You have dementia, that is true,But that wont stop me loving you.Each day brings another chore,Usually worse than the one before. This is the legend of Cassius Clay,The most beautiful fighter in the world today.He talks a great deal, and brags indeedyOf a muscular punch thats incredibly speedy.This brash young boxer is something to seeAnd the heavyweight championship is his destiny. Their quiet heart, a guiding light,That shone in darkness, pure and bright,A gentle voice, a calming breeze,That whispered peace, and brought us ease. The laughter and loveIt always shone through. Trees by Joyce Kilmer. When he put them all together,He was amazed at what hed done.He had created a family,Mother, father, daughter, son. So I praise this car and its wobbly ride And Im gosh darn grateful that Im still inside. Pirouette, PirouetteDancers silhouettePracticing at duskDedication is a must. As you played and sharedAnd helped and taughtThe laughter and love always shone through. When a butterfly come to you, Ive been told,That its from someone in heaven, a past soul.If you keep a look out, if you open your heart,The things that were ordinary will now stand apart.I think if we look, read between the lines,You will find clues and you will find signs,That your loved one isnt past, not really, not gone,That they are not here, that they have just moved on.It is said that there is not death, just life and transitions,From the teachings of Buddha to the beliefs of the Christians.So from my heart, from my hope and belief,May you find many butterflies to assist with your grief. Beer Is Just Fine - Roy Pett - A humorous verse deliberating over the wonders of beer. You always believed that the good Lord would provide and He always had somehow,Take off your gloves and put them down, no more sweat and worry for you now. I have met him away from his own native dales,In cities and lands where strange language prevails;Yet a breath of his county he always exhales,and thus you will know hes a Yorkshireman. Then at the very endWhen they were on their kneesYou still walked tallAnd like your matesYou claimed to take it allThe penalty and the strike,your wayThe win that set your heart aflameThe game, the pitch, the offside ruleThe love that took your heartYour final match at home your ball. Yet my love of cricket was hereditary. If theyd only see the truth, In this masquerade of youth, A parents job would be one of far less stress, But they crave the grog and smokes, Hang around with the wrong blokes, And dont ever dare advise them how to dress. Richard. MORE THYME! Farewell, friends! And then I thought, I am a partof all this, and I felta great happiness,and I opened the book againand began to read. "All is Well" by Henry Scott Holland. 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. Im climbing a mountainI stop just to gaze at the view,So clear the horizonLike my every dream has come true. Hauskat Meemit. 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. For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all;The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks:The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks. He employed an incompetent plumber who always gave him the pip, Every job he went on he always left a drip.He was a good Brickie I would say he was first class but when it came to his team, they were just total Arse! And so I have a gift for you,My love, in the form of a roseIll hold it to my lipsAnd whisper my loving prose. Capitulation anon A poem about the highs and lows of bridge, and always being on the verge of quitting.The Gambler Kenny Rogers The lyrics to Rogers infamous song about the train ride with the gambler.A Keen Bridge Player Simon Lucas A humorous limerick about forgetting to remove the jokers! Id like to accept that while I stumbled and spluttered,I never strayed so far as to end up in the gutter.Id like to come to terms with all the times I slipped and fouled,But always got back up again: of this I am quite proud. They are not the same. The wind whispers secrets to meAs I paddle under the open skyAnd the beauty of nature, I can seeIn the sunsets and the birds that fly. We little knew that morning,God was going to call your name.In life we loved your dearly,In death we do the same. Heaven has received another angel,The night sky another star.Your life has become a loving memory.I know you will never be far. Crickets Poems - Modern Award-winning Crickets Poetry : All Poetry Poems / Crickets Poems - The best poetry on the web Flowermuse Follow Feb 14 Haiga 2-14-23B Feb 14, Stan Rodriguez haiga---haiga---springs color crickets Like ( 2) 2 The Lady of Perelen Follow Feb 2 Natural jazz Saxophone grooving with A twilight metronome 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. The times you saved a structure, a lifeor doing the unthinkable, you were there. Your memory will not fade awayTo muted tones of black and white. When you hold this blanket in your armsAnd close your eyes real tightYou can feel the love I tucked insideWhen I made this late one night. The lowest of them all is Ace,but sometimes hes on top aboveand thats the moral of this verse:dont give up the game of love. Never to kill. Look for the brightest colours,sun sparkling on the lake, the sea,or turning rain dropsinto daily diamonds. Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;Chrome and coffee polished offAs bike and rider wake. This bond that even death cant breakwill keep you here close by But I feel such pain and miss youmy Tiny Butterfly. For in the real scheme of things,Your illness wasnt long.Compared to all the happiness,You brought your whole life long. This kid fights great. Cave of wonderscaverns so deepthrough vast rooms I wanderso many secrets to keep. Sweetheart, I love youBut I cannot bind you to meI see the longing in your eyeswhile you are watching these mountainsthose sunsets. Im all the jobs rolled into one:Host, therapist, friend.I give the people what they want;Im basically a godsend. There is a train at the stationWith a seat reserved just for meIm excited about its destinationAs Ive heard it sets you free. So please bear with us, dear audienceAnd act your part as well:We salute a thespian titanWho had such a good life to tell. The board is your target, not the mat,So, be careful what youre aiming at! Only for those of a special breed,Living a dream, a chance to succeed,Yesterdays hopes and desires coming true,Making your mark with records anew,Proving hard work and the daily grind,Instructing the body, conditioning the mindCan capture a medal for the whole world to see, withGlamour and Pride for your country.As you stand aloft and your flag is flown high, theresMemories forever, and a tear in your eye,Enjoying the moment, the admiring looks,Securing your name in the history books. One, two, three, four,Getting older now, cant take any more,Five, six, seven, eight,Model life is done, it was truly great. Darts David E. Navarro A short verse about the trivial nature of darts compared to much of lifes pleasures.The Eight-Foot Mark Noel E. Williamson Some advice in rhyme about the game of darts and also life.Take It Easy Noel E. Williamson Some more advice from Williamson on darts and life. For they existed. Poems for those people who enjoyed collecting fossils, or, indeed, were amateur or professional palaeontologists. On the ashes of our Baseball Ground. 