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Like life. He loved to pop out for a walk or a stroll,But illness and age in the end took its tollHis passing will leave in our lives a great hole,Hell be missed as a wonderfully generous soul. When beauty, grace and strength are all combinedIn vault, uneven bars and floor and beam,Young girls, petite, yet strong and well defined,Then dance and jump and swing, each with a dream. An opal-hearted country, a wilful, lavish land All you who have not loved her, you will not understand Though earth holds many splendours, wherever I may die,I know to what brown country my homing thoughts will fly. When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay,And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say,He was a man who used to notice such things? You loved the game, with all your heart,You chased the ball with might,You ran and kicked and passed and shot,With skill and speed and fight. Capitulation anon A poem about the highs and lows of bridge, and always being on the verge of quitting.The Gambler Kenny Rogers The lyrics to Rogers infamous song about the train ride with the gambler.A Keen Bridge Player Simon Lucas A humorous limerick about forgetting to remove the jokers! Immediately they,vie for position.Victory and glory,is their common mission. And you will see. So please bear with us, dear audienceAnd act your part as well:We salute a thespian titanWho had such a good life to tell. The warriors spirit is like a flameThat burns so bright, lighting the wayAnd its fire will always remainIn the hearts of those who train each day. Poems for those who loved exploring the darkest depths of the oceans. 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. And Rest Rev. Kayaking Mark Gregory A poem about the peace and calm that one experiences on the water.The Oarsmans Song Steve Fairbairn A rhythmic poem about the hypnotic motion of a rower in full flight.Rowing In Eden Mark Gregory A short but touching poem about two friends drifting towards heaven. 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. Poems for those who found joy in the rhythmic motion of knitting. Farewell my friend, youre leaving.Its time for you to go.Your friendship was a blessing,And I will miss you so.We shared so many secrets.You brightened up my days.You brought me so much happinessWith your kind and loving ways.You lifted up my spiritsWhen I was feeling blue.No matter what was happening,You knew just what to do.We ran between the raindropsAnd walked beneath the sun,Ran barefoot in the summertime,And oh, we had such fun.Through all the ups and downs of lifeThe good times and the sad,From high school days to golden years,The best friend I ever had.God is here to take you home.Now you and I must part.I love you, and foreverYou will live within my heart. Dont judge me, for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. How to Seal your Memorial Charm Jewellery, Biodegradable Urns for the Sea, Lake or River. 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. Dont weep at my grave,For I am not there.Ive a date with a butterflyTo dance in the air.Ill be singing in the sunshine,Wild and free,Playing tag with the windWhile Im waiting for thee. That you are herethat life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. Twilight and evening bell,And after that the dark!And may there be no sadness of farewell,When I embark. You always brought the sunshineand you brightened up our world,spreading happiness and kindnesssince you were a little girl. Hes asked me if I would care to danceCant refuse, so Ill take the chanceTrembling as he takes me into his armsGliding together as the music starts. But Im giving up bridge Tonights my last night. 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 . But I was patient and not het upEyes looking down, ears pricked like a pupId calmly wait to hear the callThe call that says this is the ball. That would be the most meaningful of all. The draping, it is perfectNo wrinkles will you seeA symbol of a nationA reminder that were free. Were in seven spades and all my hope fadesWhen surprise, surprise, the high bidding pays!Were winning all tricks, the defenders feel sick,And I have to admit my partners a brick. Ive been a daughter, mum, nan and wifeI had a ball and enjoyed my lifeIts just that when I heard the callThe call had my number on the ball.Live on now, make me proud of what youll become. Poems for watchmakers, clock collectors, or anyone who had a passion for timekeeping. Poems for those who had a passion for wearing jewellery, or dedicated a lifetime to crafting it themselves. Alas, reality was somewhat different. I know how much it hurt your soulWhen we had to say goodbyeBut Im not gone, Im always hereI am your butterfly. A bonnet, a jacket, and bootees tooWill they need to be made in blue or in pink?Perhaps lemon is safe, she could do them there and thenInstead of having to guess or even to think. The slapping of my leathersand raging winds on either side,drum a beat of sweet contentmentas I ride this, my last ride. Ill never get to see your precious face;or whisper words to make you feel safeIll never get to hold you tightwhen you cant sleep at nightIll never get to sing to you a sweet lullaby,to calm you down when you cryIll never get to fall asleep with you in my arms,all bundled in a blanket to keep you warmIll never get to hear you laugh and giggleor see you little toes wiggleThere are many things I will never get to do,but the hardest is not being with you. The city . Addiction Took Another Soul Natasha Henry A sombre poem reflecting on the harm that addiction can cause.Its Me Jacqueline A. Grieve A poem read on behalf of deceased addict, which asks their loved ones for forgiveness.My Son Marie Antoinette A poem written for a mother as a message to her son, who lost the fight against addiction.Pray, Dont Find Fault Rama Muthukrishnan A poem urging people not to judge those who go through hard times. MORE THYME! You want for them the best,But they put you to the test,And seem intent, your efforts to defy,Beseech, threaten, teach or cheer,They so seldom seem to hear,No matter how bloody hard you may try. But now youre gonebut yet youre hereWell sense you everywhere.You are our sorrow and our joy,Theres love in every tear. Members of the Club stand post,Proud brothers in the wind;Shaded eyes the tears disguise,And loss they feel within. Poems for those who had a calm aura, or poems for those who seek calmness in death. 