A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam, and for abrief moment its glory and beauty belong to our world:but then it flies again. A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip There is a glorious fellowship!Father and son and the open skyAnd the white clouds lazily drifting by,And the laughing stream as it runs alongWith the clicking reel like a martial song,And the father teaching the youngster gayHow to land a fish in the sportsmans way. One is MS Dhoni and the other are the all others. 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. Today, the road all runners come,Shoulder-high we bring you home,And set you at your threshold down,Townsman of a stiller town. Great souls die andour reality, bound tothem, takes leave of us.Our souls,dependent upon theirnurture,now shrink, wizened.Our minds, formedand informed by theirradiance, fall away.We are not so much maddenedas reduced to the unutterable ignorance ofdark, cold caves. Youve always made me happy,I hope you can truly see.Youre more than just an Uncle,youre also a great friend to me. 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. 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. William Shakespeare. Life is chess.There is always a competitor;one side is always dealt a better hand,pressure to win for bothpressure to impress. This traverse may the poorest takeWithout oppress of toll;How frugal is the chariotThat bears a human soul! Over and over againjust as he had done all his serving dayshis lips would still defiantly and valiantly speakof how he had fought so hard that enemy flamewith every ounce of strength his body could aim. Maailmankaikkeus. But then, your spirit came to restWhere angels chose to roamAnd once equipped with ten-pound testYou made yourself at home. The tales you told about each catchIts stature and its girthWill live in memories unmatchedAs days pass here on earthUntil we meet again, one dayUpon Gods golden sandWell picture you, no other wayThan with a pole in hand. Michael Ashby A humorous play-on-words about death and cooking.Mothers Apron Joyce Johnson A similar piece to the above, but with subtleties that befit a mother.Riches Jeanne D. Rhein A lovely, comforting piece about the cosy, familial comforts of a home-cooked meal. Non-religious funeral readings are a beautiful way to connect to grieving loved ones, giving you the ability to make a non-religious funeral personal and unique. Guest. And when great souls die,after a period peace blooms,slowly and alwaysirregularly. Its bad times youve persevered.Its all the fun youve had.Its any time youve ever laughedand every tear youve shed. 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. A family is a placeTo cry, and laugh and vent frustrationsTo ask for help, to tease and yellTo be touched and hugged and smiled at.A family is people who care when you are sadWho love you no matter whatWho share your triumphs and dont expect you to be perfectJust growing with honesty in your own direction.A family is a circle where we learn to like ourselvesWhere we learn to make good decisionsWhere we learn to think before we doWhere we learn patience and table mannersAnd respect for other peopleA family is a place where we share ideasWhere we listen and are listened to Where we learn the rules of life to prepare us for the world.The world is a place where anything can happenAnd if we grow up in a loving family We are ready for the world. Poems for petrol heads, or simply for those who enjoyed a Sunday drive. 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. It's quite funny too. 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? The place where we share our secrets,and it always just makes sense,Where my soul can be wide open,true and free without defence,Split by a generation,simply makes us both so nearer,To words so true from both,whether youre the speaker or the hearer. Grandmas quilts held memories,Of bygone days and years,Of loved ones gathered round the hearth,And tales of joy and cheer. In this lonely place, beside a spring,I brew my tea and dream.The green leaves dance and whisper secretsIn the quiet afternoon sun. 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! Thanks to Roger. My love, you gave yourself to meAnd life caught fire from your spark. Front-wheel down now, still Im flying, Through the gearbox, deftly plying, Speedo reads two hundred plus, Got up there without a fuss, Hard on brakes, back through the box, For an instant, rear wheel locks, Round the bend, my weight Im shifting, As the rear wheel, neatly drifting. Her creations all made with such skill and such careLove knitted into the gifts who would shareA jacket for a baby, a blanket or twoIn almost every shade from pink to blue. Her arms both glittered, her legs glistened, Her neck was a twinkle on display, She was a shiny beautiful colourful star, When she walked throughout the day. Ambitious new money tries hard to competeto break into the circle, become the eliteBy trying too hard, their case is rejectedThose subtle old judgements, still roundly respected. A Bricklayer Lou Szymkow A poem reflecting the natural talents and hard-working craft of a bricklayer.Bricklayers Lament Sylvia Spencer A poem about a hard-working builder with a less-than-ideal team beneath him.The Bridge Builder Will Allen Dromgoole A touching poem about building bridges for others, rather than for yourself.Wreckers Or Builders? Farewell to Middle-earth at last.I see the Star above my mast! And if Im asked to bowl I prayThe ball leaves my hand true,So whether or not wickets comeIll know that theyre my due. There it goes.On lifes track I am starting to run. Someday when Im all grown up,Youre what I want to be.Then I will have a little childWholl want to follow me. We shared ourBirthdaySince I was five.My wish now will beTo have you back healthyAnd alive. They took away my freedom,They took away my choice,And when they got their hooks in,You could hear it in my voice. And bayberry, that through sweet bevies thread. Dark depths of the ocean:A world unknown to the human race,Careful of every motionSo as not to disturb this place.Colours you have never seen before;Fish that can fit in the palm of your hand;Plants covering most of the ocean floor;All that is left is sparkling white sand.Staring in awe, as an outsider looking in,This world is perfect it seems Wishing I would never leave this intriguing island;Maybe I will visit it again in my dreams. The archer and his bow:Take aim and let the arrow fly,It hits, fast as lightning A perfect bulls-eye. Golden wheat in sheaves preparedFor winter that will reign,The story of the life of manTold by the golden grain. 