Too soon he left to travelBeyond where we can seeBut its all about the journeyForever riding free. But all the feelings that are nowSo vivid and so realCant hold their fresh intensityAs time begins to heal. 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. Your life has purpose.God sent you on a mission.To live, to love, to learn Is His commission. You watched us make the same mistakes, That you had made before, But that just made you hold us tight, And love us all the more. 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 Children that I leave behind,And their children, all were kind;Near to them and to my wife,I was happy all my life. A Drinking Song - W. B. Yeats - a short verse pondering over the role of wine and love in life. He was my North, my South, my East and West,My working week and my Sunday rest,My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. We little knew that morning,God was going to call your name.In life we loved your dearly,In death we do the same. Once it was new, best thing on the road,But now its just old; so whos driving this car? 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. He cannot help but be aware that such is the end of all life. The loss cannot be measured now, The void cannot be filled And though someday the grief made fade,His mark will live on still.For even with my heavy heart,I know that Ive been blessedTo have been one whos life he touchedWith warmth so infinite. If they mention a 'he' or 'she' you can always change that. Her fingers wind the wool aroundWithout her even thinkingAnd rows and rows of stitches showWithout her even blinking. 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. 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. Guided by the Lonely Star,beyond the utmost harbour-bar,Ill find the heavens fair and free,and beaches of the Starlit Sea.Ship, my ship! Sunday morning early comesThis sweltering summers day;One more rider, Heaven bound,Roars through the Pearly Gates. But that apron had more usesThan I could ever count.It brought in eggs and vegetablesAnd could hold a large amount. On the ashes of our Baseball Ground. And you will see. Poems for those who really enjoyed a cup of tea and the inner peace and warmth that it brought with it. Use code HELLO54 when you join us as a print or digital member and your membership will be half price for the first year. Poems perfect for those who liked to while away the hours engrossed in some table-top magic. One more day to hold your handand to watch you live your life as you planned. Three cheers for firefighters!HIP HIP HOORAY!HIP HIP HOORAY!HIP HIP HOORAY! For you were one of lifes true best,A little mean, but oh the rest,Your heart bigger than all weve known,A personality of your own. 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. Land of the rainbow gold,For flood and fire and famine she pays us back threefold.Over the thirsty paddocks, watch, after many days,The filmy veil of greenness that thickens as we gaze. Sowellgono more a-climbingSolate into the night,Though the will be neer unyielding,And the urge be still as bright. Your love for coffee was a passion,A way to start each day anew.It gave you strength and courage,To do the things you had to do. I would be wearing a favourite dressYou as always looking your usual bestFeeling like Cinderella at the BallWith the most handsome Prince Charming of all. I do not think of you lying in the wet clayOf a Monaghan graveyard; I seeYou walking down a lane among the poplarsOn your way to the station, or happily. 50 Beautiful Funeral Poems To Honor A Loved One's Memory So please bear with us, dear audienceAnd act your part as well:We salute a thespian titanWho had such a good life to tell. Where every day is a day to fish,To fill your heart with every wish.Dont worry, or feel sad for me,Im fishin with the Master of the sea. Forever the bells will be goneI do not know where to find themFor I thought not of their lightAnd I heard not what they sangWhen the ten thousand bells rang. The world is always peaceful,As I sit and drink my tea.Im grateful for these simple moments,Of pure tranquility. The topic Cricket themed reading for Dads funeral is closed to new replies. Floral Tribute, which has been distributed by Armitage's publisher, Faber, is a double acrostic . 