtered and made gentle by the depths.I feel a part, but am only a guestIn this undersea EdenFrom which I must depart for a season,Left to remember, and to anticipate the dayWhen I may return. Fly Like A Bird Javon Evans A poem detailing how wonderful and freeing it would be to fly.In Memoriam Victoria Bruce A poem encouraging mourners to think of the deceased in natures finer details.No Fear Of Flying anon A message from the deceased that they are no afraid to fly or to die. Our fishermanWho art on riverbanksAngler be thy nameThy fishing season comesThy casting will be doneThe weather will be heavenly.Give us this day lots of bitesAnd forgive us our laughterAs we forgive you, yourLies about the one that got away.Lead us to a shoal of fishAnd deliver us a big catchFor thine is the carpThe Pike and the TroutForever and ever,Amen. We light this candle that your light may always shineWith the love that you gave to us all. When playing darts, it is agreed,A steady hand is what you need. And when he died at just years,his brother comforted me,with, I expect God wants to put him right,but we missed him dreadfully. Now both of us have been to school though many years ago we both have passed our English gradesbut still we do not know! Show all. I doubt Ill get to heaven with an invite from the man,so I parked my bike grabbed a beer and built myself this plan!Im building myself a ramp as tall as ever seen,Ill supercharge my bike, and add a couple wings!Timing will be critical, speed will factor in,angle and approach and Ill whistle me a tune!Then one day when my journey is coming to its end,Open up them pearly gates cause this bikers jumpin in! I stop breathing in my sleep due to sleep apnea so the nighttime (pre-fall) crickets are comforting, My friend Roger Illsley wrote some music for this and recorded it--for the langstonify channel on Youtube. Twenty-four numbers and one free space,Bingo players, find your place!Hoping to win if you are ableWith the cards that lay upon the table. I was here, I used it all,and now I am at peace. crunch! Cried and yelled at the moonand crushed nightmaresDrank together and helped each otherback to bed. Though I see the branches swaying.And watch their dancing leavesThe echoes carried on the windDont sound the same to meAs I listen to the morning birdsSing softly from afar It seems to be a mournful tuneThat echoes in my heart. A humanist funeralis a non-religious ceremony that focuses on the person who has died, the life they led, and the relationships they forged. From stretcher to oar with drive and draw,He speeds the boat along.All whalebone and steel and a willowy feel,That is the oarsmans song. The Sadness Of Clothes Emily Fragos A poem about the sad things clothes might feel when their owner dies.A True Fashionista Mark Gregory A short poem highlighting how the deceaseds beauty will live on after death.

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