Your life has purpose.God sent you on a mission.To live, to love, to learn Is His commission. 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. 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? Maailmankaikkeus. 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. Edged and taken. Ive got the bowling ball blues.I gotta mark one more time.I cannot let my team lose.I finally found a good line.Come on now, roll like thunder,Drop those pins asunder:Cure my bowling ball blues. A ball point pen just wouldnt do That really is the case For I would be at quite a loss If I could not erase! And to those not with us or by our side, May God be your partner on your final ride. 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. Time flies like an arrow .. fruit flies like a banana. Short Cricket Quotes I'm jealous of my parents; I "ll never have a kid as cool as theirs. 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. Dont judge me for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. Poems for those who enjoyed a bout in the ring, or who enjoyed taking in a big fight. 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. I know of tall pines,And long, waiting lines.Of the warmth of campfires,And the agony of flat tires. You left this life so quicklyand I am left to mourn Yet precious memories fill my heartsince the day that you were born. My partners a dope and Im losing all hope.And when s/he says double I know were in trouble.My points are not high and Im wondering whyS/he kept on bidding right up to the sky. Poems for those who loved clothes in all their forms, or who made a living in the fashion industry. I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done. Ive seen fire and Ive seen rainIve been through a desert on a horse with no name, Ive gone to Kansas City, I sang in the sunshineIve been on the road again, with Georgia on my mind, Like a rolling stone, Ive given peace a chanceIve put a camel to bed and danced the last dance, Mr Tambourine Man played a song for meIve whispered words of wisdom, let it be, Ive fallen into a burning ring of fire and walked the lineTo all the girls Ive loved before, you were always on my mind, Ive been everywhere, Ive been so lonesome I could cryIve driven my Chevy to the levee when the levee was dry, Ive been to Itchy Coo Park in a yellow submarineIve made the scene in a time machine, Ive done the Hokey Pokey and turned myself aroundIve welcomed baby back to the poor side of town, Ive followed the tracks of my tears down a long and winding roadIve kept on searching for a heart of gold, Ive sought shelter from the storm, Ive sat on the dock of the bayIve rocked around the clock, on a sunshiny day, Ive knocked on Heavens door, while blowing in the windJoy to the world those were the days my friend. I always begin With the first clue across, Continuing on Until Im at a loss. PDF A CRICKETER'S LAST BOUNDARY - Kelly Garrick Celebrants Too many to paste into the thread, enjoy! Are there Bowling Greens in Heaven Lord?Crown Greens I mean for me?Will there be lush grass, warm breezesAnd endless cups of tea? Poems for Funerals and Memorial Services One does not leave a funeral in the same way that he has come. It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk,Though my own red roses there may blow;It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk,Though the red roses crest the caps, I know.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 on a soundless-clapping hostAs the run-stealers flicker to and fro,To and fro;O my Hornby and my Barlow long ago! Day is ended, dim my eyes,but journey long before me lies.Farewell, friends! There is a momentIn musical rehearsalWhen all the playersThe choirThe woodwind and brassThe strings and percussionThe entire orchestraStopsAnd there is peace, The conductor says two wordsAnd restVoices cease to singThe woodwind put down oboes and clarinetsThe brass lay down trumpets and trombonesOthers do the sameBecause the music is overThere is no audienceThere is no applauseIn that momentQuietness reignsYet the quiet that followsRemains harmonious, There is a certain silenceA spaceFor reflection and reposeThe music is rememberedAnd so we contemplateThe highsThe lowsThe passage of melodySometimes we feel sadBecause the chordsHave drifted awayFinishedCompleted, Some will feel lossOthers experience reliefAnd others deep sadness, TogetherWe shareThat moment of closureWhen the conductorSaysAnd rest., The musical notes stood in linesDiscordant in their griefBefore regaining their composureAs black tears in embossed relief. In Tag, celebrityattached to beingIt,so why share it? The transfer window never closesAs new players arrive all the timeTheres always a top team to play onAs for the kit, I just wish Id brought mine. Words have that kind of poweryou remind the clothes that remain in the drawer, arms stubbornlyfolded across the chest, or slung across the backs of chairs. Cricket, Lovely Cricket by Kwame Dawes | Poetry Foundation Listen to the storiesthe old trees tell in hushing voices,the rushing sounds of ocean waves . 