That man would rock me off to sleep,Would wipe my tears when I did weep.He watched me go from crawl to walk,And smiled with pride when I learned to talk. We must dig in and get through to tea. If I brightened your path, then let it bea small contribution from my loved ones and me;now sadly I leave you and travel alonethrough a mystic veil to the great unknown,with such beautiful memoriesthat will forever bethe way that I hope youll remember me. 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. 6. Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of Chatham. 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! A golden heart stopped beatingHard-working hands put to restGod broke our hearts to prove to usHe only takes the best. Look sharp! The trials and tribulationsThe pain and stress we breatheDont exist where I am goingOnly happiness, I believe. Ourteam Which artelevenHallowedbethy gameOurmatch be wonTheirscorebenoneOn turf Aswe score at leastseven Give us today no card of redAnd forgiveusourlostpassesAswe forgivethoseWho lose passesagainstusLeadusnot intoretaliationAnd deliverusfrompenaltiesForthreeisthe kick offThepower and scorerForeverandeverFulltime! Oh! No grand schemes,They passed me by.I knew the brook,The hills, the sky. The Candle anon A simple poem equating a candle to a guiding light that will help us reunite with our loved ones. You know you are foreverbut its easy when were hereJust a hand away from holdingand a hug away from fearSo you have to make a promisethat your hope will never runAnd you know Ill always ride hereeven when my ridings done. t206 walter johnson portrait; family jealous of my success So I handed him my bottleAnd he drank down my last swallowThen he bummed a cigaretteAnd asked me for a lightAnd the night got deathly quietAnd his face lost all expressionSaid, If youre gonna play the game, boyYou gotta learn to play it right. One, two,Ill miss you,Three, four,Thats for sure. Cried and yelled at the moonand crushed nightmaresDrank together and helped each otherback to bed. Poems for people who had family at the centre of their lives. Fly, fly precious oneYour endless journey has begunTake your gentle happinessFar too beautiful for thisCross over to the other shoreThere is peace forevermoreBut hold this memry bittersweetUntil we meet. 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. He arrived, not quite finished off,as his brother said one night,and, I bet Gods feeling awfully sadthat he didnt get him right.. Long life to her for theres no other,to take the place of my dear mother. The Lego builder, with skill and care,Constructed worlds, beyond compare,With towers tall, and cities fair:A legacy, to last and share. But you can find many more. Based on real world data - you can't go wrong with these poems. I imagined you lifting your head, your arms,Loosening them, shedding skin and cells and boneTill you became all spirit, releasedInto the cairns, hills, the braes, barley,The sea lochs and the sea and at last,At least it seemed to me, you were free. They have outlivedtheir usefulness and cannot get warm and full.You talk to the clothes and explain that he is not coming back. No bails united the forlorn stumpsSince this wicket had fallen some days agoAnd as the bowler delivered to the lone batsmanThe hushed crowd willed a six to go. You are elegant and charming. I know well they powerIn each trying hourThou servant so faithful and trueWhen the swift rushing windIs left muttering behindAs thou sippest the sweet morning dew. 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! White wings will carry you and you will be flown. Go after your dreams.Be bold. Our father kept a garden.A garden of the heartHe planted all the good things,That gave our lives their start.He turned us to the sunshine,And encouraged us to dream;Fostering and nurturing the seeds of self-esteem.And when the winds and rain came, he protected us enoughBut not too much because he knewWe would stand up strong and tough.His constant good example,Always taught us right from wrong, markers for our pathway,to last a lifetime long.We are our fathers garden,We are his legacyAnd I hope today he feels the loveReflected back from me. Daughter, life is not the samenow youre no longer here,but our love for you is still strongand will remain year after year. I have been on the razzle-dazzleFull many a time since then;But I never could get the chemistTo brew that drink again.He says hes forgotten the notion Twas only by chance it came Hes tried me with various liquidsBut oh! Now he lives onhaving answered that resounding heavenly bellappearing at last in the Lords eternal firehouse where firemen dwell,standing as he had done in this life so proud and talljoyously and willingly responding when he finally heardthe firefighters last call. extract from The Tempest by William Shakespeare. Beer Is Just Fine - Roy Pett - A humorous verse deliberating over the wonders of beer. "And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. Your ship is anchored in Gods Harbour.And your ship mates, now of equal rank.Are mustered on the deck to greet.And Pipe as you ascend the Plank. 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. 