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. Youve also got some sweeties.Isnt Nana kind?I may have stolen one or two,But I knew you wouldnt mind. She wore from ears, from nose, from lips, The ones that are on show, And she wore a heap in other places, But there I will not go. 6. 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. 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. Poems reflecting a passion for spending nights under the stars. 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. My memories are what I have left,and a lesson I will not forget. 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.. " When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease " is a track on the Roy Harper album HQ, a prominent example of cricket poetry. You know Ill always ride hereeven when my ridings doneIn the whisper of the pre-dawnor the final burst of sunAt the corners of transitionwhere the changes are obscuredI will ride and if you see meits because our love has endured. A troublemaker, a teacher, a friend. There is no necessity for funerals to be just solemn occasions devoid of smiling and laughter. So dry your tears and smile a smileYou arent alone, you seeYou have this special blanketIts my love, a part of me. In the end,only one gets to brag.The first to kiss,the checkered flag. The topic Cricket themed reading for Dads funeral is closed to new replies. 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. One, two,Ill miss you,Three, four,Thats for sure. We think about the fleeting yearsToo quickly, gone for goodIt seems like only yesterday;We would go back if we could. or hanging inside the dark closet. The magical sound of leather on willowThe sweet smell of freshly cut grassThecricketer crossing the last boundaryTo a third innings that would forever last. 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. Its fun and its laughterIts planning and strategyBut most of all, its you and me.We laugh, we cheer, we argue a few,but this is a memory made anew. Would you volunteer to be Captain, Lord?To ensure there is fair play?For if you draw the cards, and measure,I hope to play for you someday. Words have that kind of poweryou remind the clothes that remain in the drawer, arms stubbornlyfolded across the chest, or slung across the backs of chairs. Now I cant except this endingAnd as its time for me to leavePlease make haste to the receptionTo enjoy my drinks, theyre free! At Lords Francis Thompson A condensed version by the famous poet encapsulating the atmosphere at Lords.Cricketers Last Boundary Michael Ashby A poem for a cricket-lover full of cricketing metaphors.A Cricketers Prayer anon A prayer that the game of cricket (and life) will be won, or at least be fair.The Cricketers Prayer East Leeds CC An adaptation of the Lords Prayer put together by a Yorkshire club. 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. May each new day be a perfect gift.May love surround you, may your spirits lift. Ring out false pride in place and blood,The civic slander and the spite;Ring in the love of truth and right,Ring in the common love of good. A Dad is a person, who is loving and kind,And often he knows what you have on your mind.Hes someone who listens, suggests, and defendsA dad can be one of your very best friends!Hes proud of your triumphs, but when things go wrong,A dad can be patient and helpful and strong.In all that you do, a dads love plays a partTheres always a place for him deep in your heartAnd each year that passes, youre even more glad,More grateful and proud just to call him your dad!Thank you Dad, for listening and caring,for giving and sharing, but, especially, for just being you! Which is happier, man or boy?The soul of the father is steeped in joy,For hes finding out, to his hearts delight,That his son is fit for the future fight.He is learning the glorious depths of him,And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim.And he shall discover, when night comes on,How close he has grown to his little son. The race begins,as engines roar.They charge ahead,like a wild boar. 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 doubt Ill get to heaven with an invite from the man,so I parked my bike grabbed a beer and built myself this plan!Im building myself a ramp as tall as ever seen,Ill supercharge my bike, and add a couple wings!Timing will be critical, speed will factor in,angle and approach and Ill whistle me a tune!Then one day when my journey is coming to its end,Open up them pearly gates cause this bikers jumpin in! Last updated 8 th October 2021. In life, he found his greatest joyIn this game of queens and kings,Now, as he rests beneath the soil,We remember all of his wins. Walk a while with me my friends, walk with me today,Come and see what I see, and listen to what I say,Yes I have dementia, and sometimes I get worse,Please be very grateful, that you dont have this curse,But are we all that different, the likes of you and me?We breathe the same; we feel the same, the same things we do seeThe only different my friends, I dont feel that well,When I cant remember, everything you tell,My heart beats just as quickly as yours, my blood runs just as fast,But because of my dementia, my shadow, it is cast,Its the shadow cast by others, that takes away my light,Turns my life to darkness, my pleasure to frightFor when you cast that shadow, and it comes my way,It drains me of my energy, makes me hide, or run away,Sometimes I do different things, my mind is not my own,But do YOU never talk to yourself, when you are alone?So am I all that different? He is a lover of the earth,And all the wonders it gives birth;He is a lover of the bloom,And all the fragrant, sweet perfume. 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. The boys who came to watch their gods, I seek the West,and fields and mountains ever blest. The funeral bell is pealing for one, a last farewell,And few sounds sadder than the slow peals of the loud funeral bell.Above the streets and houses it echoes to the sky,For one bound for his/her last resting place the cemetery nearby. 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. M. K. Paul A verse asking the question of what exactly a fathers role is in life. Poems for those who excelled at the supple sport of gymnastics, at whatever level. Poems for those who enjoyed flag collecting or were simply masters of vexillology. With every punch and every hitIt demonstrates its strength and skillIts resilience, its steel and gritIts honour, courage, and will. 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. cricket poems for funerals. To hunt a bird,To wet a line,Gifts from God,So good and fine. Its grand to be reunitedWith band members both old and newWe start to play it sounds so goodJust perfect like I expected it would.