Need a good piece on cricket for a funeral | Army Rumour Service The empty spots beckon; They yearn to be filled And if Im successful Im quietly thrilled. When the long, dark night is overAnd heaven begins its reignI promise you my darlingI will see you again. 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. Sir Henry Newbolt's "Vitai Lampada" ("Play up! I dont know when it started,Or how it all began,But God created families,As only our Lord can. We will see him in the summer rainHe will ride upon the windAnd when our path is beaten downhis memory will pick us up again. He took his place upon the matAt the angle that he wanted;So rigidly he stood there, thatIt looked like he was planted.He eyed the flag up on the mastAnd weighed the wind a blowing;He called experience from the pastTo guide where the bowl was going. With no maps to guide us we steered our own course,Rode out the storms when the winds were gale force,Sat out the doldrums in patience and hope:Working together we learned how to cope. thanks for reminding meTheres just time before I failTo stand on ceremonyTwo rashers of best back, Should keep meSmelling sweet up the smokestackSo, mother, put the kettle on for meIts time, mother, for my long cup of tea. I had two Mothers two Mothers I claimTwo different people, yet with the same name.Two separate women, diverse by design,But I loved them both because they were mine.The first was the Mother who carried me here,Gave birth and nurtured and launched my career.She was the one whose features I bear,Complete with the facial expressions I wear.She gave me her love, which follows me yet,Along with the examples in life that she set.As I got older, she somehow younger grew,And wed laugh as just Mothers and daughters should do.But then came the time that her mind clouded so,And I sensed that the Mother I knew would soon go.So quickly she changed and turned into the other,A stranger who dressed in the clothes of my Mother.Oh, she looked the same, at least at arms length,But now she was the child and I was her strength.Wed come full circle, we women three,My Mother the first, the second and me.And if my own children should come to a day,When a new Mother comes and the old goes away,Id ask of them nothing that I didnt do.Love both of your Mothers as both have loved you. They say I walk with ease.Though trained for bodily harm, my intentions are for peace.The world may come and go, but a different path Ill choose.A path I will not stray from, no matter, win or lose. Poems for those who loved games like bridge, canasta, poker, and various other card-based activities. Iron horses, hundreds strong,Come thundring through the gate;Sleeping souls on notice, fallenBiker nears his fate. 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. O Magic wheel of burnished steelHow part of myself thou art.As we roll alongMid the hurrying throngThat peoples the busy mart. I stand Oh Lord With hand on heartAnd ask you now to do your partIve sent my wood from centre lineI know the green I choose is fineNow let your word be trueOh hear me, as I prayScatter thou mine enemiesMake a path where there is no wayGuiding on a righteous track,Place it Lord upon the JackAmen. I hope that you will be thereTo wish me on my wayIts not a journey you can join inIts not your time today. what day does pilot flying j pay; western power distribution. This is one. Its not the model of your caror brand of clothes you wear.Its not some fancy, famous name,sewn in your underwear. Knit one, purl one, knit two togetherHer woollen creations will last forever.The sound of her needles, clickety clack,Another row on the counter, turn and go back. Walt Whitman Whitmans answer to the meaning of life, central to the film Dead Poets Society. Smart lad, to slip betimes awayFrom fields where glory does not stay,And early though the laurel growsIt withers quicker than the rose. Thousands of bells chimed overheadTheir lovely tone shaping my thoughtsSplendid new lands danced in my sightBut with ten thousand bells as my guideI would never be lost. Poems for those who enjoyed the tranquillity and competition of Crown Green Bowls. 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. 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. I am a martial artist. Is there art and adventure?Tell me are you happy? When I speak your name,It still brings me tears,And I wish I could hold youFor oh so many years. cricket poems for funerals. Grandmas quilts were always there,A comforting, colourful sight,A source of warmth and motherly love,On cold and lonely nights. The warriors spirit never diesIt lives on in every fightIn every motion, every strideIt shines with power and might. Sorry I had to cut the end off, but ARRSE only lets you post 10,000 characters at a time. A football team is only as good as its last game; the mood of supporters rises and falls with each result. The Beer Prayer - anon - A beer-infused version of the Lord's Prayer. Old Father Time, I pray to youThat clouds give it a rest,And that I get a game today,And that I play my best. As kids, we lived togetherWe fought, we laughed, we cried.We did not always show the love,that we both had inside.We shared our dreams and plans,and some secrets too.All the memories we share,Is what bonds me now to you.We grew to find we have a lovethat is very strong today.Its a love shared by our family,that will never fade away.You are my brother not by choice,but by the nature of our birthI could not have chosen a better oneyou were the best on earth. 