The place was very quiet,But not too quiet. I see now it was love, MumThat made you come whenever Id call,Your inexhaustible love, MumAnd I thank you for it all. 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. Then at the very endWhen they were on their kneesYou still walked tallAnd like your matesYou claimed to take it allThe penalty and the strike,your wayThe win that set your heart aflameThe game, the pitch, the offside ruleThe love that took your heartYour final match at home your ball. One day youll take your journeyOn the train just like meAnd I promise that Ill be thereAt the station and you will see: That life is just a journeyEnriched by those you meetNo-one can take that from youIts always yours to keep. 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. The other equipment needed is a solid leather wrapped ball, a bat (one per batsman.) His labourers name was Dodger who would work now and then, most of the time was spent at The Bookies placing bets for other men. 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. Im climbing a mountainI stop just to gaze at the view,So clear the horizonLike my every dream has come true. But you think I am goneYou dont see me, but I can see youWhatever the problems, I will help you get through. To shake our gravity up. Search the forum using the power of Google, Lost my Dad recently and my son is hoping to do a reading at the memorial service at church. I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,And the wheels kick and the winds song and the white sails shaking,And a grey mist on the seas face and a grey dawn breaking. 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. Avaruus Ja Thtitiede. 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. His was a life full of kindness and heart,He was selfless, private, but always played his partCaring for animals to him was like art,And his example inspired many others to start. Poems for those who made a career moulding and shaping wood, or who simply enjoyed it as a pastime. We did so much togetherrode in carsshared our lovenear the campfireWith soft and tender armsTamed broken pasts. Time for us to part now, we wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, shining in the sky.Every waking moment, and all your whole life throughJust look for me and love me, as you know I loved you. - Navjot Sidhu 5 1 Add a comment The third umpires should be changed as often as nappies and for the same reason. To the living, I am gone, To the sorrowful, I will never return, To the angry, I was cheated, But to the happy, I am at peace, And to the faithful, I have never left. But I am a man who loves his jobAnd the life I live. 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. I loved when that engine rumbled,And the biker friends who rode with me, would help me when I stumbled.You are amongst my dearest friends, brothers and sisters of the road,Weve travelled many miles together, shared many heavy loads. It was the way he moved that made him seemSo much a part of what he did;In every somersault and cartwheelHe seemed to turn himself to air. Each time we see a little cloudOr a rainbow soaring highWell think of you and gentlyWipe a tear from our eye. With every punch and every hitIt demonstrates its strength and skillIts resilience, its steel and gritIts honour, courage, and will. Some of the verses have been written by me; others have been used in my ceremonies; yet more are simply verses that I like, and believe can be useful in certain scenarios. 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. And though they may be gone now, Their love will always stay, A beacon shining bright and true, To guide us on our way. 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. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. We forged our bond with love, not tears,Linking arms, we walked as one,Now is my turn to rest a while,I have reached the final stile,But you must carry on. On a fair day by accident, afterThe bargains are all made and we can walkTogether through the shops and stalls and marketsFree in the oriental streets of thought. I would be wearing a favourite dressYou as always looking your usual bestFeeling like Cinderella at the BallWith the most handsome Prince Charming of all. Mighty proud! We light this candle that your light may always shineWith the love that you gave to us all. as when he showed up immaculately dressed in slacks and plaid jacketand had that beautiful smile on and youd talk.Youd go to get something and come back and hed be gone. There . Blessed art Thou oh Lord our God!Thou hast made the sand, the grass the trees,and gently in the tallest oak,You waft a gentle breeze.You drew the bubbling little brook.You painted the placid pond.You sigh the deepest twilight.And smile the brightest dawn.Beneath the fog, beneath the mist,that drifts across the ground,You twirl Your mighty finger,and spin this world around.The hills, the valleys, the winding wood,inspire a soul to sing,was ever there such beauty, Lordwhere rolls the emerald greenOh God, I know