A golden heart stopped beatingHard-working hands put to restGod broke our hearts to prove to usHe only takes the best. My cards are all rotten and I have forgottenWhos played and whats trumps and whats gone on my right!So for now its all over Im off to the back woodIm bidding good-bye to Gerber and Blackwood. You are loved so much. 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. 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. And the strong odour of fish in North Shields, stink of cattle feed outside Goole, sickly smell of plastics factory, oil newly-refined, makes you see even if youre blind. The only reason these days,that I ever get down on one knee,Is to view the World the way,that only a Bowler gets to see,Upon that velvet turf,looking down along the level green,Studying the Kittys spread,and where the Jack is on the scene.Will my final bowl be cunning,or just drive to win the end?I know Ill find theres Bowls in Heaven,so worry not my friend. So as we gather here today, To say our last goodbyes, We know that they will always beIn our hearts and in our minds. Just talk amongst yourself my friends,And share a toast or two.For I am sure you will remember wellHow I loved to drink with you. If the world were full of hippiesthered be nothing left to proveexcept peace and understandingand a little bit of groove, No-one would be homelessLike many live todayWed build beautiful communeswhere anyone could stay, Together wed make musicto the beat of mother earththered be no fighting or warEveryone sharing equal worth, Wed grow our own vegetables and create trinkets to sellWed open up our mindsbreak free from our shell, Every colour and every racewould teach one anotherwed become a united familyevery sister, every brother, Wed bless all gods creaturesshow respect for the landGive free hugs to everyoneopenminded to understand. Hey, you guys, dont feel guilty,It was just my time to go.I can see youre all feeling sad,I can see the tears still flow. Ive seen her use that apronTo wipe her dripping browAs she laboured over the big rangeThats just an antique now. In the end,only one gets to brag.The first to kiss,the checkered flag. And I would want to lead just right,And to know that I was true.So walk a little slower, Daddy,For I must follow you. We are connected, my child and I,by an invisible cord not seen by the eye.Its not like the cord that connects us at birththis cord cant be seen by any on earth. Wonderful gifts; each stitch made with loveA creative gift that was so easy to seeA jumper for this one, some scarves for themOr for a new baby a layette of three. 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. So tell me nowAnd tell me true.So I can sayIm here for you.. The sails are set,the wind is east, the moorings fret.Shadows long before me lie,beneath the ever-bending sky,but islands lie behind the Sunthat I shall raise ere all is done;lands there are to west of West,where night is quiet and sleep is rest. The world is always peaceful,As I sit and drink my tea.Im grateful for these simple moments,Of pure tranquility. Here are 10 stirring funeral readings, poems, and quotes for any service that can encourage family and friends: 1. There . 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. Its all about the journeyIts the part that countsEven when he gets thereHe may just turn around. So when you talk of family lifeOr how it used to beThough many had more moneyNone were as rich as me. You said to look to the night skiesFor there is no other love so resoluteThat the feelings we grow for others;They are never absolute. 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. Do Not Ask Me To Remember Owen Darnell A poem about how much dementia patients need their family.Mum Alison Howard A poem about dementia originally written for a mother that can be adjusted to any relation.That You Remember Me Daniel Mark Extrom A poem urging family to always remember their lost loved ones.You Have Dementia, That Is True anon A poem reflecting the challenges that come with dementia later in life.Walk With Me Norma McNamara An uplifting poem about staying positive in the face of dementia. I imagine you watchingThe many things I doProudly standing beside meAs I remember and honour you. Your email address will not be published. A troublemaker, a teacher, a friend. The funeral bell is ringing, a reminder of our mortality,Farewelling a deceased soul, one day twill ring for me.Ringing in the stillness of this cool Autumn day,Across the rural city, in the morning damp and grey. Poems for someone who had a full and successful life. I am a man who works with God,I cannot succeed without his help,For you see,Im just a farmerPlain and simple. The seats are saggy from long time use,The rear-views broken; whos driving this car? A good eye and a perfect stance. Goodbye, to you, with whom Ive shared,This wondrous gift of life.Enjoy the dance, lifes sweet refrain,For love is timeless as the stars,And I will dance with you again. The silence hung suspended:It was the last bowl of the day,And everything dependedOn our skipper yet to play.He gazed upon the verdant green His eyes were focused tightOn a sphere that could just be seen:The Kitty shining white. If we could just slow down enoughTo consider whats true and realAnd always try to understandThe way other people feel. Death is an inevitable fate.Someday we have to go.You hope you didyour best in life,but how are you to know? The fifth candle we light for hope: that you will live on through us, never be erased from our memory, that your life continues to make a difference in the world. 