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. How did you find the energy, MumTo do all the things you did,To be teacher, nurse and counsellorTo me, when I was a kid? This fourth rose is for our love.We enjoy beauty and its presence,Continuing to guide and lead us.Regardless of the seasons of our lives,Our love for you will continue. Theres a picture I cant look away fromWith simplicity of your innocence.Theres a picture of what love can becomeWith simplicity, strength and elegance. She wore themThrough good timesAnd badThrough laughterAnd tearsThrough joyAnd pain. Smart lad, to slip betimes awayFrom fields where glory does not stay,And early though the laurel growsIt withers quicker than the rose. and fought to the last breath. I am the last barman poet,I see America drinking the fabulous cocktails I make,Americans getting stinky on something I stir or shake,The Sex on the Beach, the schnapps made from peach,The Velvet Hammer, The Alabama Slammer,I make things with juice and froth,The Pink Squirrel, the 3-toed Sloth,I make drinks so sweat and snazzy,The Iced Tea, the Kamikazi,The Orgasm, the Death Spasm,The Singapore Sling,The Dingaling.America youve just been devoted to every flavor I got,But if you want to got loaded,Why dont you just order a shot?Bar is open. The poems on this page are suitable for any loved one. Also the late, great Peter Tinniswood wrote a fantastic pair of books called "tales from the long room" and "more tales from the long room". Ring out the grief that saps the mindFor those that here we see no more;Ring out the feud of rich and poor,Ring in redress to all mankind. If I had a voice nowIt would be lovingAnd I would say thank you for all of your care.If I had a voice nowId want to tell youIm sorry for not always wanting to be there.My life, it confused you, it did so to me.But I am released now and my heart is free.The heart that was hidden beneath all the pain,It felt so much more than I could explain.And if I had a voice now,Id say out loudI love you, I wish that Id made that clear.And in my lifetimeI need you to knowThat I was much more than I did appear.These are things that Id say through choiceif I had a chance and if I had a voice. I Juggle As I Go Mark Gregory A poem that mimics the rhythmic repetition of juggling, and, indeed, of life.The Juggler Richard Wilbur A poem that uses a juggler as ametaphorfor the kind of change one needs in life. They were the glue that held us all in place, The one we could always depend on, Their warmth and kindness never failed, Their love, an endless fountain. Rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, and birdsDogs, and cats, and everything furredAn interest in creatures in others she stirredAnd through illness, she went on, undeterred. Sometimes Jacks come out to play,theyre a joyful bunch and kind.It happens they overrule the Kings,but isnt it true that love is blind? I know of the good and the bad,The happy and the sad.I am a man of emotions. In the grey summer garden I shall find youWith day-break and the morning hills behind you.There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings;And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings.Not from the past youll come, but from that deepWhere beauty murmurs to the soul asleep:And I shall know the sense of life re-bornFrom dreams into the mystery of mornWhere gloom and brightness meet. Oh, on his toe the table is turning, the broomsBalancing up on his nose, and the plate whirlsOn the tip of the broom! Sometimes the mist overhangs my path,And blackening clouds about me cling.But, oh, I have a magic wayTo turn the gloom to cheerful dayI softly sing. I do not want these words to make you cry.I do not want to ever say goodbye. An opal-hearted country, a wilful, lavish land All you who have not loved her, you will not understand Though earth holds many splendours, wherever I may die,I know to what brown country my homing thoughts will fly. Idyll Siegfried Sassoon A peaceful poem about meeting again in the calmness and idyll of the afterlife.Overwhelmed Marjorie Pizer A verse about sitting by the sea to seek calmness when everything gets too much.Their Quiet Heart Mark Gregory A verse for someone who brought calmness and serenity to any situation. Always dressed in the finest clothes,A true fashionista no-one could oppose.Your style was so impeccable and bold;Your passion for fashion will never grow old. Funeral Poems | Popular Bereavement Poems | SunLife I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life.To the gulls way and the whales way where the winds like whetted knife:And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long tricks over. 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. Dear lovely Death. Be brave.Swim against the stream;Its more than okay. People emerge from winter to hear them ring,children glitter with mischief and the blind man hearsbells in the town alight with spring.Even he on his eyes feels the caressingfinger of Persephone, and her voice escaped from tearsmake clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. 