Beyond anon A short verse signalling the hope that beyond the bad emotions there is peace and forgiveness.Dont Judge Me Kathleen Wilson A lament on behalf of someone who may have felt outcast or unaccepted.If I Had A Voice Caroline Wilkes A verse apologising for not always being the best person one could be.Time Will Ease The Hurt Bruce B Wilmer A verse suggesting that time helps painful memories fade away.When I Come To The End Mrs Lyman Hancock A verse urging mourners to remember the deceased at their best. 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. At PoemSearcher.com find thousands of poems categorized into thousands of categories. Core of my heart, my country! Grandmas Apron Tina Trivett A lovely, reflective piece about the many things a grandmothers apron has seen.MORE THYME! Coast to coast across England in one day;A hundred miles in one trip. As you learned lifes messagesNo matter how hardThe laughter and love always shone through. A good eye and a perfect stance. Just one last effort, I pass the line.Was I first, was I last? Poems for those who found joy in the rhythmic motion of knitting. The teams. I hold onto memories of you And cherish them with love God took you from this world So, you could be with Him in Heaven I lost you too soon But I will never forget you. He firmly held his bowl in handHis eyes they were unblinking;None could tell what he had plannedOr just what he was thinking.Then slowly down his body wentHis bowl arm was at the readyTo neither side his torso leantHe was so sure and steady. *Replace Pemaquid Point with any relevant geographical location. You truly inspire. You watched us make the same mistakes, That you had made before, But that just made you hold us tight, And love us all the more. 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. 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. I am a martial artist. All evil men intent on evil thingfalter, for in their cold unready earsbells in the town alight with springmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. I have spent the night in the watchhouse My head was the size of three So I went and asked the chemistTo fix up a drink for me;And he brewed it from various bottlesWith soda and plenty of ice,With something that smelt like lemon,And something that seemed like spice. Poems for those who enjoyed the challenges of rock climbing, hiking, and fell-walking. The willowy sway of the hands awayAnd the water boiling aft,The elastic spring, the steely flingThat drives the flying craft. She had a collection, an unusual collection, Of four thousand and forty two, Colourful, shapely, dangly rings, From green to gold to blue. A football team is only as good as its last game; the mood of supporters rises and falls with each result. Hauskat Meemit. Bury me in Lycra!So when I get to heavens gateSt. Dont cry for me, please dont be sadHold on to the memories of the times we both hadDont dwell on dark thoughts, hold on tight to your wishesSending you hugs and butterfly kisses. This second rose represents our courage.To confront our sorrow,To comfort each other,To change our lives. Our memories build a special bridgeWhen loved ones have to partTo help us feel were with them stillAnd soothe a grieving heart.They span the years and warm our livesPreserving ties that bind;Our memories build a special bridgeAnd bring us peace of mind. And now that youre not here, GranddadIll give double hugs to Nan.Goodnight, God bless you, Granddad,From your loving little man. So, if this is the last timeWe speak, then may I say,Life with you was good, my friend,And Ill see you on the 19th one day. But, even in death, Harold Pinter made sure his final farewell was as carefully and poetically orchestrated as his life's. He said, Son, Ive made a lifeOut of readin peoples facesKnowin what the cards wereBy the way they held their eyesSo if you dont mind my sayinI can see youre out of acesFor a taste of your whiskeyIll give you some advice.. Dont look to right or left at all,For that is how the mighty fall! 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. Though the day was made for scaling,And the dusk gathers too soon,You and mellgono more a-climbingBy thelight of the moon. If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelids soundless blink,The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alightUpon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think,To him this must have been a familiar sight., If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm,When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn,One may say, He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm,But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.. The bird that was trapped has flownThe sky that was grey is blueThe bone that was dead has grownThe dream that was dreamed is true, The door that was locked has swung wideThe prisoner has been set freeThe lips that were sealed have criedThe eye that was blind can see, The tree that was bare is greenThe room that was dull is brightThe sheet that was soiled is cleanThe dawn that was dark is light, The road that was blocked has no endThe unknown journey is knownThe heart that is hurt will mendThe bird that was trapped has flown. Poems for those who loved exploring caves and caverns underground. It is right that she is loved: her courage shinesin all the maxims that she does not drawfrom sixty years to warn our present joy.In all her tales, her husband and three sonsquietly keep the graves she bought for them. Lets haste awayFrom the heart of the dayTo the woods refreshing shadeWhere the babbling brookIn some sheltered nookIs gurgling a-down the glade. Then as the flowers transcendedAnd the night closesNothing is brokenOnly waiting to be mended. And then the lover,Sighing like furnace, with a woeful balladMade to his mistress eyebrow. Your love of Gods soil has passed on to your kin; the stories flow like fine wine,Wash off your work boots in the puddle left by blessed rain one final time. 