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. So, think about this long and hard.Are there things youd like to change?For you never know how much time is leftThat can still be rearranged. Gambling: a lie appliedto organized theft. Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,Silence the pianos and with muffled drumBring out the coffin, let the mourners come. But here is your race medalFrom me with all my heartYoull wear my gold at every stepAnd we will never be apart. We did so much togetherrode in carsshared our lovenear the campfireWith soft and tender armsTamed broken pasts. So from this moment, lets endeavourTo celebrate these worlds so clever;Well think of them, whenever, wherever:A legacy, to go on forever. )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! Your love of Gods soil has passed on to your kin; the stories flow like fine wine,Wash off your work boots in the puddle left by blessed rain one final time. Poems for petrol heads, or simply for those who enjoyed a Sunday drive. 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. All Internet links/videos/pictures in here ONLY, Optical equipment repair and refurbishment as a hobby. Use code HELLO54 when you join us as a print or digital member and your membership will be half price for the first year. For though from out our bourn of Time and PlaceThe flood may bear me far,I hope to see my Pilot face to faceWhen I have crossed the bar. 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. Poems for those who really enjoyed a cup of tea and the inner peace and warmth that it brought with it. Crickets Demi, Gods And Villains, by Rajnish Manga A Cricket Sang Good Luck, by Sandra Fowler, Hunter. We will see him in the summer rainHe will ride upon the windAnd when our path is beaten downhis memory will pick us up again. I know how much you wish Id stayedI feel so very blessedOf all the people to have in my worldI got the very best. You loved the roaring of the crowd,The rush of victory,You loved the sweat, the tears, the toil,The adrenaline, so sweet. Clean your rims, my friend! 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. So dance with me this eveningAbove the lands belowThe clouds provide our dance floorNeath the light of those we know. The free bird thinks of another breezeand the trade winds soft through the sighing treesand the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawnand he names the sky his own. 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. So fleeting is this thing called life, we journey toward its end,experiencing pieces of a puzzle we dont truly comprehend.The hues of our emotion paint a picture of our past,as we hurtle toward a destiny that is not meant to last.Youth a canvas all in white, not knowing what awaits,feel caresses of a brush that which we know as fate.Love so very true in reds, that beat within our heart,shadows black take form as hate, which tears the soul apart.Greens of joy and happiness, lush grass beyond compare,sadness, shrouded depths of blue, the waters of despair.Yellow screams of agony and pain which we endure.Guilt and shame are shades of grey, a torrential downpour.Earthy brown desires are that for which we lust,the loss of which comes with age, like chrome begins to rust.The image changing constantly as time plods slowly on,taking shape in many forms, as the twilight replaces dawn.We look into a mirror for the answers which we seek,but we find no consolation as our eyes grow dim and weak.The final touches on a painting created with much love,as we realise that the destination is the gallery above. I see now it was love, MumThat made you come whenever Id call,Your inexhaustible love, MumAnd I thank you for it all. The scent of the roast,The hiss of the brew,The warmth of the cup,It all reminds us of you. Well always rememberthat special smile,that caring heart,that warm embrace,you always gave us.You being therefor Grandma and usthrough good and bad times,no matter what.Well always rememberyou Grampa becausetherell never be another oneto replace you in our hearts,and the love we will alwayshave for you. adapted from the original by Rudyard Kipling. You filled our home with happinessand made our life complete.The time we had with youwas far too short, but oh so sweet. For the rock outwears the man,And cruel Time wears out the best,But memories were made upon those stones,Before you were laid to rest. The instruments played this salutationTo amusicianof note and much moreAt the end, everyone stamped their feetEncore, Encore, Encore! Then seek your job with thankfulness and work till further orders,If its only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden,You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden. Poems for Funerals and Memorial Services One does not leave a funeral in the same way that he has come. So Im off for a golfing holiday,Far away fromThe cares of town.And Ill strive each dayBetter golf to playtill my handicap comes down. Main Menu. Dedicated To Our Fallen Heroes Katharine Blohm A poem written for the Clearview Volunteer Fire Department.Fallen Rick Hoffman Jr. A lament to a fallen firefighter who served his community proudly.Fallen Brother anon A poem dedicated to a firefighter called Chuck that is apt for any fire man or woman.The Firefighters Last Call William Robbins A poem about the final act of a brave firefighter.A Firefighters Last Words Michael Ashby A rousing call to appreciate the lifes work of a firefighter.Heroes Gone anon A poem filled with sadness and pride from a fallen firefighter to his colleagues.To Be A Fireman Edward F. Crocker A short poem about the how being a firefighter is a noble calling. They move through threatening ghostsFeeling them cool as mistOn their brows. 