I dont know when it started,Or how it all began,But God created families,As only our Lord can. Im confused beyond your concept,I am sad and sick and lost.All I know is that I need youTo be with me at all cost. 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. 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. But that apron had more usesThan I could ever count.It brought in eggs and vegetablesAnd could hold a large amount. Poems for those who shared a passion for literature, or who worked in a literary setting during their life. The steps grew larger, the land less greatMy eyes more tired, my path less straightThe bells kept ringing, farther awayToo many to count, their sound now grey. The beauty and peace it brings my wayIs difficult to describeFor we who bike for pleasureBelong to a different tribe. A hobby, a pastime, a talent, a pleasureSome things to be worn and others to treasureHer needles now silent, not a sound they will makeBut a lesson she taught us, to give more than you take. 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. My little girl has gone,but to her little boy I will continue to sing our song. I have met him away from his own native dales,In cities and lands where strange language prevails;Yet a breath of his county he always exhales,and thus you will know hes a Yorkshireman. For you may findWhen you clear the hilly topThat the brakes of life may seizeAnd take you to a messy stop. When you hold this blanket in your armsAnd close your eyes real tightYou can feel the love I tucked insideWhen I made this late one night. Each angel was a fishermanWho had traded his poleFor golden wings and a game planAt Heavens Fishing Hole. Last Journey Timothy Coote A rhythmic poem ideal for someone who loved locomotives. Similar . I know how much it hurt your soulWhen we had to say goodbyeBut Im not gone, Im always hereI am your butterfly. I pray the umpire knows his job,And doesnt lift his finger.But if he does I pledge to you:Ill not forlornly linger. For forty years Ive lived with God,Oft from the haunts of men.Ive thought upon His wondrous wordAnd scenes beyond our ken. Three weeks after her death,a stranger entered the salonand settled in the chair.She had the colour and shapeof his mothers hair,and when he sunk his hands in it,the texture, even cowlicks,individual as frecklessame.Twice he had to leave the room,and twice, he returnedstill,when he touched her hair, it blurred.Hold still, he said, hold still. I hope youre dancing in the skyAnd I hope youre singing in the angels choirAnd I hope the angels know what they haveIll bet its so nice up in heaven since you arrivedI hope you are dancing in the sky. 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. Ring in the valiant man and free,The larger heart, the kindlier hand;Ring out the darkness of the land,Ring in the Christ that is to be. Dear God, Please Take Care Of My Little Girl Terry Gouveia A religious poem asking God to take care of a child.Heartfelt Memories anon A poem highlighting the wonder and light that a daughter brought to our lives.My Tiny Butterfly Ann Lundrigan A poem about a mothers bond with her daughter, who has passed.Our Song Jodi M. Kucera A poem to be used for the loss of a daughter who has children of her own.The Twilight Hours Christine Bevington A poem about those late night hours when your thoughts carry you away. 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. But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cagecan seldom see throughhis bars of ragehis wings are clipped andhis feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing. Crouching down low, I wait for the starters gunBang! Dont look to right or left at all,For that is how the mighty fall! And what do we see?There is a new star shining in the sky tonight. We open the cupboard filled to the brimAnd wonder which game will be todays unholy sin:The boxes are faded and tattered, well worn,All filled with memories from since we were born.Theres dice and board, and card and stickWhich is the one that will be todays pick? Death is Not the End Nature would speak to usOur world would become onewith peace and understandingand a little bit of fun. The water can be healing It always was for me Just take time to rememberAnd I think that you will see. We laughed we joked we talked we ateWe were a family dont you seeThough some may have been raised poorYou can see it wasnt me. A timers ringing in my earThe dish of my lifetime is finally hereLove, family, friendship and cakeIngredients that really helped keep me awakeBut Ive now run out of that most important of allIve scoured the kitchen and even searched the hallIf only Id been more sage with my thymeAnd possibly quaffed alittleless wineSo please stand and shout with me, if you dont mindMORE THYME! 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. 