You are a golfer,Your work does thus demand.It seems Your only handicap,is this thing that You call man.Can this be an island, Lord?A place of grace and charm.Away from daily trouble Lord,away from daily harm?We pray that this may be, dear God,a place where love extends.Where travellers come as strangersand golfers leave as friends! Under the wide and starry sky,Dig the grave and let me lie.Glad did I live and gladly die,And I laid me down with a will. and whatever a sun will always sing is you. The sky became your deep blue seaThe clouds became your shoreAnd there, for all eternityYou sat with friends galore. His Mothers Hair April Ossman A poem reminding us that we find reminders of our lost loved ones at any moment.Life As A Hairdresser Amanda Knowles A poem about the ups and downs of working in the hairdressing profession.What Secrets Are Revealed Lynne Howard A poem about the conversations to be had in a hairdressers chair. I guess he wrote a lot more in a similar vein. Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye. 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. While most of us are fast asleepAs the moon begins its fall,And drifts its gentle lightAcross the clock upon the wall;Theres others who have left their bedsTheres hoof beats in the dawn,And out upon the training trackThe music of the morn.The frost lays thick upon the groundAnd shines upon the roofs,And all around, the lovely soundA thousand steel shod hoofs,A scraping here, a snorting thereA jockeys curse, a whinny;A trainer feeling tender legsDamn, that colts gone shinny.The flaring nostrils show soft red,A roll, hose, scrape and lead,The rug thrown on, and off back homeTo munch the morning feedAnd as they leave, some more come inWhile the sun turns red at dawnTo the clatter of a thousand hoofs,The music of the morn.So when I die I hope that ICan chat with old Saint Peter,And that dear chap would understandThat nothing could be sweeterFor me, to go where the horses runDown a track thats long and worn,To hear once more, the glorious sound;The music of the morn. I have lied in the sight of the oceanWhere the water runs into the landI have walked on the beach in the morningAnd left my footprints in the sandBut musical waves have been callingAnd the ocean is so wide and vastThat Ive struck for the silver horizonAnd put out to sea at last. As you touched our livesWith your generosity and careYour laughter and love always shone through. Theres not a pair of legs so thin, theres not a head so thick,Theres not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick.But it can find some needful job thats crying to be done,For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one. 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. Yet my love of cricket was hereditary. Wheeling through the beautiful countrysideFar from the citys commotionAlone, just me, my bike, my thoughtsThe joy of quiet motion. Its anyone youve ever lovedwho mourns you in the end. Not just a freeway drive, but each outing on a mission,And not a veering trundle, but a task of deep precision,Not the tedium of traffic, relief at the arriving,The thrill is in the journey, and the passion in the driving. To hunt a bird,To wet a line,Gifts from God,So good and fine. The water can be healing It always was for me Just take time to rememberAnd I think that you will see. All is lost in due time. We wouldnt eat from a microwaveOr a restaurant down the streetWe all ate Mums home cookingAnd boy that cant be beat. Poems for those who had plenty of furry and feathered friends. But such a tide as moving seems asleep,Too full for sound and foam,When that which drew from out the boundless deepTurns again home! The years went by so quicklyfrom when I held you at my breast To watch you grow to a beautiful womanand finally leave the nest. This bond that even death cant breakwill keep you here close by But I feel such pain and miss youmy Tiny Butterfly. You would need to contact the club directly try reception@mcc.org.uk to start with. There are so many poems for funerals available, that you have plenty to choose from. 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. You are loved so much. How to Seal your Memorial Charm Jewellery, Biodegradable Urns for the Sea, Lake or River. Turned out from my hipsNo words coming from my lipsI dance sweetly to the soundOoh ballet, to you, I am bound. The Dash Linda Ellis A verse pondering on making the most of the years between birth and death.If Rudyard Kipling Kiplings famous poem about what it means to be a man.A Life Well Lived anon A poem for someone who lived life to its fullest.Man In The Mirror Dale Wimbrow A reflective piece suggesting the most important opinion of you is your own.A Song Of Living Amelia Josephine Burr A verse which suggests loving life and living it fully leads to no regrets.Success Bessie Anderson Stanley A reflection upon what it means to be successful in life.Successful Life Eugene Grinman A poem pondering over what it means to have lived a successful life.The Time Is Now Bettina Van Vaerenbergh