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. 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. And if I dieBefore you do,Ill go to heavenAnd wait for you. As you bid me farewell this one last timeSpray me with natures flowers and loveFor I will need those memoriesAs I watched you from above. He cannot help but have death on his mind. Fishing Poems | Discover Poetry 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. Can you send cremation ashes in the post? When a butterfly come to you, Ive been told,That its from someone in heaven, a past soul.If you keep a look out, if you open your heart,The things that were ordinary will now stand apart.I think if we look, read between the lines,You will find clues and you will find signs,That your loved one isnt past, not really, not gone,That they are not here, that they have just moved on.It is said that there is not death, just life and transitions,From the teachings of Buddha to the beliefs of the Christians.So from my heart, from my hope and belief,May you find many butterflies to assist with your grief. I will miss youOh so much.So will allThe lives thatYou haveTouched. Deeper down I goso unknown steps belowexploring further than anyones beenthere seems to be no end. As blow after blow upon his battered head does fallHe knows but only one way, and that is the brawlAnd though his poor body has long since given inThe Spirit of the Fighter knows no such thing! I chose a twinkling star in the sky at night ,To say a prayer for you to its bright light.Youre in Gods Heavens now and no longer in pain,In my thoughts, youll always remain. 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. Tears water our growth." To shake our gravity up. The empty spots beckon; They yearn to be filled And if Im successful Im quietly thrilled. When I speak your name,It still brings music to my ears,And I can still see your smileAs if heaven is so near. see also: The Countryside, Flowers, and Gardening. Unknown You can also find an index of topics at the top of this page. 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. So as we gather here today, To say our last goodbyes, We know that they will always beIn our hearts and in our minds. cricket poems for funerals 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. Your email address will not be published. Poems predominantly for those who worked behind a bar, but also those hobby mixologists. Poems for watchmakers, clock collectors, or anyone who had a passion for timekeeping. But we cant complain, it is only a game.Right? Its grand to be reunitedWith band members both old and newWe start to play it sounds so goodJust perfect like I expected it would. She loved to pop out for a walk or a stroll,But illness and age in the end took its tollHer passing will leave in our lives a great hole,Shell be missed as a wonderfully generous soul. we missThe joy that liesIn labour, and in thisGrow old before our time.The gardeners artIs Natures own,And he who tends a partTends the whole.The noblest work of manIs to add beauty to the world. That you are herethat life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. Haiku I wrote whilst out at some live jazz back in October, when it was warm enough for crickets. Fly, fly little wingFly where only angels singFly away, the time is rightGo now, find the light. 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. One, two, three,Dont cry for me,Four, five, sixIve had my kicks. Here are some suggestions for anyone wishing to choose a moving poem or verse for their loved one's funeral. 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. You have dementia, that is true,But that wont stop me loving you.Each day brings another chore,Usually worse than the one before. I see now it was love, MumThat made you come whenever Id call,Your inexhaustible love, MumAnd I thank you for it all. Nor is it the game of chance, that punting always brings, From TAB and bookies, and bar-room betting rings, The heady smell of fine manure, turf so lush and green, Fine dressed folk and superb horseflesh, making up the scene. Beer Is Just Fine - Roy Pett - A humorous verse deliberating over the wonders of beer. My lifes journey ended early,The path I chose was short.You all tried your best to change it,But in the end it was for me to sort. The warriors spirit never diesIt lives on in every fightIn