Finally we sit and roll a dice,Watching each roll like hungry mice,Bobby always seems to have too much loot,And we wonder if there is some hidden in a boot;Jenny just cant get a breakand will be in gaol for three rolls sake;Uncle Ron just sits with a grin, and we wonder what is his sin;Dad just tries to moderate, But Aunt Sue is truly irate!The kids all laugh, its just a gameIts family time: will we remain sane? In my hand I hold a ball.White and dimpled, rather small.Oh, how bland it does appear.This harmless looking little sphere.By its size I could not guess,The awesome strength it does possess.But since I fell beneath its spell,Ive wandered through the fires of hell.My life has not been quite the same,Since i chose to play this stupid game.It rules my mind for hours on end,A fortune it has made me spend.It has made me yell, curse and sigh,I hate myself and want to cry.It promises a thing called par,If i can hit it straight and far.To master such a tiny ball,Should not be very hard at all.But my desires the ball refuses,And does exactly as it chooses.It hooks and slices, dribbles and dies,And even disappears before my eyes.Often it will have a whim,To hit a tree or take a swim.With miles of grass on which to land,It finds a tiny patch of sand.Then has me offering up my soul,If only it would find the hole.Its made me whimper like a pup,And swear that I will give it up.And take to drink to ease my sorrow,But the ball knows: Ill be backTomorrow. A Fantastic Football Fan Anthea Ballam A poem perfect for a huge fan of the beautiful game.The Footballers Prayer Paul Cookson An adaptation of the Lords Prayer, but football themed!The Goalie With Expanding Hands Paul Cookson A poem fitting most of all for an excellent goalkeeper.The Passing Of A Footballer Michael Ashby A poem comparing heaven to a football squad.You Loved The Game Mark Gregory A poem for someone who spent their career wowing fans on the pitch. Smart lad, to slip betimes awayFrom fields where glory does not stay,And early though the laurel growsIt withers quicker than the rose. You are loved so much. " When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease " is a track on the Roy Harper album HQ, a prominent example of cricket poetry. write me in historymove over King Tutyou aint got nothingon the legitimate King! Requiem by Robert Louis Stevenson This is a beautiful poem for dad's funeral. These are my footprints, so perfect and so small.These tiny footprints, never touched the ground at all.Not one tiny footprint, for now I have my wings.These tiny footprints were meant for other things.You will hear my tiny footprints, in the patter of the rain.Gentle drops like angels tears, of joy and not from pain.You will see my tiny footprints, in each butterflies lazy dance.Ill let you know Im with you, if you give me just a chance.You will see my tiny footprints, in the rustle of the leaves.I will whisper names into the wind, and call each one that grieves.Most of all, these tiny footprints, are found in mummys heart,cause even though Im gone now, well never truly part. How lucky I was,How blessed Ive been,You were more than my Aunt,You were also my friend. She dances on the balance beam,So light, so free, so full of grace,Her body moves with effortless ease,In this, her chosen place. "Death Is Nothing At All" by Robert Scott Holland. Over'? Good Afternoon, My father has recently passed and I would like to scatter his ashes at Lords.He was a lover of attending Lords and had many happy days there. Could you sit and rock her and read her a story?Shes probably afraid; please tell her dont worry.Tell her mommy loves her and wishes she could be here,But it wont be for many more years. Closer, the bowler's arm swept down, The ball swung, swerved and darted, Stump and bail flashed and flew; The batsman pensively departed. The other bingo players follow you with their eyes,As you happily claim that winning prize,Just the thought of bingo and the chance to win,Makes you smile one great big bingo grin! I hear the call.The ships beside the stony wall.Foam is white and waves are grey;beyond the sunset leads my way.Foam is salt, the wind is free;I hear the rising of the Sea. Nature Poems for Funerals - Funeral Choice (For darts is not a game of chance!). Pray dont find fault with the man who limpsor stumbles along the road,unless you have worn the shoes he wearsor struggled beneath his load.There may be tacks in his shoes that hurt,though hidden away from view,or the burden he bears, placed on your backmight cause you to stumble too.Dont sneer at the man whos down todayunless you have felt the blowthat caused his fall or felt the shamethat only the fallen know.You may be strong, but still the blowsthat were his if dealt to you,in the selfsame way, at the selfsame time,might cause you to stagger too.Dont be too harsh with the man who sinsor pelt him with word or stone,unless you are sure, yea, doubly sure,that you have no sins of your ownfor you know perhaps if the tempters voiceshould whisper as softly to youas it did to him when he went astray,it might cause you to stumble too. The Bowlers Prayer anon A