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. This upbeat tune was used as the theme for the BBC's Test Cricket Highlights for many years, making it popular funeral music for lifelong cricket fans. Poems for those who had a passion for music during their life, whether as a DJ, singer, or simply music-lover. I discovered you tuckedAway in the shadow of the trees.Then rediscovered you on the smiles of the flowersAs the sun penetrated the petals;In the rhythm of the leavesFalling in the garden;In the freedom of birdsAs they fly searching as you do. Click on the title to continue reading, or browse a larger collection of funeral verses, including non-religious funeral poems and short verses. Walk a while with me my friends, walk with me today,Come and see what I see, and listen to what I say,Yes I have dementia, and sometimes I get worse,Please be very grateful, that you dont have this curse,But are we all that different, the likes of you and me?We breathe the same; we feel the same, the same things we do seeThe only different my friends, I dont feel that well,When I cant remember, everything you tell,My heart beats just as quickly as yours, my blood runs just as fast,But because of my dementia, my shadow, it is cast,Its the shadow cast by others, that takes away my light,Turns my life to darkness, my pleasure to frightFor when you cast that shadow, and it comes my way,It drains me of my energy, makes me hide, or run away,Sometimes I do different things, my mind is not my own,But do YOU never talk to yourself, when you are alone?So am I all that different? Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will 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. That is all.She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.Her diminished size is in me, not in her.And just at the moment when someone at my side says, There, she is gone! there are other eyes watching her coming, and there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout, Here she comes!And that is dying. 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. Poems for those brave men and women who risked their lives to save others from fire. 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! These our actors,As I foretold you, were all spirits andAre melted into air, into thin air:And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,The cloud-cappd towers, the gorgeous palaces,The solemn temples, the great globe itself,Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolveAnd, like this insubstantial pageant faded,Leave not a rack behind. Poems to read for a beloved daughter who has sadly passed away. And in the game of life and love,there are the Kings and Queens.They rule loves game in their own way,at least thats how it seems. Camping Kaitlyn DeMatteo A short verse contemplating the wonders of camping out under the stars.I Feel You Drifting Darren White A moving, heartfelt verse written by a partner to their lost lover.This Journey Is Just Beginning Ju D. G. A lament upon having to part, but hopeful of what might be to come. I had to leave too soon,But love had joined us as I grew inside my Mommys womb. Unique if rudyard kipling related items, Etsy. You took a piece of me with you the day you left,leaving me unable to catch my breath. 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. And we must play on. 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 . Ineffective? The moment I knew about youformed a bond that will never break This tiny life I have insidefrom me no-one could take. Finding You In Beauty Walter Rinder A beautiful poem about the echoes of our loved ones in the beauty around us.The Gardener Mark Gregory A rhythmic poem about the work of a gardener and the fruits of his labour.The Gentle Gardener Edgar Albert Guest A poem about leaving nothing but beauty behind when you pass away.The Glory Of The Garden Rudyard Kipling A poem comparing England to a garden, and praising those who tend it.Meet You At The Gate Barbara Bailey A lovely, slightly religious poem lamenting the loss of a female gardener.The Noblest Work Of Man Mark Gregory A poem urging us not to eschew labour, but to add beauty to the world. But then that week I held her handAnd it slipped away one last timeAnd now theyre in a better placeThose hands that once held mine. Better Drowned than Duffers.If Not Duffers, Won't Drown. But there are those whose whole life is a blessing,Not just a moment, a smile or a word.They make all around them feel special,No person ignored or unheard. You may have thought I didnt see,Or that I hadnt heard,Life lessons that you taught to me,But I got every word. "Alive" by Winifred Mary Letts. So let us keep the warriors spiritAlive in every move we make,For it is through this art, we inheritA strength that will never shake. 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. 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. Over'? Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.I have kissed young love on the lips, I have heard her song to the end.I have struck my hand like a seal in the loyal hand of a friend.I have known the peace of heaven, the comfort of work done well.I have longed for death in the darkness and risen alive out of hell. This will be my final journeyI go with no regretsThe days weve had togetherHave been the very best. Into some other thing. Please smile and do not shed a tear, wipe away that silly frown,Im off upon that final ride, another Biker who has gone down. Above all, Father Time, I prayWhen all is said and done,That we can all look back and sayBy eck, that game was fun!, by the players of East Leeds Cricket Club. Where the Oriole swellsHis throat as he tellsOf his flight through ethereal spaceAnd his music flowsWhile the earths reposeIs deeper because of his grace. Who was that man, you may well ask?To tell you now is my last task.It makes me proud, it makes me glad,To tell you that man, he was my dad. And yet, I watch the magic that they bringWith ease and supple strength and smiling face.They leap and spin and fly and then they swing,Theres nothing that they do thats commonplace. Please tell her she is loved so very dear.Ill say it every day for her to hear.Her short life on earth is now completedFor lessons Im sure you felt I needed. Damn, what a show, we cry:The boys stamp, and the