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. Your life was fueled by coffee,That much we know is true.It was more than just a drink,But a way of life for you. That our caravanning days togetherHave now ended that is trueBut travel on my darlingAnd think of me as you do. They move through threatening ghostsFeeling them cool as mistOn their brows. The Laughter and Love anon A poem reflecting how the deceased always filled a room with laughter and love.My Funny Friend anon A poem for a very specific character of person, who was funny, weird and kind all at once.Pardon Me For Not Getting Up Kelly Roper A humorous message from the deceased to the mourning. Your labor is done, your home now is heaven; no more must you wait,Your legacy lives on, your love of the land, and we will close the gate. If someone had to describe you, so many words come to mind.Beauty and grace, a heart so kind. So darling please tend to the candle for meAnd nourish the flame lest it diesTill the day when its radiant beauty I seeAnd it guides me at last to your side. - Navjot Sidhu 4 0 Add a comment Wickets are like wives, you never know which way they will turn! 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. I stand on the podium, proud and boldIm wearing a medalAn Olympic Gold! Its been a long time since we first felt the beginning to this end.And today we pray before you; your family and your friends.Weve watched your thoughts get more obscure with every passing day;As this heartless thing called Alzheimers made them fade away.Gradually it took the gleam from those once so loving eyes.To befall on such a giving manit seemed so unjustified.Stripping you of everything, leaving nothing in its placeExcept a look of sadness left upon your face.As long as we have searched, through all the tears weve criedWeve tried to find the reason for this long good-bye.But now its time to take back all your memoriesAs you are finally free from this cruel disease.We pledge to remember the man that you once were;A good hearted, giving man is all that will be heard.And every night when we look up and see a certain starWe will know within our hearts exactly where you are.So on this day we say good-bye as you now depart.Although far from our touch, never far from our hearts. )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! The song captures the atmosphere of a village cricket match and is an elegy to the game as played during Harper's youth. Tears water our growth." And the bar stayed open all day. Im sorry, friends, that I cant be with you here today.If youre gathered reading this, it means Ive passed away.But if I were there, Id tell you not to shed a tear or frown.Id tell you just to simply say, Another Biker has gone down.. Abraham Lincoln. I know I caused you sadness,I know caused you pain,But I was captured by these demons,They wouldnt set me free again. 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. There are 2 types of captains in World Cricket. These pieces are all about the beauty of plants. Rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, and birdsDogs, and cats, and everything furredAn interest in creatures in others she stirredAnd through illness, she went on, undeterred. Poems about people who liked a drink in a healthy way. Dear Lord, each time I bowl a frameI thank you for this striking game.Each step I take down the alleys laneIm glad I can play sunshine or rain.When Ive hooked my final Bowling BallPlease spare me a split when I answer your call,And take my mortal soul to beWith you in Heavenly Bowl. Never to kill. Guest. Youve also got some sweeties.Isnt Nana kind?I may have stolen one or two,But I knew you wouldnt mind. This bond that even death cant breakwill keep you here close by But I feel such pain and miss youmy Tiny Butterfly. Some love it for mingling with their upstanding crowdThe drinking, the laughter, the gossip so loudThey arrive at the track wearing yesterdays shoppingFor racing you say, more a spot of Box hopping. 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 will go forward with my head up high.It might be hard, I cannot lie. Whee, in the airThe balls roll around, wheel on his wheeling hands,Learning the ways of lightness, alter to spheresGrazing his finger ends,Cling to their courses there,Swinging a small heaven about his ears. [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 say that times were tough thenThat money was very tightBut I remember my childhoodAnd I know that cant be right. 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. In the Theatre Of DreamsThe lights have dimmedThe curtains about to close, Its the end of the showSadly it happened you knowLife just ebbs and flows, The cast in my lifeWere my children, my wifeNow only memories fill my head, I have lived all my dreamsNow its the end of the sceneMy script has finally been read, When you walk through a stormHold your head up highAnd dont be afraid of the dark, At the end of a stormTheres a golden skyAnd the sweet silver song of a lark, Walk on through the windWalk on through the rainFor your dreams be tossed and blown, Walk on, walk onWith hope in your heartAnd youll never walk aloneYoull never walk alone. Smooth road; never mind the few bumps; and air so fresh you could eat it in lumps. Though your heart wont let the sadnessSimply slide awayThe echoes will diminishEven though the memories stay. Knit one, purl one, knit two togetherHer woollen creations will last forever.The sound of her needles, clickety clack,Another row on the counter, turn and go back. Cosmopolitan House, Old Fore Street, Sidmouth, Devon, EX10 8LS, Contact : customerservices@thefuneralpoem.com. Poems for those who loved nothing better than riding on two wheels. Ill place a stone of amethyst, He said.For all the times you spent on your knees,when you asked if Id take care of your children,and then for having faith in Me., I have a pearl