When you decide to call me LordIn Your special way,Could there be a team one player shortWho might ask me to play? 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. God looked around his gardenAnd found an empty place,He then looked down upon the earthAnd saw your tired face. 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. Beer Is Just Fine Roy Pett A humorous verse deliberating over the wonders of beer.The Beer Prayer anon A beer-infused version of the Lords Prayer.A Drinking Song W. B. Yeats a short verse pondering over the role of wine and love in life.Fortifying The Spirits Michael Ashby A humorous poem perfect for someone who liked a drink or two.The Lost Drink Banjo Paterson An ode to a once-in-a-lifetime drink concoction that was never found again. Though the day was made for scaling,And the dusk gathers too soon,You and mellgono more a-climbingBy thelight of the moon. 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. We did so much togetherrode in carsshared our lovenear the campfireWith soft and tender armsTamed broken pasts. OUR AUDIOBOOK IS NOW AVAILABLE THROUGH AUDIBLE &. " "You live longer once you realize that any time spent being unhappy is wasted." 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. Poems for those who brought laughter into our lives. The Archers Bow Shelbie Hale An ode to the oneness between archer and bow that has now come to an end.The Arrow And The Song Henry Longfellow Wadsworth A verse touching upon the impact people have on our lives.An Arrow Chosen From A Quiver anon A slightly religious poem comparing someones life to the release of an arrow. BINGO! - Navjot Sidhu 5 1 Add a comment The third umpires should be changed as often as nappies and for the same reason. Like the car he drives,He will pass you in the fast lane of life,Like the blaring music from his car,He loves life and a good joke,Like the roaring engine of his car,His temper will take off like a racer to the finish line,With his fast car he ran straight through everyones heart,When his engine went he went along with his fast car to heaven,Going fast as he could down the road of eternal sleep,While he lies in his eternal sleep never to wake his fast car lies with him! 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. From the first time that you hold em,Through every time you scold em,And every soiled nappy that youve changed,From all the crap you saw,They will always dish out more,Its just the way that children are arranged. 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. The Funeral Bell Francis Duggan A sombre poem about the feelings that arise upon hearing a funeral bell.Ring Out, Wild Bells Alfred Lord Tennyson A wonderful piece about ringing out the bad and ringing in the good.Villanelle Of Bells Keith Douglas A lengthy but beautifully poetic piece about bells guiding our way in life. He wanted someone strong,A support filled with love,So he created fathers,Sent from heaven up above. 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. Camping Kaitlyn DeMatteo A short verse contemplating the wonders of camping out under the stars.I Feel You Drifting Darren White A moving, heartfelt verse written by a partner to their lost lover.This Journey Is Just Beginning Ju D. G. A lament upon having to part, but hopeful of what might be to come. And I think of you walking along a headlandOf green oats in June,So full of repose, so rich with lifeAnd I see us meeting at the end of a town. We kick off-side by side in a minuteCheered by old family, teammates and friendsFootballs really a blast in heavenAfter your first whistle, the matches never end! 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. The road you feel, within your palms, at every bend you take,Every bump and line and camber, each triumph and mistake,Your car it tells you all of this, for this is truly livin,Petrol flowing through the veins, and ways it can be driven. Ring in the valiant man and free,The larger heart, the kindlier hand;Ring out the darkness of the land,Ring in the Christ that is to be. Tiny Angel shook his head,These things I do not knowBut I do know that you love me,And that I love you so., This was a life that had hardly begunNo time to find your place in the SunNo time to do all you could have doneBut we loved you enough for a lifetimeNo time to enjoy the world and its wealthNo time to take life down off the shelfNo time to sing the songs of yourselfThough you had enough love for a lifetime. That man was made of many partsA teacher of lifes skills and artsFull of love and full of careWith much to give, and much to share. Do not standatmy grave and weep,I am not there, I do not sleep.I amathousand winds that blow;I am the diamond glintson thesnow.I am the sunlight on ripened grain;I am the gentleautumnsrain.Whenyouawaken in themornings hush,I am the swiftupliftingrushOf quiet birds incircledflight.I am thesoft star that shines atnight.Do not standatmy grave and cry.I am not there; I did not die. We had a wonderful grandmotherOne who never really grew oldHer smile was made of sunshineAnd her heart was solid gold. I pray the wickets well-prepared,And that it doesnt stick,That all my shots find gaps And that the outfields fairly quick. 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. Toggle navigation Poem Searcher Discovery Engine 7,226 categories 345276 poems M. K. Paul A verse asking the question of what exactly a fathers role is in life. I see now it was love, MumThat made you come whenever Id call,Your inexhaustible love, MumAnd I thank you for it all. Rev. 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. Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.I give a share of my soul to the world where my course is run.I know that another shall finish the task I must leave undone.I know that no flower, nor flint was in vain on the path I trod.As one looks on a face through a window, through life, I have looked on God. Little rattle of dry seeds in pods, The warm crowd . And Rest Rev. The empty spots beckon; They yearn to be filled And if Im successful Im quietly thrilled. Edged and taken. Without any doubt or fearmy favourite drink is surely beer,anything from pale, to brown alein fact any beer thats on sale,never halves, only pints or largerstout, bitter, smooth or golden lager,wonderful taste of malt and hopsproduced from ripe natural crops,must be drunk cold never warmdrinking good beer will do no harm,beer surely doesnt cause a beer bellydrink too much makes you very silly,you can keep your spirits and winea good pint of beer to me is just fine,beer is drunk north, south, east and westevery country thinks their beers the best. 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. 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. Just wish me to be near you,And Ill be there with you. Eyes the shady night has shutCannot see the record cut,And silence sounds no worse than cheersAfter earth has stopped the ears. Golf tees on my dresserGolf tees in my bedGolf tees on my pillowsWhere they poke me in my head.Golf tees in my closetFalling from my shirts and pantsGolf tees along the baseboardsJust like army ants.Golf tees in the carpetAnd underneath my feetGolf tees lined up on the mantleOh, they look so neat.Golf tees in my couchAnd in my back and thighsWhen I sit and watch TVI feel those little guys.Golf tees in the kitchenIn Jurassic coffee mugsSometimes when I pass themThey look like prehistoric bugs.Golf tees in the bathtubLike sailors on plastic shipsGolf tee in her make upLike little bald q tips.Golf tees in the atticGolf tees in the shedGolf tees, golf tees everywhereI wonder where they bred.Golf tees out the backdoorLike Hansel and Gretels trailsGolf tees in the flowerbedsAmong the mulch and snails.Golf tees in my carAnd underneath the matsGolf tees in the backseatLike little baseball bats.But when I am at the golf courseI ask my partner, like a louseMay I borrow some of your tees?I left mine at the house!, I really am a golfer And let me tell you whyIts only when I swing a club I really feel aliveI really am a golferAnd take my driver outI swing my club and hit the ballAs hard as I have mightI really am a golferMy ball is in the roughI swing my metal 3 real hardTo find the grass is toughI really am a golferMy ball goes 50 feetIts out the rough and in the sandAnd buried very deepI really am a golferI take my sand wedge outI open up the face of itAnd swing it with a cloutI really am a golferMy ball is on the greenI swing the putter in an arcWith boggy on the seenI really am a golferMy put goes 10ft pastIm looking at a doubleBut the green is just too fastI really am a golferThe balls beside the cupI make it in the centreAnd my friends they call it luck, by Criswell Freeman(final verse by Mark Gregory), Life is like a round of golf,with many twists and turnsBut the game is much too sweet and short,to curse the shots youve missed, Sometimes youll hit it straight and far,sometimes the puts run trueBut each round has its wayward shots,and troubles to play through, So always swing with heart and courage,no matter what the lieAnd never let the hazardsdestroy the joy inside. The Road goes ever on and onOut from the door where it began.Now far ahead the Road has gone,Let others follow it who can!Let them a journey new begin,But I at last with weary feetWill turn towards the lighted inn,My evening-rest and sleep to meet. Below are the all-time best Rugby poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. For you may findWhen you clear the hilly topThat the brakes of life may seizeAnd take you to a messy stop. Sunset and evening star,And one clear call for me!And may there be no moaning of the bar,When I put out to sea. A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip There is a glorious fellowship!Father and son and the open skyAnd the white clouds lazily drifting by,And the laughing stream as it runs alongWith the clicking reel like a martial song,And the father teaching the youngster gayHow to land a fish in the sportsmans way. The strings were tied, it was freshly washed, and maybe even pressed.For Grandma, it was every day to choose one when she dressed.The simple apron that it was, you would never think about.the things she used it for, that made it look worn out. So long as love and hope and dreamsAbide in earth and sky,Weep not for me, though I be gone.I shall not really die. The first verse of Sir Henry Newbolt's 'Play the Game'? It knocks down the road toward the next wreckers yard,And it cant get far; whos driving this car? Poems for those who had plenty of furry and feathered friends. Pink tights by the moundBobby pins all aroundLeotards on the floorPointe shoes by the door. 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. Which organisations allow you to scatter? "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep" by Mary Frye. Unknown Life is simply a cricket match, with temptation as the bowler. It wove its way within our hearts, in all our hopes and dreams,Until the very purest love became my tiny wings.Although I could not stay with you, I knew right from the start,That once you felt your angels love, youd keep me in your hearts. In my kayak I find peaceOn the water, all is calmThe rhythm of the paddles releaseAll the stress and all the qualms.
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