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. There Is A New Star Shining In The Sky Tonight, Dear God, Please Take Care Of My Little Girl, Martial Arts Is So Much More Than Just A Fighting Art. Trees by Joyce Kilmer. or hanging inside the dark closet. Death is Not the End Brothers Steve Mason A poem contemplating the unique bond of trust and loyalty that brothers share.For My Brother Shelly Domenici A touching tribute to a brother gone too soon.Memories Tamarah M. Olsen A poem reflecting upon the fond memories shared with a brother.My Brother anon A poem reflecting the many ups and downs of a relationship with a brother. These are my footprints, so perfect and so small.These tiny footprints, never touched the ground at all.Not one tiny footprint, for now I have my wings.These tiny footprints were meant for other things.You will hear my tiny footprints, in the patter of the rain.Gentle drops like angels tears, of joy and not from pain.You will see my tiny footprints, in each butterflies lazy dance.Ill let you know Im with you, if you give me just a chance.You will see my tiny footprints, in the rustle of the leaves.I will whisper names into the wind, and call each one that grieves.Most of all, these tiny footprints, are found in mummys heart,cause even though Im gone now, well never truly part. You see, there is a shadow wherethere didnt used to be,and sometimes when I look right thereit just confuses me. 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? Little rattle of dry seeds in pods, The warm crowd . "Dead" by Winifred Mary Letts. The strength of this cord its hard to describeit cant be destroyed it cant be denied.Its stronger than any cord man could createit withstands the test, can hold any weight. A line, a house would pass me byThe frustration could make a grown man cry! 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. A list of 10 most popular In Memoriam verses and poems to be used on Memorial Cards. A. Alene Centanni. When a job was finished his tools had to be clean, because he was the boss of a slap-happy working team. The ball swung, swerved and darted, Poems for those who kept several balls in the air at one time. The sadness of the present daysIs locked and set in time.And moving to the futureIs a slow and painful climb. Dont give up, though the pace seems slowYou may succeed with your next blow.Success is failure turned inside outIts the difference between faith and doubtYou may be close, though it seems so farIts hard to tell how close you areSo stick to the flight when youre hard hitIts when things seem their worst,That you must not quit. We travelled the path of our lives side by sideBut this path you walked on your ownTo a world where no pain and no suffering resideWhile I stay in this world alone. Land of the rainbow gold,For flood and fire and famine she pays us back threefold.Over the thirsty paddocks, watch, after many days,The filmy veil of greenness that thickens as we gaze. When my sailing days are over,And I sail the seas no more,I shall build myself a refugeBy the oceans murmuring shore.As I watch the foaming breakersWhen the tide comes rushing in,I will contemplate my lifetimeWith its virtues and its sins. You were a blessing to us allyou were a special child.And were so glad God sent youto be with us awhile. Maybe the glorious legends, from Phar Lap to the Diva, That leaves me so infected, with the flush of racing fever, The buzz as they are mustered, from the starting gate they lurch, With the Form Guide as my bible, the racetrack as my church. Roads go ever ever onUnder cloud and under star,Yet feet that wandering have goneTurn at last to home afar.Eyes that fire and sword have seenAnd horror in the halls of stoneLook at last on meadows greenAnd trees and hills they long have known. 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. I chat about peoples livesI help to solve their woes,I make damn sure their night will thrive,And they keep me on my toes. I love to learn about them, and share all that I find,With others who love their fossils just as much as I love mine,They know that fossils are far more than simply rocks and debris,They are a vital window into our worlds history. Poems about losing a child, especially at a young age. Required fields are marked *. Its always opening time in heavenAnd the alcohol doesnt go to your headIt floats around in ones etherAnd fortifies your spirit instead. 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! 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. &In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.& Robert Frost, &What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.&Albert Pike, &The fear of death follows from the fear of life. 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? It was a heaven houseThe books were there, and so were people whoLoved reading them, and that is all that matters. When your own words fail you, a poem can serve as a perfect funeral reading or eulogy. The Trout Brook by Ralph E. McMillin. Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;One more rider, Heaven bound,Roars through the Pearly Gates. Although I cannot see you,I feel your presence near.I will hold you close in memory,Till I drop my very last tear. He played with passion, played with grace,His mind was sharp, his strategy sound,He battled on the chessboards face,And never once let his focus drown. Below are the all-time best Rugby poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. Final words and kisses, thenThe pipes Amazing Grace;Souls of bike and rider seekEternal resting place. Ive got the bowling ball blues.Now all I want is a spare.But all I get is bad news.Im always off by a hair.Come on now, roll like thunder,Drop those pins asunder:Cure my bowling ball blues. MORE THYME! A wife, a mother, a grandmother too,This is the legacy we have from you.You taught us love and how to fight,You gave us strength, you gave us might.A stronger person would be hard to find,And in your heart, you were always kind.You fought for us all in one way or another,Not just as a wife not just as a mother.For all of us you gave your best,Now the time has come for you to rest.So go in peace, youve earned your sleep,Your love in our hearts, well eternally keep. T he one person I could always take my troubles to. Everything Mum Joanna Fuchs A poem for a mum who somehow managed to do everything.Mother anon A verse reflecting upon a loving and devoted mother. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. Over'? crunch! We ate greens, we ate biscuitsWe ate lamb chops and fresh-picked peasWe said yes dad, we said no dadWe said thank you mum and please. Unknown Sure, luck means a lot in cricket. The windows blurry, the odometers broke,The tires are bare; whos driving this car? 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. You are elegant and charming. The tide recedes,But leaves behindBright seashells on the sand. The trials and tribulationsThe pain and stress we breatheDont exist where I am goingOnly happiness, I believe. The laughter and loveIt always shone through. If the world were full of hippiesthered be nothing left to proveexcept peace and understandingand a little bit of groove, No-one would be homelessLike many live todayWed build beautiful communeswhere anyone could stay, Together wed make musicto the beat of mother earththered be no fighting or warEveryone sharing equal worth, Wed grow our own vegetables and create trinkets to sellWed open up our mindsbreak free from our shell, Every colour and every racewould teach one anotherwed become a united familyevery sister, every brother, Wed bless all gods creaturesshow respect for the landGive free hugs to everyoneopenminded to understand. If someone had to describe you, so many words come to mind.Beauty and grace, a heart so kind. 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. I wont dye my hair pink or blueMy piercings will stay as the simple twoNails cut short and hair in a bunIn ballet, this must be done. Wonderful gifts; each stitch made with loveA creative gift that was so easy to seeA jumper for this one, some scarves for themOr for a new baby a layette of three. You tell the worn raincoat that if you talk about it,you will finally let grief out. You graced us with your presence and charm,And your love for fashion always set you apart.Now, as you rest, your beauty remains,Forever stylish and chic, without any pains. So, think about this long and hard.Are there things youd like to change?For you never know how much time is leftThat can still be rearranged. We wouldnt eat from a microwaveOr a restaurant down the streetWe all ate Mums home cookingAnd boy that cant be beat. Some people say keeping a barIs the worst job on the EarthI know the truth; how wrong they areIf only they knew its worth! Could I meet family and friends, Lord?All those who have gone before?Have you lots of seats for supporters?And markers who will score? Poems for those who shared a passion for literature, or who worked in a literary setting during their life. 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. 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. How did you do it all, Mum,Be a chauffeur, cook and friend,Yet find time to be a playmate?I just cant comprehend. This third rose represents your memory.For the times we laughed,The times we cried,The times we were angry with each other,The silly things you did,The caring and joy you gave us. Iron horses, hundreds strong,Come thundring through the gate;Sleeping souls on notice, fallenBiker nears his fate. My Love, You Gave Yourself To Me anon A verse to be read by, or on behalf of, a grieving spouse. Pink tights by the moundBobby pins all aroundLeotards on the floorPointe shoes by the door. He had a keen eye, a quick hand and a skillTo work manually with strength and effort and willHis hard work inspired and was in demand,not just near home but across the land. I may not even be who you think I am,or even who you want me to be.You wish for me to be more like you,Why cant you be more like me? Oh! 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. 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. Poems to read for a beloved daughter who has sadly passed away. Poems for people who had family at the centre of their lives. Poems for those who loved nothing better than riding on two wheels. Villanelle Of Spring BellsBells in the town alight with springconverse, with a concordance of new airsmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. Dismiss, Was your loved one a fan of the thwack of leather on willow? 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. She tumbles on the floor with art,Her movements swift and sure,Her strength and flexibility,So wonderful, so pure. 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.