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. 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. Oh, on his toe the table is turning, the broomsBalancing up on his nose, and the plate whirlsOn the tip of the broom! Sometimes your steps are very fast,Sometimes theyre hard to see,So walk a little slower Daddy,For you are leading me. I pray that once Ive donned my padsAnd walked out to the square,That none of my nicks find a palm,And that I score my share. Though your heart wont let the sadnessSimply slide awayThe echoes will diminishEven though the memories stay. They once built an house with an extension on the side;It was that badly built that no one could reside.He had a young apprentice who soon became his hoddie,he never let him lay the bricks because his work was always shoddy. Lay lady lay, in crimson and cloverIts been a hard days night, the partys over. These our actors,As I foretold you, were all spirits andAre melted into air, into thin air:And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,The cloud-cappd towers, the gorgeous palaces,The solemn temples, the great globe itself,Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolveAnd, like this insubstantial pageant faded,Leave not a rack behind. originally titled What Is Dying? by Rev. I hope I touched your lives one day,and left a treasured mark,now Ill ride on to forever,with your memory in my heart. All these visions give me hopeThat death is not the endThat an eternity awaits usThat together we will spend. O precious, tiny, sweet little oneYou will always be to me.So perfect, pure, and innocentJust as you were meant to be. Poems reflecting the skill and handiwork of bricklayers and builders. As you played and sharedAnd helped and taughtThe laughter and love always shone through. I am a martial artist. His bricks though were not just forged in fire,His family were his foundation and his desireThe mortar was his love, his caring, his skillHe loved you all dearly, and loves you all still. And left in sepulchres of stoneThe dead He buried there.But they are not dry bones alone;I see them as they were. Id like to encourage you all to remember my game,And maybe keep my photo or my top score in a frame.And when your own ball reaches the end of the lane,Id like to hope Id see you in the afterlife again. The song captures the atmosphere of a village cricket match and is an elegy to the game as played during Harper's youth. I may not even be who you think I am,or even who you want me to be.You wish for me to be more like you,Why cant you be more like me? And then the justice,In fair round belly with good capon lind,With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part. If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelids soundless blink,The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alightUpon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think,To him this must have been a familiar sight., If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm,When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn,One may say, He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm,But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.. document.getElementById( "ak_js_1" ).setAttribute( "value", ( new Date() ).getTime() ); Scattering Ashes UK The Chapel 11 Seale Hayne Newton Abbot Devon TQ12 6NQ Email: info@scattering-ashes.co.uk Tel: 01626 798198. And sometimes glanced at the play, Remember with every stitchAnd every knot tiedLook how youve all grownTogether where we call home. In this lonely place, beside a spring,I brew my tea and dream.The green leaves dance and whisper secretsIn the quiet afternoon sun. Post author: Post published: June 8, 2022; Post category: what happened after mao zedong died; Post comments: . Cricket Poems - Modern Award-winning Cricket Poetry : All Poetry Poems / Cricket Poems - The best poetry on the web anolderambler Follow Nov '22 Cricket T20 sun-soaked, in a blaze of glory bowlers marauding torn grass blades ball-ridden lost amidst an everlong green morning IM driving this thing, and this car is ME,And its all worn out, but I made it work. I wish I could give you many more years.I wish I could erase away all of your tears. Wine comes in at the mouthAnd love comes in at the eye;Thats all we shall know for truthBefore we grow old and die.I lift the glass to my mouth,I look at you, and I sigh. by only me is your doing, my darling) I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant. To the living, I am gone, To the sorrowful, I will never return, To the angry, I was cheated, But to the happy, I am at peace, And to the faithful, I have never left. He moved with such a sense of easeThat you could almost see the lightThat shone within him, the joy he feltIn his own lightness and the flightThat lifted him above the ground. Dont cry for me, please dont be sadHold on to the memories of the times we both hadDont dwell on dark thoughts, hold on tight to your wishesSending you hugs and butterfly kisses. When great trees fall,rocks on distant hills shudder,lions hunker downin tall grasses,and even elephantslumber after safety. by | Jul 10, 2021 | opentimeclock 2004 