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. Poems for those who had a love of candles and incense, or poems that evoke candles and candlelight. So I kayak, and I am at peaceThis is my world; this is my wealthAnd I know this joy will never ceaseIn my kayak, I am truly myself. You can shed tears that she is goneOr you can smile because she has lived, You can close your eyes and pray that she will come backOr you can open your eyes and see all that she has left, Your heart can be empty because you cant see herOr you can be full of the love that you shared, You can remember her and only that she is goneOr you can cherish her memory and let it live on. 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. When you spiralled down and moreI longed for a reverse,Id have given my right armFor your pain to disperse. Standing and waiting for the race of life to beginIm getting quite nervous.Am I going to win? Poems for those who shared a passion for travel on two pedalled wheels. His conscience on one hand the white man guide,Desire with equal skill the black direct;An angel and a demon on each sideSurvey the game for its result elect. 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. Poems for those who suffered from terminal illness in their final years. Just throw your best, and throw with zest,And remember the follow-through,And practice whenever you get the chanceIf you know whats good for you! 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. While working for Birmingham 2022 Commonwealth Games, I wrote a series of quintets - something of an ode for each sport at the Games. por | Jun 14, 2022 | considera la reazione di decomposizione del perossido di idrogeno | how to make a braided rug lay flat | Jun 14, 2022 | considera la reazione di decomposizione del perossido di idrogeno | how to make a braided rug lay flat A Drinking Song - W. B. Yeats - a short verse pondering over the role of wine and love in life. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your backOr you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on. 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. Add languages. You were a blessing to us allyou were a special child.And were so glad God sent youto be with us awhile. enter an oceanfeeling insignificant,overwhelmed by its enormity. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your backOr you can do what he would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on. Death is an inevitable fate.Someday we have to go.You hope you didyour best in life,but how are you to know? She is in the presence of a storythat is lifting her out of her lifeand carrying her offto a place where the air is clearand the sun is always shining,to a place where the charactersare larger than lifeand their passions run deep,to a place where she is freeto lose herselfin the company of words. 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. Deep pools of bluewith enchanting emerald green hueswaters untouched by any handstoney beaches with no sand. A mile of gleaming metal linesThe circle and the park;Out of saddles, boots hit brickAnd make for chapels heart. I dont know when it started,Or how it all began,But God created families,As only our Lord can. Four Roses For You anon A blessing ideal for use alongside the visual aid of four real roses.I Gathered Petals In My Hand Lou Szymkow A verse about the quiet, private moments we spent with our dead.I Place A Rose Lou Szymkow A poem about the pain of loss, and the symbolism of placing flowers by the graveside.The Rose Beyond The Wall A. L. Frink A poem about remaining hopeful, even when someone has passed out of sight.Time Heals anon A short poem about how just like a flower blooms, so too will our happy memories. He was teaching what it meansTo love, honor, and obey.He wanted a strong bondThat we dont see too much today. The NHS Overused? Im thankful that my heart connects us this waya mother and child, death cant take it away! Final words and kisses, thenThe pipes Amazing Grace;Souls of bike and rider seekEternal resting place. MORE THYME! She tumbles on the floor with art,Her movements swift and sure,Her strength and flexibility,So wonderful, so pure. Poems about losing a child, especially at a young age. The fire tone rang. Where the azure of the heavensMeets the undulating blue,Where the sweeping, soaring seagullFlies its endless quest for food.It is there that I would rest,When my work on earth is done,At the endless blue horizonNeath the crimson, setting sun. In life, they loved their family, With a love that knew no bounds, Their heart was filled with joy and pride, When their loved ones were around. The Beer Prayer - anon - A beer-infused version of the Lord's Prayer. The LORD is my caddie; I shall not whiff.He maketh me to drive straight down green fairways:He leadeth me over the still waters.He restoreth my swing:He leadeth me in the paths of truthfulness for the games sake.Yea, though I pitch through the valley of the shadow of the woods,I will fear no bunkers: for thou art with me;Thy wedge and thy putter they comfort me.Thou preparest a line before me in the presence of mind hazards:Thou anointest my stroke with confidence;the cup will not be runneth over.Surely birdies and eagles shall follow me all the rounds of my life:and I will dwell in the clubhouse of the LORD for ever. They are not the same. 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. Time flies like an arrow .. fruit flies like a banana. Can you send cremation ashes in the post? You are loved by so many.You might notHave known,But in our heartsIs whereYou have grown. Anger, hate, sorrow and fear, emotions within meant to be kept at bay,Courage, patients, persistence within ones mind and soul each dayThe art of fighting is so much more than just effective ways to kill,It sharpens and enriches the human mind with each new learned skill. I here profess my strong beliefIn my revealed Lord;Ive found Him in the rocky leaf,And his inspired word. Tossed to and fro in a raging tide of emotion;without you, Im just so lost and broken. The parents in the middle though,cant share this special caring,Its just for us, my Gran and I,adventures we are sharing,And even if my situations bad,my Gran is not deterred,What is it about a Grandmother?I think Love must be the word! Well take the time togetherTo catch up on the pastTo build a new beginningOne that will always last. 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.