He picked up bricks, mortar and trowel to craftBarbies and walls, buildings and homes that lastAn arch or a curve, all his work set apart,Because each brick he placed, was a work of art. - Navjot Sidhu 8 0 Add a comment Go after your dreams.Be bold. There was a time when I was freeTo live my life in harmony,Before the illness, which blighted me,Swept faces and places from my mind,People I loved from my memory. We sit a whileWe guess bird namesWe look them upWe watch bird games. 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. Land of the rainbow gold,For flood and fire and famine she pays us back threefold.Over the thirsty paddocks, watch, after many days,The filmy veil of greenness that thickens as we gaze. 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. The city . When I speak your name,Its because you no longer can,And I want the world to knowWhat a goof I had. Im old and Im bitter, with nothing to fearSo I hope I offend you by bending your ear.Its my one joy in life you can like it or not No answer in edgeways? God saw her getting tiredAnd a cure was not to beSo he put His arms around herAnd whispered Come to me.. A timers ringing in my earThe dish of my lifetime is finally hereLove, family, friendship and cakeIngredients that really helped keep me awakeBut Ive now run out of that most important of allIve scoured the kitchen and even searched the hallIf only Id been more sage with my thymeAnd possibly quaffed alittleless wineSo please stand and shout with me, if you dont mindMORE THYME! Daughter, life is not the samenow youre no longer here,but our love for you is still strongand will remain year after year. Its been a long time since we first felt the beginning to this end.And today we pray before you; your family and your friends.Weve watched your thoughts get more obscure with every passing day;As this heartless thing called Alzheimers made them fade away.Gradually it took the gleam from those once so loving eyes.To befall on such a giving manit seemed so unjustified.Stripping you of everything, leaving nothing in its placeExcept a look of sadness left upon your face.As long as we have searched, through all the tears weve criedWeve tried to find the reason for this long good-bye.But now its time to take back all your memoriesAs you are finally free from this cruel disease.We pledge to remember the man that you once were;A good hearted, giving man is all that will be heard.And every night when we look up and see a certain starWe will know within our hearts exactly where you are.So on this day we say good-bye as you now depart.Although far from our touch, never far from our hearts. And though you are gone, though youre not here with methe cord is still there but no one can seeIt pulls at my heart, I am bruisedI am sorebut this cord is my lifeline as never before. Keeping the attendees engaged with a brief but heartfelt poem can be a good way to make. Smart lad, to slip betimes awayFrom fields where glory does not stay,And early though the laurel growsIt withers quicker than the rose. Well think of all the moviesThat brought them laughter and tearsAnd though theyre gone from us nowIn our hearts, theyll always be near. They are not the same. Now Grandmas gone to heaven,But her quilts will long remain,Their beauty and their warmth live on,A comforting, loving refrain. 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. We all paint our lives.The mountains of challenges,The rivers of tears,The waterfalls of joy. As eighteen flags flew at half mast, andGlasses were soberly raised highThe latest member was having a ballAt the golf course in the sky, Freed from the gravity of the situationThe first tee shot soared through spaceBringing a wondrous, beaming smileTo a kind, down to earth face, Surrounded by old club friendsOnce thought never to be seen againThe infinity course beckoned aheadEighteen holes were for mere mortal men. Hello there, Granddad.Its me, your little man,I couldnt find you yesterday,When I came to visit Nan. And yet the cares are manyand the hours of toil are few;There is not time enough on earthfor all Id like to do;But, having lived and having toiled,Id like the world to findSome little touch of beautythat my soul had left behind. 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. 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. Life gave you many challenges Too many to be fair I only wish in all those timesI could have been right there. March Madness is the great excitement right now (apart from American Idol), and there is a strange assumption that this madness is internationalthat the world is somehow involved with this madness. I have always neededthe solace of storiesthe companionship of charactersthe escape of other worldsthe wisdom of wordsthe guidance of good writing. You are elegant and charming. Of course, you could also write your own. I was just an average batsman, and a less than average fielder. Best Rugby Poems. For forty years Ive lived with God,Oft from the haunts of men.Ive thought upon His wondrous wordAnd scenes beyond our ken. Poems for those who made a living as a florist, or who simply enjoyed picking, giving or receiving flowers. Survival and loveare what counts, and arentgames. 