login | list of navy reserve units | Jul 10, 2021 | opentimeclock 2004 login | list of navy reserve units 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. It broke our hearts to lose you,But you didnt go alone,For part of us went with youThe day God called you home. Green sod above, Lie light, lie light. Triumphantly their bodies sing,Their eyes are blindWith music. I will watch over you from heaven aboveForever you will be a dear and true loveHold on to your dreams and all of your wishesSending you hugs and butterfly kisses. Do not go gentle into that good night, I pray the umpire knows his job,And doesnt lift his finger.But if he does I pledge to you:Ill not forlornly linger. You always brought the sunshineand you brightened up our world,spreading happiness and kindnesssince you were a little girl. The rays of light filtered throughThe sentinels of trees this morning.I sat in the garden and contemplated.The serenity and beautyOf my feelings and surroundingsCompletely captivated me. Villanelle Of Spring BellsBells in the town alight with springconverse, with a concordance of new airsmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. June 14, 2022; jeep renegade 4x4 usata francoforte sul meno; astrological predictions for trump 2022 . These will be suitable for memorial services as well as funeral readings. Butterflies From Heaven anon A poem about what it might mean when a butterfly comes to you.Butterfly Kisses John F. Connor A poem which equates the butterfly to the spirit of those who have left us behind.Little Butterfly Amy Farquhar A poem for a person who lived their life cocooned within the love of their friends.On A Butterflys Wings Jim Howard A short, slightly religious poem about the journey to the next life.While Waiting For Thee anon A beautiful, brief verse about the soul of the departed dancing in the air around us. A Legacy of Stitches is what we leave behind;the imprint of our very soul that lasts beyond our time.The heart that quilts knows, oh, so well the peace that can be found,as needle meets with fabric, for there is no sweeter sound.Whether quiet piecing done by hand or on our sewing machine,theres rhythm to our stitches as we sew along each seam.Those stitches tell the story of our lives as they unfoldas we think of quilts that Grandma made with stories left untold.The humdrum of our daily lives grows elegant and grand,when we start to cut the pieces, then stitch the fabric in our hands.And whatever is the reason for the quilts we piece and sew,and whoever is the maker, there is one thing that we know.Each quilt is full of memories and is a treasured thing.If quilts could talk, imagine how some quilts would surely sing!For some quilts are sewn in happy times and others when were sad,and some are sewn in laughter and others when were mad.Some are sewn to warm us, and some sewn just for fun,and some are works in progress that never quite get done!Some quilts are sewn for beauty, a quilt made just for show,but the heart of the true quilter is the one who really knows That no matter how the quilt is stitched, we leave our mark in time.This Legacy of Stitches is what we leave behind. If you can scan the skies in dreary weather,And do not feel downhearted when you say,Its dark now, and I havent got a feather,Yet you know that there are several on the day.If you can spare a handful for a stray one,And room at night to rest its weary frame.Count not the cost of what it eats, begrudge none,But hope someone will treat yours just the same. Of round . Humour is an essential part of life, so why not of death. BINGO, I shout, its my timeI finally got to complete that line! Youve got to know when to hold emKnow when to fold emKnow when to walk awayAnd know when to runYou never count your moneyWhen youre sittin at the tableTherell be time enough for countinWhen the dealins done. When I come to the end of my journeyand I travel my last weary mile,just forget, if you can, that I ever frownedand remember only the smile.Forget unkind words I have spoken;remember some good I have done.Forget that I ever had heartache,And remember Ive had loads of fun.Forget that Ive stumbled and blunderedand sometimes fell by the way.Remember I have fought some hard battlesand won, ere the close of the day.Then forget to grieve for my going;I would not have you sad for a day,but in summer just gather some flowersand remember the place where I lay,and come in the shade of the eveningwhen the sun paints the sky in the west.Stand for a few moments beside meand remember only my best. BUY NOW PAY LATER with Klarna, available at checkout. Everything Mum Joanna Fuchs A poem for a mum who somehow managed to do everything.Mother anon A verse reflecting upon a loving and devoted mother. Feel no guilt in laughter, theyd know how much you care.Feel no sorrow in a smile that they are not here to share.You cannot grieve forever; they would not want you to.Theyd hope that you could live your life the way you always do.So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared,the days you spent together, all the happiness you shared.Let memories surround you, a word someone may saywill suddenly recapture a time, an hour