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. Poems for watchmakers, clock collectors, or anyone who had a passion for timekeeping. We travelled the path of our lives side by sideBut this path you walked on your ownTo a world where no pain and no suffering resideWhile I stay in this world alone. Pink tights by the moundBobby pins all aroundLeotards on the floorPointe shoes by the door. After the night, the morning, bidding all darkness cease, When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay,And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say,He was a man who used to notice such things? So from this moment, lets endeavourTo celebrate these worlds so clever;Well think of them, whenever, wherever:A legacy, to go on forever. His labourers name was Dodger who would work now and then, most of the time was spent at The Bookies placing bets for other men. It was a heaven houseThe books were there, and so were people whoLoved reading them, and that is all that matters. 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. 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. )Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renewd,Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,The question, O me! These funeral poems and readings are reflective and comforting. 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. 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. Pirouette, PirouetteDancers silhouettePracticing at duskDedication is a must. From the depths of my heart, come the words of a brother,where our souls and our minds, are like that of no other.The spirit of competition, will always be there,in the look of our eyes, and the glance of our stare.Protecting each other, is always a must,good times or bad times, never losing that trust.Like a vision of Indians, riding across desert sand,or the heart of a Raider, when he conquers new land.We never lacked courage, or showed too much pride,with no thoughts of guilt, or feelings put to the side.Its important to strive forward, and not live through regret,but to savor the memories, and to never forget.To be such close companions, always made me so proud,never scared to express feelings, our emotions speak loud.Whether its heaven or on earth, our souls are always together,we share that sacred bond, knowing that brothers last forever. Its anyone youve ever lovedwho mourns you in the end. When I was born that man was there,Tall and strong and fair of hair.He watched my mother give me birth,As I fought my way onto this Earth. The fire tone rang. Langston Hughes remarks: As Befits a Man. Last dogwatch done.Now a new berth awaits you on the other side. Ive learned so much throughout my lifebut theres much I dont recall.I know its in there somewhereBut its hard to find it all.Its not that Ive forgotten you,or the things I said Id do;I remember everythingBut its hidden somewhere I cant seejust beyond my view. When I feel overwhelmed by destruction,Let me go down to the sea.Let me sit by the immeasurable oceanAnd watch the surfBeating in and running out all day and all nightLet me sit by the seaAnd have the bitter sea windsSlap my cheeks with their cold, damp handsUntil I am sensible again.Let me look at the sky at nightAnd let the stars tell meOf limitless horizons and unknown universesUntil I am grown calm and strong once more. So let us ride to help make others aware.That the roads that we ride are for all to share. But take heed, becauseShes still keeping an eye on all of us,So lets make sureShe will like what she sees. Ill never get to see your precious face;or whisper words to make you feel safeIll never get to hold you tightwhen you cant sleep at nightIll never get to sing to you a sweet lullaby,to calm you down when you cryIll never get to fall asleep with you in my arms,all bundled in a blanket to keep you warmIll never get to hear you laugh and giggleor see you little toes wiggleThere are many things I will never get to do,but the hardest is not being with you. Sun will warm the daylight hours;The lighthouse illume the night.Waves provide rhythm and gulls give voice Music to ease my flight. We light this candle that your light may always shineWith the love that you gave to us all. You raised a fine family, worked the land well and always followed the Son,Hang up your shovel inside of the barn; your work here on earth is done. Dont get your feet wet when you throw,And to this advice please hark,Take up a firm but easy stance Behind the eight-foot mark! Last updated 8 th October 2021. Theres food down my shirt-front and some in my beardCos I eat off my knee and I dont think its weird;When I lounge in my armchair while watching the tellyAnd my food drips unheeded all over my bellyIts a trait of the aged from here to Japan;A perk just for being a grumpy old man. by | Jun 10, 2022 | noco youth hockey | pinal county obituaries | Jun 10, 2022 | noco youth hockey | pinal county obituaries But every life that ever forms,Or ever comes to be,Touches the world in some small wayFor all eternity. Unknown Life is simply a cricket match, with temptation as the bowler. 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. Poems reflecting a passion and love for birds, bird-watching, and anything remotely aviary in nature. At Lords Francis Thompson A condensed version by the famous poet encapsulating the atmosphere at Lords.Cricketers Last Boundary Michael Ashby A poem for a cricket-lover full of cricketing metaphors.A Cricketers Prayer anon A prayer that the game of cricket (and life) will be won, or at least be fair.The Cricketers Prayer East Leeds CC An adaptation of the Lords Prayer put together by a Yorkshire club. That would be the most meaningful of all. "All is Well" by Henry Scott Holland. 