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. Iron horses, hundreds strong,Come thundring through the gate;Sleeping souls on notice, fallenBiker nears his fate. Just to prove myfriendship is true to have a friend like you! Its not only just the silks, and the colour and the flair, Or all the many kindred folk that I find gathered there, Sharing the excitement of the journey jockeys facing, That whips me to action, for another day of racing. There is no frigate like a bookTo take us lands away,Nor any coursers like a pageOf prancing poetry. 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. And then the justice,In fair round belly with good capon lind,With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part. Dear God, please take care of my little girl,The one with big eyes and soft brown curls.She was special, as you should know.I really didnt want to let her go. The memories so dear and true,those memories of me and you. The poems on this page are suitable for any loved one. You see, there is a shadow wherethere didnt used to be,and sometimes when I look right thereit just confuses me. 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. Tossed to and fro in a raging tide of emotion;without you, Im just so lost and broken. Block A poem about what a hard-working sailor will do once his working life is over.Sea Fever John Masefield A touching poem asking for a quiet sleep and a sweet dream at the end of life.Some Time At Eve Elizabeth Clark Hardy A lovely verse about passing away quietly and without fuss.The Voyage Christie Moore A poem about a couple navigating life together, and with friends.When The Last Hand Comes Aboard Richard John Scarr A religious poem about completing a ships crew. I do not ask you for your tears,For I am free, my suffering past.Remember all the times we laughed,And when you find that happy place,Let a smile light up your face. The sixth age shiftsInto the lean and slipperd pantaloon,With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;His youthful hose, well savd, a world too wideFor his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,Turning again toward childish treble, pipesAnd whistles in his sound. So go, my loveClimb that mountain in the sunsetI will watch you with a smileand eternal lovein my heart. Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. I juggle for my friends, and keep them all aglow,With love and trust and faith that nothing can oerthrow,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. We pushed them and we shoved them, Tolerated, and loved them, Glad we had them, at times we dont know why, Pray they do stay out of strife, Make the best of their sweet life, Cant bear the thought that one day they may die. A list of 10 most popular In Memoriam verses and poems to be used on Memorial Cards. Poems for those who brought laughter into our lives. Twilight and evening bell,And after that the dark!And may there be no sadness of farewell,When I embark. Monopolyseemed like a treacherous merry-go-round.He wanted to charge no rent,disperse property equally(having been taught to share),end the game, and go drinkhot cocoa unaware a monopolycontrolled the cocoa market. We didnt eat in front of the TVOr with a phone in our handWe werent plugged into a stereobopping to the latest band. Im climbing a mountainI feel like a bird in the air,Im gliding and soaringAnd feel like I havent a care. 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). Bottles of red, bottles of white,Barrels of brown and glasses so bright,Keep the night peaceful and the customers polite,Dont let a fight break out tonight. Poems for people who had family at the centre of their lives. The race begins,as engines roar.They charge ahead,like a wild boar. The most popular funeral poems include: "Crossing the Bar" by Alfred Lord Tennyson. But now youre gonebut yet youre hereWell sense you everywhere.You are our sorrow and our joy,Theres love in every tear. The Trout Brook by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts. Alas, reality was somewhat different. And I would want to lead just right,And to know that I was true.So walk a little slower, Daddy,For I must follow you. 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. 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. Did you say 'over'? The lazy float that controls the boatAnd makes the swing quite true,And gives that rest that the oarsman blestAs he drives the blade right through. The water can be healing It always was for me Just take time to rememberAnd I think that you will see. The Glentress Masterplan sets out redevelopment proposals that includes new trails, improved facilities, and some new accommodation options in the area. and fought to the last breath. - Navjot Sidhu 8 0 Add a comment The time you won your town the raceWe chaired you through the market-place.Man and boy stood cheering by,And home we brought you shoulder-high. 