for every little sacrificethat you made without them knowing.For all the times you went without,to keep them happy, healthy and growing., And last of all I have a diamond,the greatest one of all,for sharing unconditional lovewhether they were big or small., It was you love that helped them growFeeling safe and happy and proudA love so strong and pureIt could shift the darkest cloud., After the Lord placed the last jewel in,He said, Your crown is now complete,Youve earned your place in HeavenWith your children at your feet., by Lewis Haynes (slightly adapted by Mark Gregory). Do not lose your patience with me,Do not scold or curse or cry.I cant help the way Im acting,Cant be different, though I try. It rang an alarm in the dead of the night An alarm that for years had been dumb;And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight That his hour of departure had come.Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chimeAs we silently stood by his side;But it stopped short never to go again When the old man died. But now as no seat is vacantYou will have to muddle throughMake sure you fulfil your ambitionsAs you know Ill be watching you. But here is your race medalFrom me with all my heartYoull wear my gold at every stepAnd we will never be apart. You played the game with all your soul,Giving everything to win,You pushed yourself to the brink and backTime and time again. Floral Tribute, which has been distributed by Armitage's publisher, Faber, is a double acrostic . And so we meet again today,To toast your bodys end.For it was true and faithful,Until right at the end. Coast to coast across England in one day;A hundred miles in one trip. The tired old men who napped. t206 walter johnson portrait; family jealous of my success Poems perfect for amateur and professional sailors, or simply someone who loved all things boat. The Travelers Rest always welcomes departeddrinkersWith a warm smile and a kindly nodYoull never have to put your hand in your pocket againBecause this really is a free house, thank God. Long, long afterward, in an oakI found the arrow, still unbroke.And the song, from beginning to end,I found again in the heart of a friend. 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. 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 Best Rugby Poems. You filled our home with happinessand made our life complete.The time we had with youwas far too short, but oh so sweet. The archer and his bowWithout each other are nothing,But when they come togetherThey become quite something. enter an oceanfeeling insignificant,overwhelmed by its enormity. The archer and his bow:Take aim and let the arrow fly,It hits, fast as lightning A perfect bulls-eye. She tumbles on the floor with art,Her movements swift and sure,Her strength and flexibility,So wonderful, so pure. and fought to the last breath. Climbing up inclines so tall,treading carefully as not to fallemerging from the depthstaking several deep breathsI make my way to the surfacethe thought of leaving makes me nervous. He held up a golden crown,as my darling mother looked on.He said in His gentle voice,I will now explain each one., The first gem, He said, is a Ruby,and its for endurance alone,for all the nights you waited upfor your children to come home., For all the nights by their bedside,you stayed till the fever went down.For nursing every little wound,I add this ruby to your crown., An emerald, Ill place by the ruby,for leading your child in the right way.For teaching them the lessons,That made them who they are today., For always being right there,through all lifes important events.I give you a sapphire stone,for the time and love you spent.. 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. Grandmas quilts held memories,Of bygone days and years,Of loved ones gathered round the hearth,And tales of joy and cheer. May each new day be a perfect gift.May love surround you, may your spirits lift. Well always rememberthat special smile,that caring heart,that warm embrace,you always gave us.You being therefor Grandma and usthrough good and bad times,no matter what.Well always rememberyou Grampa becausetherell never be another oneto replace you in our hearts,and the love we will alwayshave for you. Core of my heart, my country! Neville Cardus is still the gold standard for cricket-related purple prose. 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. When youre lost, when youre alone,and you can see nothing but the darkness,when the shadowy fingers of night reach out,to envelope you in their icy embrace,till every breath only causes you pain,and despair is your only loyal companion. SURLY was the crossword clue,I gave a sideways stare;my hubby gave a stifled coughand looked into the air. Pink tights by the moundBobby pins all aroundLeotards on the floorPointe shoes by the door. In the darkness of the theatreWhere the screen would light up brightThey found solace, joy, and comfortIn the stories that played each night. I thought I saw her face todayIn the sparkle of the morning sun.And then I heard the angel say,Her work on earth is done., I thought I heard her voice todayThen laugh her hearty laugh.And then I heard the angel say,Theres peace, little one, at last., I thought I felt her touch todayIn the breeze that rustled by.And then I heard the angel say,The spirit never dies., I thought that she had left meFor the stars so far above.And then I heard the angel say,She left you with her love., I thought that I would miss herAnd never find my way.And then I heard the angel say,Shes with you every day.. You know you are foreverbut its easy when were hereJust a hand away from holdingand a hug away from fearSo you have to make a promisethat your hope will never runAnd you know Ill always ride hereeven when my ridings done. 