every motion, every strideIt shines with power and might. Clean your rims, my friend! Their quiet heart, a guiding light,That shone in darkness, pure and bright,A gentle voice, a calming breeze,That whispered peace, and brought us ease. On The Grasshopper And Cricket, by John Keats, theartofchildrenspicturebooks.blogspot.com. Members of the Club stand post,Proud brothers in the wind;Shaded eyes the tears disguise,And loss they feel within. If you want fame for yourself, go play an individual game. And so, when we remember,Well think of all the rest.Well concentrate on earlier,And remember all the best. But you think I am goneYou dont see me, but I can see youWhatever the problems, I will help you get through. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at anytime. The first rose represents our grief.The pain of losing you is intense.It reminds us of the depth of our love for you. 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. cricket poems for funerals. Poems for those who found joy in the rhythmic motion of knitting. But the greatest of the treasuresThat old apron could ever holdWas the endless love from MotherAbiding in each fold. To succeed. JavaScript is disabled. Cricket - Funeral Order of Service 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. Cricket is played by two teams of eleven players and two umpires. Floral Tribute, which has been distributed by Armitage's publisher, Faber, is a double acrostic . He taught us all so much;his brother how to care,tenderness bonded the family;it grew from our despair. Well take the time togetherTo catch up on the pastTo build a new beginningOne that will always last. 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. 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. 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. My love, you gave yourself to meAnd life caught fire from your spark. It took you as my mother,A girl you did become.Searching for the answersAnd looking for your mum. Its bad times youve persevered.Its all the fun youve had.Its any time youve ever laughedand every tear youve shed. So, our sweetYoull never be goneCause your laughter and loveWill always shine through. The band upstairs is striking upFor me they now awaitTo play again I now can doAs I pass through heavens gate. The memories so dear and true,those memories of me and you. In the darkness of the theatreWhere the screen would light up brightThey found solace, joy, and comfortIn the stories that played each night. Invented one day by a guy named Webb How do go "I have a. Stepping into his workshop to start the day,Different pieces of wood laid in array,The scent of cedar filling the air,A piece of furniture he works to prepare,Handcrafted with love and the finest precision,A work came to life with what he could envision,Measuring the wood for the perfect size,Tape measure at hand from his supplies,Reaching for a saw lying on a shelf,He whistles a familiar tune to himself,Cutting the wood with the utmost care,A type of craftsmanship no other can compare,Skilled at working with his hands,He strives to use them for all of lifes demands,Hands that could craft his hearts desires,Creating a lifetime of work to be forever admired,The ability to turn something simple into grand,The only tools he needed were his left and right hand,Each piece of work embodies his spirit and love,A talent he was blessed with from the Lord above,The carpenter lives on through his creations,His heart the framework to all his foundations, Why, Oh why, didnt I build my own coffin?Now that the chips are downThen I wouldnt have a splinter in my bumWith me unable to protest in sound, My lifes jigsaw is dovetailed awayAnd its my turn now to walk the plankBut my coffin maker also made the boatAnd fortunately for me, it sank, Ashes to ashes, sawdust to sawdustMy preservative has whittled awayFarewell to the woods, farewell to the treesA master craftsman now lies at ease. 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. Smooth road; never mind the few bumps; and air so fresh you could eat it in lumps. You radiate warmth like a blazing fire.You are courage and wisdom. The fences have all been mended. "And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. Remember Me. Poems about people who liked a drink in a healthy way. He selects the wood very carefullyThe grain and the colour so beautifullyLooking along the edge its straightAnd feeling it, it has a good weight, Remember to measure twice and cut onceIs the rule of thumb before you pounceHe knows the work and the craftsmans toolsAs he saws, planes and sands to carpenters rules, The joints are a woodworkers art and a pleasure to seeWhen glued together strong and straight it will beThe last piece of the carpenters work is at handTo finish is to wax the wood for a look thats grand. 