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! But you can find many more. Though the day was made for scaling,And the dusk gathers too soon,You and mellgono more a-climbingBy thelight of the moon. I here profess my strong beliefIn my revealed Lord;Ive found Him in the rocky leaf,And his inspired word. Old Father Time, I pray to youThat clouds give it a rest,And that I get a game today,And that I play my best. The life of man is like a game of chess,The which he plays according to his art;Winning or losing he doth nothing lessThan to obey the dictates of his heart. Non-religious funeral readings are a beautiful way to connect to grieving loved ones, giving you the ability to make a non-religious funeral personal and unique. I have always neededthe solace of storiesthe companionship of charactersthe escape of other worldsthe wisdom of wordsthe guidance of good writing. You light up a room when you walk in.If someone feels sad, you can make them grin. Theres not a pair of legs so thin, theres not a head so thick,Theres not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick.But it can find some needful job thats crying to be done,For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one. The gardener is a patient man,He works from dawn as much he can;And when the day is done and hes through,He looks with pride at what he grew. So dance with me this eveningAbove the lands belowThe clouds provide our dance floorNeath the light of those we know. Deeper down I goso unknown steps belowexploring further than anyones beenthere seems to be no end. The first candle represents our grief. Main Menu. Cricket And Poetry: A History | All Out Cricket | Culture Special - Wisden He wanted someone strong,A support filled with love,So he created fathers,Sent from heaven up above. Have you checked the smoke detectors? Ive seen fire and Ive seen rainIve been through a desert on a horse with no name, Ive gone to Kansas City, I sang in the sunshineIve been on the road again, with Georgia on my mind, Like a rolling stone, Ive given peace a chanceIve put a camel to bed and danced the last dance, Mr Tambourine Man played a song for meIve whispered words of wisdom, let it be, Ive fallen into a burning ring of fire and walked the lineTo all the girls Ive loved before, you were always on my mind, Ive been everywhere, Ive been so lonesome I could cryIve driven my Chevy to the levee when the levee was dry, Ive been to Itchy Coo Park in a yellow submarineIve made the scene in a time machine, Ive done the Hokey Pokey and turned myself aroundIve welcomed baby back to the poor side of town, Ive followed the tracks of my tears down a long and winding roadIve kept on searching for a heart of gold, Ive sought shelter from the storm, Ive sat on the dock of the bayIve rocked around the clock, on a sunshiny day, Ive knocked on Heavens door, while blowing in the windJoy to the world those were the days my friend. 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. All these visions give me hopeThat death is not the endThat an eternity awaits usThat together we will spend. Poems for those who loved games like bridge, canasta, poker, and various other card-based activities. As the flag is lowered to half mast,We mourn the loss of one who has passed.A lover of flags, they stood so proud,A symbol of freedom, they did avow. And now my race had endedSo much I have achievedI loved you all so very muchIt was so hard to leave. She leaps and flips and twists and splits,Her body a blur in motion,Her dedication and discipline,A beautiful emotion. Here is an excert from a letter to an American explaining all about Cricket. Turned out from my hipsNo words coming from my lipsI dance sweetly to the soundOoh ballet, to you, I am bound. extract from The Tempest by William Shakespeare. Ah: badminton, tennis, andping-pong: obsessive,repetitive, & Kafkamight have invented tennis-scoring,Love equated with Zero, Fifteenpulled out of a surrealists head. But now my shift is overIve done my very bestLast orders; its time for closureAnd time for me to rest. Every driver,maximum speed desires.Each sharp turn,burns their tires. and whatever a sun will always sing is you. Let the beer flow steadily and the wine pour right,Make the cider fizz lightly and the cocktails look bright,May the bar remain clean and the floor vomit-free,And please, let there be no trouble for me. 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. We didnt eat in front of the TVOr with a phone in our handWe werent plugged into a stereobopping to the latest band. Short Poems for Funerals - Short Poems Your fingerprints are on my heart.Fingerprints that teach me about caring.Fingerprints that teach me about love.Fingerprints that teach me about courage.Fingerprints that teach me about hope.Fingerprints that bring me closer to my loved ones.Fingerprints that bring me closer to myself.In the time I cared for you my whole life changed never to be the same againAll this from tiny fingerprints that touch my heart.You will live in my heart forever never to be forgotten.I will always love you.You are my child. They say the answer has five lettersbut I now have had enough;I found the answer in the back apparently its GRUFF! The sky became your deep blue seaThe clouds became your shoreAnd there, for all eternityYou sat with friends galore. Dont weep at my grave,For I am not there.Ive a date with a butterflyTo dance in the air.Ill be singing in the sunshine,Wild and free,Playing tag with the windWhile Im waiting for thee. Karate is a quiet art,Yet speaks louder than a shout.It moves with grace, a work of heart,And can turn a life around. When We Lose a Loved One When we lose a loved one Our world just falls apart We think that we cant carry on With this broken heart Everything is different now You're upset and you're annoyed Your world it seems is shattered There's such an awful void 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. Not just a freeway drive, but each outing on a mission,And not a veering trundle, but a task of deep precision,Not the tedium of traffic, relief at the arriving,The thrill is in the journey, and the passion in the driving. Sometimes we do the rumba,a foxtrot or a jive,as we dance through our life,each and every day. 