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. This wretched pain inside of meMy throat, my heart, my now. Poems for those who had a calm aura, or poems for those who seek calmness in death. And so we meet in remembrance,Of a mind so fit and true.Were here to pay our last respectsTo say that, We love you. 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. Broken beyond repair? A Poem for Mother. 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. 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. Lay lady lay, in crimson and cloverIts been a hard days night, the partys over. The water can be healing It always was for me Just take time to rememberAnd I think that you will see. We never had the chance to play,To laugh, to rock, to wiggle.We long to hold you, touch you nowAnd listen to you giggle. Add languages. Hegot into competition,but didnt really trust it,and the main games of life allseemed rigged, one wayor another. 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. Tiny Angel shook his head,These things I do not knowBut I do know that you love me,And that I love you so., This was a life that had hardly begunNo time to find your place in the SunNo time to do all you could have doneBut we loved you enough for a lifetimeNo time to enjoy the world and its wealthNo time to take life down off the shelfNo time to sing the songs of yourselfThough you had enough love for a lifetime. Apart from its sporting associations, this cheerful song is the audio equivalent of a ray of sunshine - perfect for celebration of life funerals. 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. FIRE!Adrenaline, excitement, the love of the challengeSirens wail, and it comes into sight,Flames and smoke rising into the night.All geared up, ready to save, ready to fight.Hose in hand heads straight for the danger.He kicked the door in knew just what to doThe fire and smoke pouring out He tucked his head down and dove in.They tried so hard to find him,But the fire was just too strong;We lost him in this round the fire had won.He gave his life doing what he loved, But he was way too young to die!Our gentle giant is now at peace;Now to save lives he will use wings!How to go on without him He touched so many lives But we know that only comes in time.Hes up there with his mamma now.Smiling down on us dimples and all!Too young to go we have to let go But we all miss and love him so! In the Theatre Of DreamsThe lights have dimmedThe curtains about to close, Its the end of the showSadly it happened you knowLife just ebbs and flows, The cast in my lifeWere my children, my wifeNow only memories fill my head, I have lived all my dreamsNow its the end of the sceneMy script has finally been read, When you walk through a stormHold your head up highAnd dont be afraid of the dark, At the end of a stormTheres a golden skyAnd the sweet silver song of a lark, Walk on through the windWalk on through the rainFor your dreams be tossed and blown, Walk on, walk onWith hope in your heartAnd youll never walk aloneYoull never walk alone. When the long, dark night is overAnd heaven begins its reignI promise you my darlingI will see you again. You were a blessing to us allyou were a special child.And were so glad God sent youto be with us awhile. So dance with me this eveningAbove the lands belowThe clouds provide our dance floorNeath the light of those we know. A product of where youve been, What youve done and what theyve seen, Theyve learnt most from the example you have set, So not totally to blame, Not too different, but the same, We all think we tried our very best, and yet? Keep the men happy and the girls nice,Let everybody be merry and have a good night.Keep the hookers out and the troublemakers at home,Leave the anger and misgivings at the door. 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. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overheadScribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. We forged our bond with love, not tears,Linking arms, we walked as one,Now is my turn to rest a while,I have reached the final stile,But you must carry on. The first candle represents our grief. When my sailing days are over,And I sail the seas no more,I shall build myself a refugeBy the oceans murmuring shore.As I watch the foaming breakersWhen the tide comes rushing in,I will contemplate my lifetimeWith its virtues and its sins. what day does pilot flying j pay; western power distribution. radcliff ky city council candidates 2020 The Road goes ever on and onOut from the door where it began.Now far ahead the Road has gone,Let others follow it who can!Let them a journey new begin,But I at last with weary feetWill turn towards the lighted inn,My evening-rest and sleep to meet. Building A Legacy Mark Gregory A lovely little poem for a creative and passionate Lego builder.Lego House Britney Njomo I might be out of mindbut Im forever the queen of my Lego house.Ode To My Legos Dylan Harvey A poem ideal for the death of a child whose had a marvellous time with Lego. 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. I Hold The Heights Geoffrey Winthrop Young An abridged version of the original which basks in the glory of hiking.Im Climbing A Mountain Andrew Blakemore An uplifting poem about the sights and sounds of a climb.So Well Go No More A-Climbing anon An adaptation of Lord Byrons original; a lament to a climbing partner. A Boy And His Dad Edgar Guest A beautiful poem ideal for a son to read at his fathers funeral.The Fishermans Prayer anon A slightly humorous adaptation of the Lords Prayer for a fisherman.Fish Tales anon A short, slightly religious poem about the lasting memory a family will have of their lost loved one.Gone Fishin Delmar Pepper A poem about accepting lifes end as simply going fishing for longer than usual.Heavens Fishing Hole anon A beautiful, slightly religious poem describing the deceased new fishing place. 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.. 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.