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. But in my heart you will be,moving forward, you with me. My father-in-law was cricket barmy. Which is happier, man or boy?The soul of the father is steeped in joy,For hes finding out, to his hearts delight,That his son is fit for the future fight.He is learning the glorious depths of him,And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim.And he shall discover, when night comes on,How close he has grown to his little son. If your heart is heavy nowbecause Ive gone away,Dwell not long upon it friend;For none of us can stay.Those of you who liked me,I sincerely thank you allAnd those of you who loved me,I thank you most of all. I know I caused you sadness,I know caused you pain,But I was captured by these demons,They wouldnt set me free again. The ball swung, swerved and darted, Out of the corner of my eye I see you there, but when I turn to look, you fade away.What I wouldnt give to just have one more day. I fancy I hear them talking thereIn an open boat, and the speech is fair.And the boy is learning the ways of menFrom the finest man in his youthful ken.Kings, to the youngster, cannot compareWith the gentle father whos with him there.And the greatest mind of the human raceNot for one minute could take his place. "Mark Twain. 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. To say it loud was helpful,and although quite absurd,we kept repeating time againthat same annoying word. 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. A list of 10 most popular In Memoriam verses and poems to be used on Memorial Cards. 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 With every breath, their quiet heart,Was steadfast, true, and pure in part,A steady beat, a gentle pace,That led us to a peaceful place. This is one. Lay lady lay, in crimson and cloverIts been a hard days night, the partys over. The city . A year feeling so lonely and blueSince the unspeakable day I lost youIm here because friends said I must tryLetting go and waving the tears goodbye. Pause in their dance and break the ring for me; Dim, shady wood-roads, redolent of fern. All is lost in due time. Excludes Gift Memberships, Discount applies to first year. Rest now my fallen brotherLay soft your suffering backRest well and foreverYour memory shall not lackRest your tired handsWipe clean your weary browRest with St. FlorianYour spirit now endowedRest here your breaking heartWe know you gave your allRest easy, youve done your partYouve answered your last callRest knowing that in god we soughtOh lord, watch over another who just fellRest assured your troubled thoughtAs we ring the final bell. If someone had to describe you, so many words come to mind.Beauty and grace, a heart so kind. Yes. Through our tears we look upwards to see [person] watching over us. Amazed, I watch the tiny gymnasts all,While praying, as they flip, that none will fall. Chris Gayle Cricket is a team game. Its always opening time in heavenAnd the alcohol doesnt go to your headIt floats around in ones etherAnd fortifies your spirit instead. Guided by the Lonely Star,beyond the utmost harbour-bar,Ill find the heavens fair and free,and beaches of the Starlit Sea.Ship, my ship! O Life! However they cant live without,the nine, ten, two or eight.The common numbers of lifes game,theyll set the balance straight. The last time he cut his mothers hairthe rude morning sunleft no corner of her kitchen private,the light surgically cleanwhere it fell on his scissors.Her hair fell in a blonde circleon the lake blue tilesmell of coffeeand cinnamon; her laughingshook her head, Hold still, he said,his hands surfeit with the curland softness of her hair. When you spiralled down and moreI longed for a reverse,Id have given my right armFor your pain to disperse. The feet of dancersShine with mirth,Their hearts are vibrant as bells: The air flows by themDivided like waterCut by a gleaming ship. We dreamed of you and of your lifeAnd all that it would be.We waited and longed for you to come.And join our family. And now as we gather,To say goodbye to you,Well raise a cup of coffee,And honour all youve been through. Finally we sit and roll a dice,Watching each roll like hungry mice,Bobby always seems to have too much loot,And we wonder if there is some hidden in a boot;Jenny just cant get a breakand will be in gaol for three rolls sake;Uncle Ron just sits with a grin, and we wonder what is his sin;Dad just tries to moderate, But Aunt Sue is truly irate!The kids all laugh, its just a gameIts family time: will we remain sane? Humour is an essential part of life, so why not of death. For this