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. In his pastimes and sports he will try all the way,And, back to the wall, make his greatest display;He asks not for favours, but only fair play,For that is the badge of a Yorkshireman. Thanks If someone had to describe you, so many words come to mind.Beauty and grace, a heart so kind. and cricket pads. We are not members unfortunately. Grampa anon A short poem about a caring, loving, and very dear grandfather.Granddad Fiona Bourke A poem letting our grandad know that we will never stop loving them.A Grumpy Old Man Tony Jennett An amusing poem discussing all the traits of a typical grumpy old man.Goodbye, Grandad Sarah Harrison A goodbye to a grandfather who gave so much to his descendants.A Poem For My Granddad Dennis Taylor A sweet poem from a grandchild to a beloved grandfather. Im now at peace,Life battles done,Ive faced the foeAnd I have won. The water can be healing It always was for me Just take time to rememberAnd I think that you will see. Haiku I wrote whilst out at some live jazz back in October, when it was warm enough for crickets. *Replace Pemaquid Point with any relevant geographical location. Though the day was made for scaling,And the dusk gathers too soon,You and mellgono more a-climbingBy thelight of the moon. I pour the steaming liquid,Watching the tendrils of steamRise, as if they carry my thoughtsTo some distant, better place. Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of Chatham. 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. Or when Sol dips his crestNeath the glorious westAnd the sunlight congeals into darkWe will skim by the seaWe will shoot oer the leaWe will follow the meteors mark. A place of work where people doAs if about to do: concentratesThe readers face, lift up the lampTo look for something in the book, and turnThe page, and then read on and lift it upAgain. Unknown Life is simply a cricket match, with temptation as the bowler. And when he stood on his hands, his bodyCurled like a wave about to break,It was as if he had become a conduitFor the energy that lifted him, a lakeThrough which the light of motion passedAs if he were a lens that bentThe radiance of his own quickness. My big right hand, gloved and fisted, Feeling now, the throttle twisted, Crisp exhaust roar, sounding sweet, Drop the clutch, and hit the street, The revs rise sharply, grab next gear, Excitement tinged with hint of fear, Watch that tacho needle wind, All and sundry left behind. I Do Not Think My Song Will End Jonny Hathcock A poem about the deceased becoming one with nature.Look For Me In Rainbows Conn Bernard A call to remember the deceased through nature and happy memories. Dont judge me for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. 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? adapted from the original by Rudyard Kipling. Ring out the old, ring in the new,Ring, happy bells, across the snow:The year is going, let him go;Ring out the false, ring in the true. Day after day, week after weekSo many tales does she acquaintRemaining focused in the task at handBut with the patience of a saint. It's quite funny too. Charades: Always tempted to saythe answer and stop the nonsense. MORE THYME! If you can leave a warm and cosy fireside,When winter winds, nigh chill you to the bone,To feed and scrape at morning, night or noontide,Yet utter not a grumble or a groan.If you can stand for hours with teeth a chatter,When parted hens decide that they will roam.And smiling, say, It doesnt really matter,I only hope that they will all come home. Carry On Shauna Danskin A highly poetic piece which urges mourners to look forward with hope.Dear Friends I Go anon A call to look forward and stay positive in the face of death.Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep anon A popular poem to encourage mourners not to weep, but to look ahead.He Is Gone / She Is Gone David Harkins A poem urging mourners to have fond memories of the person theyve lost.I Am Always With You anon A verse reflecting upon the idea that our lost loved ones are always with us.One At Rest anon A call to think of the deceased as simply resting. Never to kill. Our lager, which art in barrels,Hallowed be Thy drink,Thy will be drunk, (I will be drunk),At home as I am in the tavern.Give us this day our foamy head,And forgive us our spillages,As we forgive those who spill against us,And lead us not to incarceration,But deliver us from hangovers,For thine is the beer, the bitter and the lager,Forever and ever,Barmen. The song captures the atmosphere of a village cricket match and is an elegy to the game as played during Harper's youth. Inner pages (if required) are printed on high quality 120gsm white bond. So darling please tend to the candle for meAnd nourish the flame lest it diesTill the day when its radiant beauty I seeAnd it guides me at last to your side. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. Children that I leave behind,And their children, all were kind;Near to them and to my wife,I was happy all my life. If I were there, Id tell you I have no more pain or strife,That I loved my friends and family, and I had a wonderful life.If I were there, Id tell you how I loved the small blue highways,I loved the curving mountain roads, and I loved to ride the back-road byways. The second candle represents the courage to confront our sorrow, to comfort each other, and to change our lives. So as we lay them down to restWell watch one final filmIn honour of their memoryAnd the love they had for them. Alone on my tin pony,to the heavens Ive been called,but fret not my dear loved ones,Im not lonely here at all. 