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 . The archer and his bow:Take aim and let the arrow fly,It hits, fast as lightning A perfect bulls-eye. Long life to her for theres no other,to take the place of my dear mother. We have sought, but we sought it vainly,That one last drink divine;We have sampled his various bottles,But somehow they dont combine:Yet I know when I cross the riverAnd stand on the Golden ShoreI shall meet with an angel chemist Wholl brew me that drink once more. So rest in peace, chess master,Your love for the game will live on,Forever etched in the hearts of allWho knew and loved you for so long. Her apron could bring gigglesIn a game of peek-a-booWith her newest, sweet grandbabyAs she hid her face from view. I have been on the razzle-dazzleFull many a time since then;But I never could get the chemistTo brew that drink again.He says hes forgotten the notion Twas only by chance it came Hes tried me with various liquidsBut oh! Yet how he laughed and won our love,though some showed a stunned surprise.Turning away, afraid to lookor even meet eyes. Poems about grandmothers, grandmas, nannies and grans. Now Grandmas gone to heaven,But her quilts will long remain,Their beauty and their warmth live on,A comforting, loving refrain. Dear Lovely Death - Langston Hughes. Wheeling through the beautiful countrysideFar from the citys commotionAlone, just me, my bike, my thoughtsThe joy of quiet motion. If the juggler is tired now, if the broom standsIn the dust again, if the table starts to dropThrough the daily dark again, and though the plateLies flat on the table top,For him we batter our handsWho has won for once over the worlds weight. I hear you whisper softly in my earTake a step forward, dont worry dearYou have my blessing, your life to enhanceKeep dancing to music of the Tea Dance.. Might be some themed words in that that could be used? Theres a comedy book, Penguins Stop Play. I gathered petals in my hand,I felt their velvet, soft and blandI saw the soft colours in my palmLooking not unlike some lucky charmI raised them to my lipsAnd whispered words for you aloneThen placed the petals upon your bed,And stood alone, this moment of dread,I turned and walked awayMy words, my love, are with you I pray. Poems for those who loved building and rebuilding marvellous creations with those famous little bricks. It wasnt easy watching youOf that I wont denyAnd Im not ashamed to sayThat there were times I cried. 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. BUY NOW PAY LATER with Klarna, available at checkout. Too soon he left to travelBeyond where we can seeBut its all about the journeyForever riding free. Obtainingperfection is my keyIts what I strive for, its all that defines mePushing harder and harder to reach my goalIts what I live for, ballet is my soul. Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of Chatham. 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. 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. And when hed finished speakinHe turned back toward the windowCrushed out his cigaretteFaded off to sleepAnd somewhere in the darknessThe gambler he broke evenBut in his final wordsI found an ace that I could keep. I seek the West,and fields and mountains ever blest. 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. How lucky I was,How blessed Ive been,You were more than my Aunt,You were also my friend. He may be reserved in his manner and speech,And hide the fine graces of which pedants preach;But he is kind and sincere when his heart you once reach,For that is the badge of a Yorkshireman. Thanks 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. You are using an out of date browser. Ive grown up with your values,And Im very glad I did;So heres to you, dear father,From your forever grateful kid. The wind whispers secrets to meAs I paddle under the open skyAnd the beauty of nature, I can seeIn the sunsets and the birds that fly. You always brought the sunshineand you brightened up our world,spreading happiness and kindnesssince you were a little girl. Margaret Thatchers ashes are to be interred at the Royal Chelsea Hospital. Clean your rims, my friend! Teasing, rolling, need a little clip.Hairspray, blow dry, one more snip.Color, rinse, perm after perm.For a hairdresser, work-a-holic is our term. Author Unknown; adapted from the original by Lord Byron. Mum would cook our dinnerDad came home at fiveWe were all sitting at the tableWaiting for him to arrive. Like life. The time is nowTo find your passion.Time waits for no one,So get into action. Youve also got some sweeties.Isnt Nana kind?I may have stolen one or two,But I knew you wouldnt mind. Couples are twirling across the dance floorAnd I wonder why I am here at allSeems a long time since you and I were hereYet it was only this same time last year. Thou life giving wheelWhose sinews are steelMy veins imbibe life from thine ownAnd I sink to my restWith true loyal zestWhile my dreams are my cycles alone. 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. White wings will carry you and you will be flown. A humanist funeralis a non-religious ceremony that focuses on the person who has died, the life they led, and the relationships they forged. So please bear with us, dear audienceAnd act your part as well:We salute a thespian titanWho had such a good life to tell. Few things are as fleetingAs footprints in the sand;Sometimes we walk aloneAnd sometimes hand in hand. Mighty proud! 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. crunch! There are candles in the night,flickering souls fighting back the dark:these are the angels of the abyss,holding back the blackness that consumes us. Death is Not the End For in the real scheme of things,Your illness wasnt long.Compared to all the happiness,You brought your whole life long. For a deeply private man it was a brief and intensely private funeral. The 'Cricket' Funeral Order of Service design is from the HobbiesRange, which is only available from Fitting Farewell. For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all;The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks:The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks. They help to capture the spirit of the person lost and express the feelings of the people left behind.