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. They help to capture the spirit of the person lost and express the feelings of the people left behind. Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.I give a share of my soul to the world where my course is run.I know that another shall finish the task I must leave undone.I know that no flower, nor flint was in vain on the path I trod.As one looks on a face through a window, through life, I have looked on God. 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. 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. They have outlivedtheir usefulness and cannot get warm and full.You talk to the clothes and explain that he is not coming back. With each step, each strike and block,The martial artists soul is free,Finding peace in every rock,And calm in every sea. Repshire: FW Harvey, Cricket, and Nostalgia. Given that Mr Ashley has a tight hold on the purse strings the future looks grim. No wound so deep will ever goEntirely awayYet every hurt becomesA little less from day to day. 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. Margaret Thatchers ashes are to be interred at the Royal Chelsea Hospital. Poems for those who had a love and appreciation for art during their life. We wouldnt eat from a microwaveOr a restaurant down the streetWe all ate Mums home cookingAnd boy that cant be beat. Bowling Ball Blues L.M. And the strong odour of fish in North Shields, stink of cattle feed outside Goole, sickly smell of plastics factory, oil newly-refined, makes you see even if youre blind. They say I walk with ease.Though trained for bodily harm, my intentions are for peace.The world may come and go, but a different path Ill choose.A path I will not stray from, no matter, win or lose. Well see your smile in every rayOf sunshine after rainAnd hear the of echo of your laughterOver all the pain. Life gave you many challenges Too many to be fair I only wish in all those timesI could have been right there. Here is a list of beautiful and comforting poems and verses for funerals and memorial services. Im thankful that my heart connects us this waya mother and child, death cant take it away! For everything we do,there is a dance to get us through.For every day,we dance our life away. 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. 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. For you had got Alzheimers,You failed to comprehend.Your body went on living.But your mind had reached its end. Like every other Yorkshire boy I dreamt of days of skill and joy Bashing centuries for the county White rose cap sufficient bounty Famous for setting new records And stuffing Middlesex at Lords. The sounds of all your heartbeatsAre my sweetest melodyAnd at all my heavenly bedtimeThe angels play it back to me. We rowed, my friend and I, out past the swallowing reeds and the water lilies to where the river opened into a world of morning light and the herons voices and the musky scent of redemption and then we dipped our oars in unison and glided silently toward heaven. I laugh and sing and jest to all, but never let them know,How hard I am at work, and how fast the moments go,I catch them as they fall and fling them to the sky,And catch them as they come back down, and so I juggle by. Her eyes were bright as shining starsAnd in her cheeks fair roses you see.We had a wonderful grandmother,And thats the way it will always be. You are using an out of date browser. Rejoice now in the knowledgeReturned to you this dayYouve always had the powerTo simply fly away. 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. The parents in the middle though,cant share this special caring,Its just for us, my Gran and I,adventures we are sharing,And even if my situations bad,my Gran is not deterred,What is it about a Grandmother?I think Love must be the word! A line, a house would pass me byThe frustration could make a grown man cry! Poems for those who enjoyed the challenges of rock climbing, hiking, and fell-walking. Its not the model of your caror brand of clothes you wear.Its not some fancy, famous name,sewn in your underwear. Theres a comedy book, Penguins Stop Play. He wanted someone strong,A support filled with love,So he created fathers,Sent from heaven up above. If, when hearing that I have been stilled at last, they stand at the door,Watching the full-starred heavens that winter sees,Will this thought rise on those who will meet my face no more,He was one who had an eye for such mysteries? 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. For they existed. Lyrics from google. Though the day was made for scaling,And the dusk gathers too soon,You and mellgono more a-climbingBy thelight of the moon. Throttle on, and forward blast, The next corner, looming fast, Leaning in hard, and tyres gripping, Miles behind me, quickly slipping, White posts like a picket fence, Concentration, full, intense.

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