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. I loved to be in the wind. And if theres an occasionTo mention who you knewSpeak kindly of that personAs one day it will be you. This isnt how it was supposed to be!The world carries on like nothing has happened, but not me. I do not think my song will endWhile flowers, grass and treesAbound with birds and butterfliesFor I am one with these. 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. Kayaking Mark Gregory A poem about the peace and calm that one experiences on the water.The Oarsmans Song Steve Fairbairn A rhythmic poem about the hypnotic motion of a rower in full flight.Rowing In Eden Mark Gregory A short but touching poem about two friends drifting towards heaven. Tiny Angel rest your wingsSit with me for awhile.How I long to hold your hand,And see your tender smile. You know right from wrong.You are the melody from a beautiful love song. Is there anyway we could carry out this request please if possible? I Juggle As I Go Mark Gregory A poem that mimics the rhythmic repetition of juggling, and, indeed, of life.The Juggler Richard Wilbur A poem that uses a juggler as ametaphorfor the kind of change one needs in life. It's a powerful memorial poem to celebrate someone who knew they were dying and lived life to its fullest up until their last breath. 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. 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. When I am gone, release me, let me go.I have so many things to see and do,You mustnt tie yourself to me with too many tears,But be thankful we had so many good years.I gave you my love, and you can only guessHow much youve given me in happiness.I thank you for the love that you have shown,But now it is time I travelled on alone.So grieve for me a while, if grieve you mustThen let your grief be comforted by trustThat it is only for a while that we must part,So treasure the memories within your heart.I wont be far away for life goes on.And if you need me, call and I will come.Though you cant see or touch me, I will be nearAnd if you listen with your heart, youll hearAll my love around you soft and clearAnd then, when you come this way alone,Ill greet you with a smile and a Welcome Home. I walk beside you, I am there all day longI am right here. Its all about expectingAnd then throwing inIts all about the winningBut not whining not giving-inThe square, the short and long ballThe pals, solid as a rockThe unexpected tackleSudden shock, You felt the roarAnd saw the lucky chipThe crossbar stopped the goalThat you were willing in, And in the endAt injury timeWhen you went deep and deeperYou didnt find the goalOr spot the sweeper. I can still hear you calling my name,then reality sets in and Im reminded my life will never be the same. Each angel was a fishermanWho had traded his poleFor golden wings and a game planAt Heavens Fishing Hole. Aroma of Yorks chocolate ten miles away, bread-baking and brewing downwind of Carlislemake me ready for dinner. 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. The first verse of Sir Henry Newbolt's 'Play the Game'? On the ashes of our Baseball Ground. My heart often pounding; Im going to burstCome on legs, keep going!I want to come first. The warm crowd faintly clapped, The other equipment needed is a solid leather wrapped ball, a bat (one per batsman.) I love a sunburnt country, a land of sweeping plains,Of ragged mountain ranges, of droughts and flooding rains.I love her far horizons, I love her jewel-sea,Her beauty and her terror- the wide brown land for me! The steps grew larger, the land less greatMy eyes more tired, my path less straightThe bells kept ringing, farther awayToo many to count, their sound now grey. Years were not easy, many downright hard, but your faith in God transcended,Put away your tools and sleep in peace. They help to capture the spirit of the person lost and express the feelings of the people left behind. 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! Poems for those who suffered from terminal illness in their final years. Jack the cricket was sneaking around in the dell. The first rose represents our grief.The pain of losing you is intense.It reminds us of the depth of our love for you. We miss him in his gardenDoing odd jobs here and there.We miss him at the tableWhen we see the empty chair.We miss him at the firesidewhen we gather round the blaze.We miss him, oh, we miss himIn a hundred different ways.When troubles came the familyWould always turn to him.He always had a cheery wordWhen things were looking grimAnd now hes gone we know he wouldntWant us to be sad But life can never be the sameWithout the Dear Old Dad. Go up the rocks and wait; flushed apple-trees. The driver sees it differently, with their car becomes a part,Take the road together, hit the road, with a single beating heart,The turbos rising wail, and the exhausts muscled, subtle growl,To the drivers ear, an orchestra, theres music in that howl. 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. Ive seen them win, lose and draw, rush by in charging blur, Neck and neck, nose to nose, to the photo we refer, The weight is right, the track is fair, the sun will always shine, As once more past the Judges, and I cross that Finish Line.

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