girlsShriek, and the drum boomsAnd all come down, and he bows and says good-bye. We will miss each other for awhile,But you will come and bring your smile.That wont be long you will see,Till were together you and me. A hobby, a pastime, a talent, a pleasureSome things to be worn and others to treasureHer needles now silent, not a sound they will makeBut a lesson she taught us, to give more than you take. You are loved by so many.You might notHave known,But in our heartsIs whereYou have grown. With every brick, a story told,A bright creation, sturdy and bold,A masterpiece that broke the mould:A legacy that will never grow old. I cant stand the hassle, I cant stand the painIm getting those bad cards again and again.So Im giving up bridge Tonights a bad night.Declarer is horrid and nothings going right. You know right from wrong.You are the melody from a beautiful love song. Last updated 8 th October 2021. My three sons I married right,And their sons I rocked at night;Death nor sorrow never broughtCause for one unhappy thought. Although we fell and stumbled at times,all those hills were necessary climbs. It'll knock you for six: the best poem ever written about cricket The fourth candle we light for our love. Death is Not the End Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders,If its only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden,You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden. Farewell My Friend Judy Marriott A poem written for a friend who was by the authors side for many years.Friend Poem anon A poem about always being there for those you love.Goodbye My Friend Karla Bonoff A sorrowful goodbye to a friend who was with us through all of lifes moments.My Wish For You Debra Chesnoff A poem originally written for a good friend diagnosed with a terminal disease.A Real Friend anon A verse comparing a simple friend to a true friend. Poems for those who discovered a love of dance, either watching or participating, throughout their life. Thtitiede. This cord does its work right from the startit binds us together attached to my heartI know that its there though no one can seethe invisible cord from my child to me. Crossword Blindness anon A poem about the struggles of figuring out that one clue that has you stumped.My Pencil Is Ready Ilene Bauer A poem about the joys of puzzling, written for National Crossword Puzzle Day.My Trusty Pencil Ilene Bauer Another poem by Bauer about the necessities of a pencil while doing crosswords. Then a soldier,Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,Seeking the bubble reputationEven in the cannons mouth. We kick off-side by side in a minuteCheered by old family, teammates and friendsFootballs really a blast in heavenAfter your first whistle, the matches never end! Its always opening time in heavenAnd the alcohol doesnt go to your headIt floats around in ones etherAnd fortifies your spirit instead. So let us honour and embrace,Their quiet heart that leaves a trace,Of love and peace, and gentle serene,A vital part of who theyve been. 'Play up! play up!' | Poetry | The Guardian Poems for those who enjoyed flag collecting or were simply masters of vexillology. Poems about those who were selfless in all aspects of their lives. Fly, fly little wingFly where only angels singFly away, the time is rightGo now, find the light. Sowellgono more a-climbingSolate into the night,Though the will be neer unyielding,And the urge be still as bright. Michael Ashby A fun, slightly religious poem with plenty of bingo terminology within.Numbers Up Rebecca Spilsbury A wonderfully moving poem urging the bereaved to live on proudly.Prayer For Bingo Players Bob Barci A fun prayer asking for the perfect conditions for a bingo night.Twenty-Four Numbers anon A poem about the joys of bingo. I have included poems for mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives and children. To the likes of you and me?So, my friends, come walk a while, the futures ours to see. A Day At The Races Graeme Cook A verse about the wonders and marvels of spending a day at the racetrack.The Last Race Barbara Ogilvie A poem highlighting betting on horses as the core of the deceaseds life.The Music Of The Morn Fran Cleland A poem highlighting the wondrous thump of hooves on turf in the morning.Racing Through My Eyes Henry Birtles A wonderful poem that captures the unique atmosphere trackside.When The Ridings Done J. P. Gorham A poem suggesting the spirit of a horse rider will always endure at the track. With my lantern I decide not to go deeperas I stand at the doorwayfeeling much like a gatekeeperwishing it was forever that I could staybut now home is where I must make my way. all is alive,all dances on through time and space,so find the highest tastein all thingson your journeyinto love. 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). As we say goodbye, and bid them adieu,We remember the flag, and all it stands for true.A symbol of liberty, for all to see,We honour their memory, and now set it free. I brood not over the broken past,Nor dread whatever time may bring;No nights are dark, no days are long,While in my heart there swells a song,And I can sing. The sun goes down,But gentle warmthStill lingers on the land. For in the real scheme of things,Your illness wasnt long.Compared to all the happiness,You brought your whole life long. 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. Thanks A life well lived is a precious giftOf hope and strength and grace,From someone who has made our worldA brighter, better placeIts filled with moments, sweet and sadWith smiles and sometimes tears,With friendships formed and good times sharedAnd laughter through the years.A life well lived is a legacyOf joy and pride and pleasure,A living, lasting memoryOur grateful hearts will treasure. Not having a good fielder is bad luck. Crouching down low, I wait for the starters gunBang! Today, the road all runners come,Shoulder-high we bring you home,And set you at your threshold down,Townsman of a stiller town. When my bowling ball reaches the end of the alleyI hope for a strike.And when my life culminates in a dramatic finale,Thats what Id like. 