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! You are loved by so many.You might notHave known,But in our heartsIs whereYou have grown. And though we wish it couldhave stayed, we feel so lucky to have seen it. And those tear-arse young drivers who must overtakeThen go at speeds lower than I want to make.No tail-gating for me, and I dont use my horn,But I heartily wish that theyd never been bornAnd I see Hades open to eat car or van;That did it, because Im a grumpy old man. Poems reflecting upon the importance of the memories we have of others. Your labor is done, your home now is heaven; no more must you wait,Your legacy lives on, your love of the land, and we will close the gate. I juggle through the hours, and make them all my own,Through morn and eve and noon, I set a juggling tone,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. I do not think of you lying in the wet clayOf a Monaghan graveyard; I seeYou walking down a lane among the poplarsOn your way to the station, or happily. - Navjot Sidhu 5 1 Add a comment The third umpires should be changed as often as nappies and for the same reason. Were many in number but we ride as one, With the pavement beneath us and our face in the sun.With the wind at our backs and our gear all on, We ride in remembrance of those who have passed on. As the flag is lowered to half mast,We mourn the loss of one who has passed.A lover of flags, they stood so proud,A symbol of freedom, they did avow. M. K. Paul A verse asking the question of what exactly a fathers role is in life. You were a blessing to us allyou were a special child.And were so glad God sent youto be with us awhile. This is the end of serviceFor it and one you loveA subtle juxtapositionOf which is up above. 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. 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. 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. Last dogwatch done.Now a new berth awaits you on the other side. I watched them tearing a building down,A gang of men in a busy town.With a ho-heave-ho and lusty yell,They swung a beam and a sidewall fell.I asked the foreman, Are these men skilled,As the men youd hire if you had to build?He gave me a laugh and said No indeed!Just common labour is all I need.I can easily wreck in a day or twoWhat builders have taken a year to do.And I thought to myself as I went my way,Which of these two roles have I tried to play?Am I a builder who works with care,Measuring life by the rule and square?Am I shaping my deeds by a well-made plan,Patiently doing the best I can?Or am I a wrecker who walks the town,Content with the labour of tearing down? They kept us warm on winter nights,A sense of peace and calm,They were more than just plain fabric;They were creations of her palm. You left this life so quicklyand I am left to mourn Yet precious memories fill my heartsince the day that you were born. But it is only a game, right?So we stand up, we shake hands.We move on with our lives. Soft whistlingBats perched on the ceilingTears of the cavesDripping and echoingGentle lapping waterAcross rocking shoresGlowing mushrooms andGlowing wormsStalactites and stalagmitesShuddering in placeWarm, soft breathsOf bears who hibernateThe cave is sleepingBut very aliveAnd it is singingA mournful goodbye. White rose petals fall and blossoms fade,Memories linger yet,Recollections of happier times,You never will forget. Written with a pen.Sealed with a kiss.If you are my friend,please answer this: Are we friendsOr are we not?You told me onceBut I forgot. Be and bebetter. 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! How lucky I was,How blessed Ive been,You were more than my Aunt,You were also my friend. 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. When great trees fall,rocks on distant hills shudder,lions hunker downin tall grasses,and even elephantslumber after safety. If someone had to describe you, so many words come to mind.Beauty and grace, a heart so kind. For you were one of lifes true best,A little mean, but oh the rest,Your heart bigger than all weve known,A personality of your own. 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. She may have used it to hold some wildflowers that shed found.Or to hide a crying childs face when a stranger came around.Imagine all the little tears that were wiped with just that cloth.Or it became a potholder to serve some chicken broth. I deal with screamingchildren,who dont want a cut.And the people who keep rolling in,after the doors should shut. 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. Do not go gentle into that good night, Here lies a man who loved the game,Of knights and bishops, pawns and rooks,He spent his days in quiet thought,Wondering which piece should be took. Weve travelled miles upon this earthWithout home behind the carThe fun and laughter we have sharedAs we travelled long and far. A Drinking Song - W. B. Yeats - a short verse pondering over the role of wine and love in life. And if I dieBefore you do,Ill go to heavenAnd wait for you. I will miss youOh so much.So will allThe lives thatYou haveTouched. They have outlivedtheir usefulness and cannot get warm and full.You talk to the clothes and explain that he is not coming back. If I could fly like a birdtime would slow me downgiving me time to enjoy thepeace that surrounds all around.If I could fly likea bird swift as a lightI know for a factI would love this graceful flight. I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tideIs a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,And the flung spray and the blown spume and the seagulls crying. Im climbing a mountainI feel like a bird in the air,Im gliding and soaringAnd feel like I havent a care. The time has come when time is no moreand all thats left was once before. If, when hearing that I have been stilled at last, they stand at the door,Watching the full-starred heavens that winter sees,Will this thought rise on those who will meet my face no more,He was one who had an eye for such mysteries? The moment I knew about youformed a bond that will never break This tiny life I have insidefrom me no-one could take. For the cricket ball writ with a noble name, A team of ten, which had once been eleven, Since this wicket had fallen some days ago, And as the bowler delivered to the lone batsman, The cricketer crossing the last boundary, To a third innings that would forever last. 