or a day,that brings them back as clearly as though they were still here,and fills you with the feeling that they are always near.For if you keep those moments, you will never be apartand they will live forever locked safely within your heart. For they existed. "Warm Summer Sun" by Walt Whitman. Sown in the earth by skillful handsBrought forth by sun and storm,Destined for a harvest dayFulfilled when ripe grain forms. Closer, the bowlers arm swept down, With every punch and every hitIt demonstrates its strength and skillIts resilience, its steel and gritIts honour, courage, and will. Hauskat Meemit. Poems for petrol heads, or simply for those who enjoyed a Sunday drive. Achievement and SuccessActingAddictionAlcoholAlzheimersAnimalsArcheryArtistsAstronomyAthleticsAuntsBabies and ChildrenBartendingThe BeachBell RingingBingoBirdsBoard GamesBoats and SailingBooksBowlsBoxingBricklayingBrothersButterfliesCalmnessCamping and CaravanningCandlesCars and DrivingCardsCarpentryCavingClimbingClocksCoffeeCookingThe CountrysideCricketCrosswordsCyclingDanceDartsDaughtersDementiaDisabilityDivingFamilyFarmingFashionFathersFilmsFirefightingFishingFlagsFlowersFootballFossilsFriendsGardeningGolfGrandfathersGrandmothersGymnasticsHairdressingHippiesHorse RacingImperfectionJewelleryJugglingKnittingLaughterLegoMartial ArtsMemoriesMothersMotorcyclingMusicNaturePositivityRowingSelflessnessSpousesTeaTen-Pin BowlingTerminal IllnessTrainsUnclesYorkshire. 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. Bike like a rocket each sprocket fits its socket with well oiled smoothness of clockwork. I am a martial artist. I pray the Captain sets his fieldWith telepathic skill,That all his plans work wellAnd that the catches do not spill. I seek the West,and fields and mountains ever blest. Theres a picture I cant look away fromWith simplicity of your innocence.Theres a picture of what love can becomeWith simplicity, strength and elegance. Members of the Club stand post,Proud brothers in the wind;Shaded eyes the tears disguise,And loss they feel within. They took away my freedom,They took away my choice,And when they got their hooks in,You could hear it in my voice. All Internet links/videos/pictures in here ONLY, Optical equipment repair and refurbishment as a hobby. To lose ones wealth is sad indeed,To lose ones health is more,To lose ones soul is such a lossThat no man can restore. Better Drowned than Duffers.If Not Duffers, Won't Drown. 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. The Dash Linda Ellis A verse pondering on making the most of the years between birth and death.If Rudyard Kipling Kiplings famous poem about what it means to be a man.A Life Well Lived anon A poem for someone who lived life to its fullest.Man In The Mirror Dale Wimbrow A reflective piece suggesting the most important opinion of you is your own.A Song Of Living Amelia Josephine Burr A verse which suggests loving life and living it fully leads to no regrets.Success Bessie Anderson Stanley A reflection upon what it means to be successful in life.Successful Life Eugene Grinman A poem pondering over what it means to have lived a successful life.The Time Is Now Bettina Van Vaerenbergh A poem encouraging us all to live well, and live in the now.When Great Trees Fall Maya Angelou A poem in free verse about how we feel when great people die. Dear God, please take care of my little girl,The one with big eyes and soft brown curls.She was special, as you should know.I really didnt want to let her go. For this one farmer the worries are over, lie down and rest your head,Your time has been and struggles enough, put the tractor in the shed. Aroma of Yorks chocolate ten miles away, bread-baking and brewing downwind of Carlislemake me ready for dinner. Its anyone youve ever lovedwho mourns you in the end. A broad demographic, some salt of the earthWho with them they bring passion, character and worthThe owners, the trainers, the jockeys, the stridethe horses, the strappers, the dreams and the pride. SURLY was the crossword clue,I gave a sideways stare;my hubby gave a stifled coughand looked into the air. Michael Ashby A fun, slightly religious poem with plenty of bingo terminology within.Numbers Up Rebecca Spilsbury A wonderfully moving poem urging the bereaved to live on proudly.Prayer For Bingo Players Bob Barci A fun prayer asking for the perfect conditions for a bingo night.Twenty-Four Numbers anon A poem about the joys of bingo. Develop your talents;They are unique.Use your time well;Listen only to positive critique. He wanted someone to hold usAnd show respect for others.He wanted someone whod be gentle,So he created mothers. 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. Tell me, what does it look like in heaven?Is it peaceful? 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. Still, I will hold onto the memories we sharedover a cup of joe,and I will always cherishthe warmth of your loveinvigorating,comforting,and with every memoryI will feel more alive. He put his arms around youAnd lifted you to rest.Gods garden must be beautiful,He always takes the best. The seats are saggy from long time use,The rear-views broken; whos driving this car? 