one farmer the worries are over, lie down and rest your head,Your time has been and struggles enough, put the tractor in the shed. She probably carried kindling to stoke the kitchen fire.To hold a load of laundry, or to wipe the clothesline wire.When canning all her vegetables, it was used to wipe her brow.You never know, she might have used it to shoo flies from the cow. Poems for those who either acted in films or shared a passion for movies unlike any other. Where every day is a day to fish,To fill your heart with every wish.Dont worry, or feel sad for me,Im fishin with the Master of the sea. He wanted someone to hold usAnd show respect for others.He wanted someone whod be gentle,So he created mothers. Each one was pieced with tender care,With threads of love and light,A labour of love taking time and skill,For each quilt that lay in sight. She says you have my teddy.Hell keep you safe from harm.If the going gets hard, just squeeze his handAnd he will keep you calm. Last scene of all,That ends this strange eventful history,Is second childishness and mere oblivion;Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. The life of man is like a game of chess,The which he plays according to his art;Winning or losing he doth nothing lessThan to obey the dictates of his heart. Cave of wonderscaverns so deepthrough vast rooms I wanderso many secrets to keep. 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. Thanks The NHS Overused? There once was a man from round hereWho loved flags more than he loved beer,He flew them with prideFrom morning til nightAnd even slept with them, so we hear! 150 Funeral Poems and Readings for Loved Ones - Legacy.com 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! extract from As You Like It by William Shakespeare. But as the end of his life grew near,He lay on his bed with no fear:For he knew in his heartFlags will never departFrom this world they will fly loud and clear. Oh dear, if youre reading this right now,I must have given up the ghost.I hope you can forgive me for beingSuch a stiff and unwelcoming host. "Dead" by Winifred Mary Letts. They dipThey soarThey dart right byWe wonder how it feels to fly. 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. If I brightened your path, then let it bea small contribution from my loved ones and me;now sadly I leave you and travel alonethrough a mystic veil to the great unknown,with such beautiful memoriesthat will forever bethe way that I hope youll remember me. So please bear with us, dear audienceAnd act your part as well:We salute a thespian titanWho had such a good life to tell. So tell me nowAnd tell me true.So I can sayIm here for you.. John Betjeman began his poem about Cheltenham with the following memory: I composed these lines as a summer wind Was blowing the elm leaves dry And we had seventy six for seven And they had CB Fry. At first the infant,Mewling and puking in the nurses arms;And then the whining school-boy, with his satchelAnd shining morning face, creeping like snailUnwillingly to school. This be the verse you grave for me:Here he lies where he longed to be;Home is the sailor, home from sea,And the hunter home from the hill. The song captures the atmosphere of a village cricket match and is an elegy to the game as played during Harper's youth. O my goodness, whatever do I seeIs that a man coming over to meI feel a blush come from neck to my faceAnd my poor heart is beginning to race. Hauskat Meemit. 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.. Theatre of Dreams John Read A short verse lamenting the end of a wonderful act of living.Youll Never Walk Alone Rodgers and Hammerstein The well-known song can work just as well as spoken word. At PoemSearcher.com find thousands of poems categorized into thousands of categories. "At Lords" by Francis Thompson is pretty well-known (above wiki > cricket poetry > poems). Need a good piece on cricket for a funeral | Army Rumour Service If I helped in a team, if I helped on my own,it was more than repaid by good family and friends I have known;and if I went the extra mile,I did it with pleasure it was all worthwhile. I deal with screamingchildren,who dont want a cut.And the people who keep rolling in,after the doors should shut. Free Funeral Poems and Memorial Verses - Next Gen Memorials The referee needs no introductionOr whistle for a foul blowWhen God raises his eyebrowsNone argue with the penalty or throw. Hell, no!, Apparently this a a Facebook Page called Why I love cricket, Starboard 10, Round again, pull in the buoys. 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. Remember me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by dayYou tell me of . Cricket poems by Wilson, George Francis.