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. Im thankful that my heart connects us this waya mother and child, death cant take it away! Aunts have no wands or wings,So they work with wisdom, love, and things.Having taken on this role,You loved me right down to my soul. When you were a boy I dreamedOf the man you would become;But life had other plans for youWith challenges more than one. Were not saying that you were mean,But your wallet, seldom seen,Youd complain and mutter on,And yet were sad that you are gone. Poems about grandmothers, grandmas, nannies and grans. Here are some suggestions for anyone wishing to choose a moving poem or verse for their loved one's funeral. So, our sweetYoull never be goneCause your laughter and loveWill always shine through. I know how much it hurt your soulWhen we had to say goodbyeBut Im not gone, Im always hereI am your butterfly. Tell me, what does it look like in heaven?Is it peaceful? That Hand is you, Old Sailor.And youll be sailing out on Heavenly Seas.May the wind be ever at your back.Fair weather, and God Speed! 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 fourth rose is for our love.We enjoy beauty and its presence,Continuing to guide and lead us.Regardless of the seasons of our lives,Our love for you will continue. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. The sky became your deep blue seaThe clouds became your shoreAnd there, for all eternityYou sat with friends galore. We light these five candles in honour of our loved ones: One for our grief, one for our courage, one for our memories, one for our love, and one for our hope. O precious, tiny, sweet little oneYou will always be to me.So perfect, pure, and innocentJust as you were meant to be. Its all these thingsand so much more,so dont stress.If you lived your lifeWild-n-free,Then its been a success. On the ashes of our Baseball Ground. But then, like sunshine, here and goneYou left us in the mournful dark.The time we shared was full of warmthOur flame sustained us through the yearsAnd now it lights the path aheadBetween the silence and the tears. 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. From the first time that you hold em,Through every time you scold em,And every soiled nappy that youve changed,From all the crap you saw,They will always dish out more,Its just the way that children are arranged. Knit one purl one, knit one purl oneThe band was almost doneThe soft sound of the needles clickety clackFinish one row, turn around and go back. The archer and his bowAlways achieve gloryThough this is the endOf their epic story. They swiftly snatch a morning snack.One flies away,One flies back. Where on Shaftesbury Cres, the kids now play. For a deeply private man it was a brief and intensely private funeral. 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 those who lived their lives on farms and tended for cattle, crops, and land. Im sorry, friends, that I cant be with you here today.If youre gathered reading this, it means Ive passed away.But if I were there, Id tell you not to shed a tear or frown.Id tell you just to simply say, Another Biker has gone down.. I know now you are with meI feel your caressIll go on living for you,I could do nothing less. A Fleeting Image Avi Fleischer A beautiful poem about life with several artistic metaphors.Go On With The Day Silvia Hartmann A poem urging those left behind to marvel at the beauty and art within life.Importance of Art Komal Jindal A poem highlighting the deceaseds artistic achievements.We Are All Painters Ola Radka A short verse arguing that everyone paints their life with beauty and emotion. Friend and kin,I loved them so;Although Im gone,Im sure they know. Im giving up bridge Tonights my last nightIts amen to Staymen, I give up the fight.The insults and muddles are giving me troublesAnd I cant sleep at night for thinking of doubles. 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. All the worlds a stage,And all the men and women merely players;They have their exits and their entrances;And one man in his time plays many parts,His acts being seven ages. Mother wore an ample apronTo cover her clean dress.Shed tell you thats what it was forIf you asked her, I would guess. So when you talk of family lifeOr how it used to beThough many had more moneyNone were as rich as me. One more day to sing our song, Close To You,and listen to you sing it to your son too. It's been mixed up week here at STW Towers, mostly thanks to everyone suddenly realising they haven't used up their annual leave so they'd better take some time off. Can anyone help me? Poems for those who shared a passion for rowing, canoeing, kayaking, and other oar-based water sports. A limb has fallen from the family tree.I keep hearing a voice that says,Grieve not for me.Remember the best times,the laughter, the song.The good life I livedwhile I was strong.Continue my heritage,Im counting on you.Keep smiling and surelythe sun will shine through.My mind is at ease,my soul is at rest.Remembering all,how I truly was blessed.Continue traditions,no matter how small.Go on with your life,dont worry about falls.I miss you all dearly,so keep up your chin.Until the day comeswere together again..