A poem encouraging us all to live well, and live in the now.When Great Trees Fall Maya Angelou A poem in free verse about how we feel when great people die. Members of the Club stand post,Proud brothers in the wind;Shaded eyes the tears disguise,And loss they feel within. - "Everything brown is not chocolate.". Fly, fly little wingFly where only angels singFly away, the time is rightGo now, find the light. Rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, and birdsDogs, and cats, and everything furredAn interest in creatures in others she stirredAnd through illness, she went on, undeterred. Aunts have no wands or wings,So they work with wisdom, love, and things.Having taken on this role,You loved me right down to my soul. The Driver Graeme Cook A gorgeous poem for those who felt at one with their car, rather than merely driving it.Fast Car Jamie Blake A hectic poem ideal for some who drove fast and perhaps passed away in a motoring accident.Racing Car Poem Martin Dejnicki A poem about racing, perhaps Formula 1, and the adrenaline rush it produces.Whos Driving This Car? Im now at peace,Life battles done,Ive faced the foeAnd I have won. We would all sit at the tableEveryone in their placeThere were never any surprisesWe recognised every face. I do not think of you lying in the wet clayOf a Monaghan graveyard; I seeYou walking down a lane among the poplarsOn your way to the station, or happily. Scatter my ashes at Pemaquid Point*,Let the wind sail them home to the sea.Cradle of life, be my cradle in death,And set my spirit free. Dont judge me for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. I am a sailor, youre my first mate,We signed on together, we coupled our fate,Hauled up our anchor, determined not to fail,For the hearts treasure, together we set sail. Coffee In Heaven John Agard A poem wondering whether the coffee in heaven is actually any good.Fuelled By Coffee Mark Gregory A poem for someone whose daily life revolved around coffee.The Warmth Of Your Love Mark Gregory A poem for a warm-hearted soul who loved sharing a coffee. You can shed tears that he is goneOr you can smile because he has lived, You can close your eyes and pray that he will come backOr you can open your eyes and see all that he has left, Your heart can be empty because you cant see himOr you can be full of the love that you shared, You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterdayOr you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday, You can remember him and only that he is goneOr you can cherish his memory and let it live on. This poem by Robert Burns describes a friend who is an honest man, a guide to youth and an informed human being. 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. If Id met her in a cavein the darkwhere no light ever livedshe would still be the brightest thing Id ever seenfor it aways was the way she wasnever the way she lookedthat made her so beautiful to meand beautiful she wasthough I never let it blind mefor it was only when I closed my eyesand stood in that darkest cavethat she truly blinded mewith beauty. Repshire: FW Harvey, Cricket, and Nostalgia. Slumber sweetly little oneUpon your dusty bed.The earth be both your blanketAnd pillow for your head. And so we meet again today,To toast your bodys end.For it was true and faithful,Until right at the end. The Boxer Ross Dix-Peek A poem telling the tale of a physicially worn-out boxer whose mind is still sharp and agile.I Am The Greatest Cassius Clay Muhammed Alis famous poem from the 1960s.Poem for a Boxer At Rest Gabrielle Tinti A poem originally in Italian about a boxer who has fought his last fight. And although this pain is painful,And I really dont wanna let you go.Ill wait for death to take me Nan,So we can together one day glow. The fences have all been mended. Love is like a game of cards,you win, you pass, you lose.Life is like a poker game,depends which bluff you choose. Villanelle Of Spring BellsBells in the town alight with springconverse, with a concordance of new airsmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. May 5, 2020 - Explore Nancy Schlag's board "cowboy prayers" on Pinterest. Without any doubt or fearmy favourite drink is surely beer,anything from pale, to brown alein fact any beer thats on sale,never halves, only pints or largerstout, bitter, smooth or golden lager,wonderful taste of malt and hopsproduced from ripe natural crops,must be drunk cold never warmdrinking good beer will do no harm,beer surely doesnt cause a beer bellydrink too much makes you very silly,you can keep your spirits and winea good pint of beer to me is just fine,beer is drunk north, south, east and westevery country thinks their beers the best. In life, he found his greatest joyIn this game of queens and kings,Now, as he rests beneath the soil,We remember all of his wins. I will not cast the first stoneI have none in my handEven though your life at timesWas not how I had planned. So as we gather here today, To say our last goodbyes, We know that they will always beIn our hearts and in our minds.