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. 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. Today, the road all runners come,Shoulder-high we bring you home,And set you at your threshold down,Townsman of a stiller town. And when he died at just years,his brother comforted me,with, I expect God wants to put him right,but we missed him dreadfully. or hanging inside the dark closet. Hers was a life full of kindness and heart,She was selfless, private, but always played her partCaring for animals to her was like art,And her example inspired many others to start. We have a lot to be thankful for,The memories through the years.The many times together,Full of laughter, full of tears. If you want fame for yourself, go play an individual game. When I speak your name,It still brings music to my ears,And I can still see your smileAs if heaven is so near. Their quiet heart, a noble trait,That listened well, would sit and wait,A steady hand, a patient soul,That brought us peace, and made us whole. O Life! Out of the corner of my eye I see you there, but when I turn to look, you fade away.What I wouldnt give to just have one more day. Im thankful that my heart connects us this waya mother and child, death cant take it away! They give all they have and then give more,While helping somebody get through.Its not about thanks or for mention,Its something thats in them they do. Beer Is Just Fine - Roy Pett - A humorous verse deliberating over the wonders of beer. A good eye and a perfect stance. Alone on my tin pony,to the heavens Ive been called,but fret not my dear loved ones,Im not lonely here at all. The only reason these days,that I ever get down on one knee,Is to view the World the way,that only a Bowler gets to see,Upon that velvet turf,looking down along the level green,Studying the Kittys spread,and where the Jack is on the scene.Will my final bowl be cunning,or just drive to win the end?I know Ill find theres Bowls in Heaven,so worry not my friend. 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. Tiny Angel, look at me,I want this image clearThat I will forget your precious faceIs my biggest fear. Pink tights by the moundBobby pins all aroundLeotards on the floorPointe shoes by the door. Thou life giving wheelWhose sinews are steelMy veins imbibe life from thine ownAnd I sink to my restWith true loyal zestWhile my dreams are my cycles alone. As Stevie Bloomer watches down. 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. Funeral Poems For Cricketers "A Cricketer's Last Boundary" A CRICKETER'S LAST BOUNDARY Weeping willows formed an honour guard For the cricket ball writ with a noble name A team of ten, which had once been eleven Would never be the same side again No bails united the forlorn stumps Since this wicket had fallen some days ago Poems for those who loved exploring the darkest depths of the oceans. This third rose represents your memory.For the times we laughed,The times we cried,The times we were angry with each other,The silly things you did,The caring and joy you gave us. Funeral Music: 20 Most Popular Funeral Songs - Funeral Guide Poems for people who had family at the centre of their lives. All Internet links/videos/pictures in here ONLY, Optical equipment repair and refurbishment as a hobby. A wife, a mother, a grandmother too,This is the legacy we have from you.You taught us love and how to fight,You gave us strength, you gave us might.A stronger person would be hard to find,And in your heart, you were always kind.You fought for us all in one way or another,Not just as a wife not just as a mother.For all of us you gave your best,Now the time has come for you to rest.So go in peace, youve earned your sleep,Your love in our hearts, well eternally keep. And though you are gone, though youre not here with methe cord is still there but no one can seeIt pulls at my heart, I am bruisedI am sorebut this cord is my lifeline as never before. A piece of satire describing the performance of Team India in the T20 world cup 2022. Poems for those who enjoyed a bout in the ring, or who enjoyed taking in a big fight. Poems about grandfathers, grandpas, and gramps. The first verse of Sir Henry Newbolt's 'Play the Game'? Let us faith and hope receiveThe rose still grows beyond the wall,Scattering fragrance far and wideJust as it did in days of yore,Just as it did on the other side,Just as it will forever-more. Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of Chatham. The steps grew larger, the land less greatMy eyes more tired, my path less straightThe bells kept ringing, farther awayToo many to count, their sound now grey. No wound so deep will ever goEntirely awayYet every hurt becomesA little less from day to day. The warm crowd faintly clapped, You know right from wrong.You are the melody from a beautiful love song. Poems about those people in our lives who stuck by us through thick and thin. It was the way he moved that made him seemSo much a part of what he did;In every somersault and cartwheelHe seemed to turn himself to air. However they cant live without,the nine, ten, two or eight.The common numbers of lifes game,theyll set the balance straight. After she died, I swear the skyHad the most beautiful of all sunsets,A blush of pink, then red, a glass of red,Sudden dark and a hammock moon,Then its faint silhouette, almost secret.Life half-written, half unsaid.I had kissed your head in the strange room.Then later, I blew a kiss to the stars, to regret. Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye. So jealously I stare at the starsBut you are all I see;For they are where your heart residesAnd where I long to be. I discovered you tuckedAway in the shadow of the trees.Then rediscovered you on the smiles of the flowersAs the sun penetrated the petals;In the rhythm of the leavesFalling in the garden;In the freedom of birdsAs they fly searching as you do. Poems about people who liked a drink in a healthy way. The gardener, with his spade and hoe,Works in the sun and rain and snow;He digs and plants and waters too,And watches over what he grew. As blow after blow upon his battered head does fallHe knows but only one way, and that is the brawlAnd though his poor body has long since given inThe Spirit of the Fighter knows no such thing! We rubbed our chins and scratched our heads just what did it mean?Try menacing, or angry,or something in between? You want for them the best,But they put you to the test,And seem intent, your efforts to defy,Beseech, threaten, teach or cheer,They so seldom seem to hear,No matter how bloody hard you may try. Over'? 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. I pray that if a batsmanLoops a ball into my lap,Ill pouch it without too much fuss,And get a well-earned clap. 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. 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! BINGO! H eartbreaks hurt less when you were by my side. In the Theatre Of DreamsThe lights have dimmedThe curtains about to close, Its the end of the showSadly it happened you knowLife just ebbs and flows, The cast in my lifeWere my children, my wifeNow only memories fill my head, I have lived all my dreamsNow its the end of the sceneMy script has finally been read, When you walk through a stormHold your head up highAnd dont be afraid of the dark, At the end of a stormTheres a golden skyAnd the sweet silver song of a lark, Walk on through the windWalk on through the rainFor your dreams be tossed and blown, Walk on, walk onWith hope in your heartAnd youll never walk aloneYoull never walk alone. Poems For Funerals: Poems & Verses For Sympathy Messages Day is ended, dim my eyes,but journey long before me lies.Farewell, friends! A keen Bridge player from ChardFound losing so terribly hardImagine how she feltWhen she saw shed been dealtThree jokers and a bridge scoring card? A timers ringing in my earThe dish of my lifetime is finally hereLove, family, friendship and cakeIngredients that really helped keep me awakeBut Ive now run out of that most important of allIve scoured the kitchen and even searched the hallIf only Id been more sage with my thymeAnd possibly quaffed alittleless wineSo please stand and shout with me, if you dont mindMORE THYME! The sails are set,the wind is east, the moorings fret.Shadows long before me lie,beneath the ever-bending sky,but islands lie behind the Sunthat I shall raise ere all is done;lands there are to west of West,where night is quiet and sleep is rest. It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk, Though my own red roses there may blow; It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk, Though the red roses crest the caps, I know. As kids, we lived togetherWe fought, we laughed, we cried.We did not always show the love,that we both had inside.We shared our dreams and plans,and some secrets too.All the memories we share,Is what bonds me now to you.We grew to find we have a lovethat is very strong today.Its a love shared by our family,that will never fade away.You are my brother not by choice,but by the nature of our birthI could not have chosen a better oneyou were the best on earth. From hoops, to drops, to barbell hugs, She loved wearing tiny rocks, But no one can actually see her now, Shes become a walking jewellery box!