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. Musically, perhaps a bit sentimental, "When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease" by Roy Harper. We have but a short timeOn this earth,So value your lifeFor what its really worth. I dont know where wed be today,If it werent for the two of you.To show us strength, support, and love,Like only the two of you can do. You left this life so quicklyand I am left to mourn Yet precious memories fill my heartsince the day that you were born. I shall remain in hearts and mindsOf loved ones that I knew,And in the rocks and hills and streamsBecause I love those, too. Give my spare parts so some young buckMay make a start upon the roadTake the pannier of lifeAnd balance carefully his load. The Sadness Of Clothes Emily Fragos A poem about the sad things clothes might feel when their owner dies.A True Fashionista Mark Gregory A short poem highlighting how the deceaseds beauty will live on after death. Sowellgono more a-climbingSolate into the night,Though the will be neer unyielding,And the urge be still as bright. MORE THYME! The draping, it is perfectNo wrinkles will you seeA symbol of a nationA reminder that were free. The bodys anatomy and physiology, the minds psychology must be knownBy a fighter in order for the perfect execution of a technique to be shownMartial arts is a pursue of knowledge, many things that one must learn,So the hidden swirling potential within gets drawn out to burn. Dont judge me, for I am just like you.I can feel, I can love, and I can cry too. One, two, three, four,This is the life that I adore,Five, six, seven, eight,To the end of the stage, and there I wait. MORE THYME! One more day to sing our song, Close To You,and listen to you sing it to your son too. 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. Some travel afar, others stay nearbySome pedal fast, some slowBut in common with the lot of usIs the desire to just go. I hope that you will be thereTo wish me on my wayIts not a journey you can join inIts not your time today. 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. The Travelers Rest always welcomes departeddrinkersWith a warm smile and a kindly nodYoull never have to put your hand in your pocket againBecause this really is a free house, thank God. The other equipment needed is a solid leather wrapped ball, a bat (one per batsman.) When the long, dark night is overAnd heaven begins its reignI promise you my darlingI will see you again. Together were in this relationship,We built it with care to last the whole trip,Our true destinations not marked on any charts;Were navigating to the shores of the heart. The sky became your deep blue seaThe clouds became your shoreAnd there, for all eternityYou sat with friends galore. Poems for those who grew up in the age of flower power and truly embraced it. But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreamshis shadow shouts on a nightmare screamhis wings are clipped and his feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing. One day you will all forgive meOne day you will understandAnd when your time on earth is doneI will be waiting to take your hand. 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. The boxer stands with his gloves at the readyHis gait sure and steadyHis eyes aware and to the foreHis mind on the bout and nothing more, But deep within, and on his face writtenAre the many scars of a life hard-bittenAnd while neer shy of a hard-fought fightThere is no longer within the feeling of delight, His face has too oft been made to payBy an opponent better on the dayAnd though within beats the heart of a lionHis poor pummelled body has given up tryin, And while a fighter to his very coreJust the smell of gloves now he does abhorYet, still he stands, eyes puffed and blood galoreStill ready to wage a pugilists war. But now that you are sleeping,And your mind is finally free:I pray one day, now youre at rest,That youll finally remember me. 3. Rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, and birdsDogs, and cats, and everything furredAn interest in creatures in others he stirredAnd through illness, he went on, undeterred. The Boxer Ross Dix-Peek A poem telling the tale of a physicially worn-out boxer whose mind is still sharp and agile.I Am The Greatest Cassius Clay Muhammed Alis famous poem from the 1960s.Poem for a Boxer At Rest Gabrielle Tinti A poem originally in Italian about a boxer who has fought his last fight. The board is your target, not the mat,So, be careful what youre aiming at! Haiku I wrote whilst out at some live jazz back in October, when it was warm enough for crickets. But I was patient and not het upEyes looking down, ears pricked like a pupId calmly wait to hear the callThe call that says this is the ball. 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. The memoriesI have throughoutThe yearsWill lastforever withLaughter and tears. 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. You were the jewel in our heartsYou were loved in every way.Now youre gone, youre truly missedeach and every day. They smoked, and talked of stocks and shares,
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