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. Last Journey Timothy Coote A rhythmic poem ideal for someone who loved locomotives. One, two, three, four,Getting older now, cant take any more,Five, six, seven, eight,Model life is done, it was truly great. He held up a golden crown,as my darling mother looked on.He said in His gentle voice,I will now explain each one., The first gem, He said, is a Ruby,and its for endurance alone,for all the nights you waited upfor your children to come home., For all the nights by their bedside,you stayed till the fever went down.For nursing every little wound,I add this ruby to your crown., An emerald, Ill place by the ruby,for leading your child in the right way.For teaching them the lessons,That made them who they are today., For always being right there,through all lifes important events.I give you a sapphire stone,for the time and love you spent.. My lifes journey ended early,The path I chose was short.You all tried your best to change it,But in the end it was for me to sort. 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! Dear God, Please Take Care Of My Little Girl Terry Gouveia A religious poem asking God to take care of a child.Heartfelt Memories anon A poem highlighting the wonder and light that a daughter brought to our lives.My Tiny Butterfly Ann Lundrigan A poem about a mothers bond with her daughter, who has passed.Our Song Jodi M. Kucera A poem to be used for the loss of a daughter who has children of her own.The Twilight Hours Christine Bevington A poem about those late night hours when your thoughts carry you away. That would be the most meaningful of all. This upbeat tune was used as the theme for the BBC's Test Cricket Highlights for many years, making it popular funeral music for lifelong cricket fans. Your lines and curves and perfection of shapeTransport my soul and take hold of my gaze.Your lines of your chest oer shoulder and napeTransport my soul to see beauty and praise. 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! Poems for someone who had a full and successful life. Youve always made me happy,I hope you can truly see.Youre more than just an Uncle,youre also a great friend to me. But we cant complain, it is only a game.Right? The willowy sway of the hands awayAnd the water boiling aft,The elastic spring, the steely flingThat drives the flying craft. While working for Birmingham 2022 Commonwealth Games, I wrote a series of quintets - something of an ode for each sport at the Games. These pieces are all about the beauty of plants. You know Ill try to hold youeven when my arms cant graspJust to try to bring you comfortwhen your voice lets out a gaspThe feelings that we share herewill transcend just what we seeAnd my horse will still be waitingright beneath our favourite tree. She touched the hearts of everyone she knew.Letting her go was so hard to do.Her smile could brighten up the darkest room.I wish you didnt have to take her so soon. I am the wind in your hair, the sand in your toesButterfly kisses that you feel on your noseI am with you at sunrise and in the sunsetBut you cannot see me, its my one regret. Never to kill. And even though the price of time and consequences of agedenied his body its greatest love of life as wageit never quenched his firefighters soul of its wondrous and noble ragenor that intense need burning so deep in his heartto save each life and shelter from being another victory for a fires page. Alone on my tin pony,to the heavens Ive been called,but fret not my dear loved ones,Im not lonely here at all. 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. Addiction Took Another Soul Natasha Henry A sombre poem reflecting on the harm that addiction can cause.Its Me Jacqueline A. Grieve A poem read on behalf of deceased addict, which asks their loved ones for forgiveness.My Son Marie Antoinette A poem written for a mother as a message to her son, who lost the fight against addiction.Pray, Dont Find Fault Rama Muthukrishnan A poem urging people not to judge those who go through hard times. Richard. 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. Her knitting needles are now silentNot a sound more will they makeBut what a wonderful lesson [name] has left usTo give always more than you take. Poems for those who were keen on loosing an arrow from a bow. If we treat each other with respectAnd more often wear a smile,Remembering this special dashMight only last a little while. A good eye and a perfect stance. There were some lovely lines in the eulogy for Phillip Hughes.
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stránky oficiálního zástupce pro Českou a Slovenskou republiku