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. The race begins,as engines roar.They charge ahead,like a wild boar. White wings will carry you and you will be flown. Coast to coast across England in one day;A hundred miles in one trip. 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. Now Grandmas gone to heaven,But her quilts will long remain,Their beauty and their warmth live on,A comforting, loving refrain. Patti Masterman A poem about being grateful that your body lasted as long as it did. 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. With every stroke, I feel so freeAs I glide across the wavesThe world and its worries, I can seeDrifting away in a haze. Ring out the want, the care, the sin,The faithless coldness of the times;Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymesBut ring the fuller minstrel in. The second candle represents the courage to confront our sorrow, to comfort each other, and to change our lives. cricket poems for funerals. Just let me laugh with every tree,let me be barefoot and free,let every rock be overturned,let every blade of grass be learned,let the sky sleep over mewhile I am watching underneath let me weave a daisy chainto make into a bloomin wreath.Give me a flowered path to climb,I need no food, I need no bed,just let me live while Im aliveand I will rest when I am dead. Free Funeral Poems and Memorial Verses - Next Gen Memorials How could such blazing colour leave? Poems for those who forged a career as a hair stylist, and had a passion for hair design. 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. The strings were tied, it was freshly washed, and maybe even pressed.For Grandma, it was every day to choose one when she dressed.The simple apron that it was, you would never think about.the things she used it for, that made it look worn out. 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. The Darkness Of The Theatre Mark Gregory A fitting poem for someone who loved watching movies at the cinema.Funeral Blues W. H. Auden The now famous poem thanks to its recital in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral.O Me! cricket poems for funerals. And as I grow older its life I suppose But more and more things just get right up my nose!Like young mums with their kids and their stupid wee dolliesWho chat, blocking the aisles with their damned shopping trolleys.I barge my way past, just as rough as I can,So the bitches will know Im a grumpy old man. Publication date 1905 Publisher London : Simpkin Collection cdl; americana Digitizing sponsor MSN Contributor University of California Libraries Language English. 50 Beautiful Funeral Poems To Honor A Loved One's Memory The water can be healing It always was for me Just take time to rememberAnd I think that you will see. Your life was fueled by coffee,That much we know is true.It was more than just a drink,But a way of life for you. Mother, you were just a girl, So many years ago. What secrets are revealedWhilst mirrored in that chairAll caped or gowned and waitingFor the trusted hairdresser to share, As scissors work at a frenzyFeverishly between cuts and snipsShe listens intently with friendly earEmpathy at her finger tips. We know you can still hear us, Dad,So please know that this is true:Everything we are todayIs all because of YOU. Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die. They laugh and have a kick around. Youve got to know when to hold emKnow when to fold emKnow when to walk awayAnd know when to runYou never count your moneyWhen youre sittin at the tableTherell be time enough for countinWhen the dealins done. 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. My father-in-law was cricket barmy. And though we wish it couldhave stayed, we feel so lucky to have seen it. I am a man who works with God,I cannot succeed without his help,For you see,Im just a farmerPlain and simple. 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. This wretched pain inside of meMy throat, my heart, my now. But a heaven is easier made of nothing at allThan the earth regained, and still and sole withinThe spin of worlds, with a gesture sure and nobleHe reels that heaven in,Landing it ball by ball,And trades it all for a broom, a plate, a table. 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. Id like to leave but daffodilsto mark my little way,To leave but tulips red and whitebehind me as I stray;Id like to pass away from earthand feel Id left behindBut roses and forget-me-notsfor all who come to find. But then, your spirit came to restWhere angels chose to roamAnd once equipped with ten-pound testYou made yourself at home. Full words to the inspiring Derby poem that's read before every Rams 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. The Brightest Cave anon A poem from a male to his lover, describing her as the brightest thing Id ever seen.Cave of Wonders Nikki Pruitt A wonderful poem about a trip underground in the caverns so deep.Cave Song Neveah Bradford A short, mournful poem about the cave saying goodbye to its explorers. I don't mind dying But I want my funeral to be fine: A row of long tall mammas Fainting, Fanning and crying - Langston Hughes. Dont look to right or left at all,For that is how the mighty fall! Like the car he drives,He will pass you in the fast lane of life,Like the blaring music from his car,He loves life and a good joke,Like the roaring engine of his car,His temper will take off like a racer to the finish line,With his fast car he ran straight through everyones heart,When his engine went he went along with his fast car to heaven,Going fast as he could down the road of eternal sleep,While he lies in his eternal sleep never to wake his fast car lies with him!