prayer asking for help from God to ensure the bowled ball lands near the Jack.A Crown Green Bowlers Prayer P. Helliwell A verse imploring the Lord to ensure there are games of bowls in heaven.My Last End Graeme Cook A lovely, short poem inspired by memorable games upon that velvet turf.Unbiased Bowls J.J. Hasson A light-hearted poem discussing the bias of bowls and perhaps also of life. The archer and his bow:Take aim and let the arrow fly,It hits, fast as lightning A perfect bulls-eye. With every stroke, I feel so freeAs I glide across the wavesThe world and its worries, I can seeDrifting away in a haze. He had a keen eye, a quick hand and a skillTo work manually with strength and effort and willHis hard work inspired and was in demand,not just near home but across the land. This second rose represents our courage.To confront our sorrow,To comfort each other,To change our lives. Sweetheart, I love youBut I cannot bind you to meI see the longing in your eyeswhile you are watching these mountainsthose sunsets. 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. When he put them all together,He was amazed at what hed done.He had created a family,Mother, father, daughter, son. 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. 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. 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. A ball will bounce; but less and less. Remember me as I used to be.Think of me; remember my smile,The love we shared; linger awhile.I am at peace now, I am me.At rest for all eternity. crunch! Below are the all-time best Rugby poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. Her flowers still bloom, and the sun it still shines,But the rain is like tear drops for the ones left behind,The weeds lay waiting to take the gardens beauty away,But the beautiful memories of its keeper are in our hearts to stay.She loved every flower, even some that were weeds.So much love she would plant with each little seed,But just like her flowers, she was part of Gods plan.So when it was her time, he reached down his hand.He looked through the garden, searching for the best.Thats when he found her; it was her time to rest.It was hard for those who loved her to just let her go,But God had a spot in his garden that needed a gentle soul,So when you start missing her, remember if you just wait,When God has a spot in his garden, shell meet you at the gate. But all the feelings that are nowSo vivid and so realCant hold their fresh intensityAs time begins to heal. 30 Beautiful Funeral Poems To Read At A Memorial Service Well take the time togetherTo catch up on the pastTo build a new beginningOne that will always last. As long as they hold true,the night cannot win. 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. With each brand new discovery, Im always quite astounded,The history of life on Earth is gloriously unboundedFrom dinosaurs to shells and plants, theres always something more,Fossils are simply priceless treasures I cant help but adore. For the field is full of shades as I near the shadowy coast, And a ghostly batsman plays to the bowling of a ghost, And I look through my tears . 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? So dry your tears and smile a smileYou arent alone, you seeYou have this special blanketIts my love, a part of me. MORE THYME! Too soon he left to travelBeyond where we can seeBut its all about the journeyForever riding free. I am a man who works with God,I cannot succeed without his help,For you see,Im just a farmerPlain and simple. They are too far away for us to touch, just as [s]he has gone somewhere we cannot follow until our own star-time comes.The stars cannot be held close for comfort, just as we can no longer hold him/her close but the stars will burn forever.One day, our own star-time will come, and our spirit will soar into the sky to burn with all those lovely family and friends who have gone before us.On the inky cloth of space, we will be reunited in constellations of joy.Until then, our own flame burns low and dim and cold without you. The curtain has come downOn the performance of a lifetime:But as the show must go onWe stage unrehearsed lines. Poems for those who shared a passion for rowing, canoeing, kayaking, and other oar-based water sports. When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. The warriors spirit never diesIt lives on in every fightIn every motion, every strideIt shines with power and might. Alzheimers Dick Underwood A touching poem about how Alzheimers often takes away the mind before the body.I Am At Peace Jennifer Alderton A short verse accepting the peace and freedom that comes with death after illness.The Long Goodbye Ellen Miller A verse reminding us that the person we have lost was not defined by their disease.Those Hands That Once Held Mine Dean Harrison A beautiful verse for a son about his mother and her Alzheimers.Two Mothers Remembered Joann Snow Duncanson Remembering a mother who changed due to illness. All the times when your heart shined throughare the greatest memories I have of you.
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