Sisters.They share a special bond that is impossible to describe.It can only be felt and understood by the sisters who share it.They go through life together as a team, helping and supporting each otherThrough whatever this world has destined for them.They will never give up on each other,For giving up on your sister means giving up on yourself.They smile together, laugh together,Lie for each other, lie to each other and cry together.Your sister is the one person you can confide your whole self to, the one person who understands.She is the person who will stand by your side until the very end.She has and always will be there for you during all the times in your life,Whether they be happy or sad.A sister is someone who knows you better than you know yourself.She is someone you can’t imagine your life without,And just the thought of it makes you want to cry.She is someone who knows you’re not okay, even when you say you are.Your sister is and always will be your very best friend. Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.When an animal dies who has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends, so they can run and play together.There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigour;those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing;they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance.His bright eyes are intent;his eager body quivers.Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. . Forget unkind words I have spokenRemember some good that I’ve doneForget that I ever had heartacheAnd remember I had loads of fun. By Jean Turbeville Sanders  (authorship not verified). No one comes to the Father except through me. When patriotism was not just a wordbut,by what men lived and judgedthe worth of each,a man who lived a lifemost of us cannot comprehend. What is it about the character of the person you wish to remember? But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’, “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. Have a problem with things messing with your teeth? Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labour is not in vain. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. “I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model.”, “That’s not a leak”, said the Lord, “it’s a tear.”, “It’s for bottled-up emotions, for fallen comrades, for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the flag, for justice, for the family without its father.”, The Lord looked sombre. He’s a gentle man because he has seen the awesome power of violence out of control. Everything whirring and spinning toward something. I cannot promise she will stay,Since all from earth return,But there are lessons taught down thereI want this child to learn. As Dorothy L. Sayers once said, "I always have a quotation for everything - it saves original thinking." Local Man Driven to Insanity From Lack of Things to Do! Do something more than make a noise;Let your purpose leap into flameAs you plunge with a cry, “I shall do or die,”Then you will be playing the game. True legends need no author The various legends surrounding this particular poem are so complex and have been re-told so many times that it's likely the original writer of the piece will never be truly verified. The mast is rigid, sails are taut As you both sail away And Angels light your path for you As you go on your way. Use cute birthday wishes or funny notes to tell your loved ones that you will be there for them in spite of all this. That personality which reflectsin her eyes, and will glow with its shining life.It will be like a star, that in the evening filamenttwinkles and the humour of her personality willflicker into your awareness with joyous abandon.But, even that is not deep enough. By touch welcome and farewell, we demonstrate our love, support, comfort and forgiveness. I remember the day I first met you and you met me.It was like it was really meant to be.You are someone I hold close to my heart.There I know that we will never be apart. I moved, and could not feel my limbs:I was so light—almostI thought that I had died in sleep,And was a blessed ghost. WRONG!!!!! The deep and towering mysteries about life and death that so consumed my mind will finally be clarified in a way that they could never be before while I lived. Life can be the same after a trinket has been lost,but never after the loss of a treasure. A short story about a women who finds a notebook in the summer heat next to a corpse. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems#subjects=38&page=1&occasions=95, http://www.poetry-archive.com/b/byron_george_gordon.html, Nepean and Blacktown areas including Narangyngy. Then, now,—perchance again! For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. or you can do what he would want:smile, open your eyes, love and go on. If I had the power to turn back the clock,and go back to that house at the end of the block.The house that was home when I was a kid,I know that I’d love it more now than I did.If I could be back there at my mother’s knee,and hear once again, the things she told me.I’d listen now as I never listened before,for she knew so well what life had in store.And all the advice my dad used to give…his voice I’ll remember as long as I live.But it didn’t seem really important then,what I’d give to live it all over again.What I’d give for the chance I once had,to do so much more for my mom and dad.To give them more joy and little less pain,a little more sunshine-a lot less rain.But years roll on and I cannot go back,weather I was born in a mansion or a shack.I can start right now in the hour that’s here,to do something more for the ones I hold dear.And since time in its flight is traveling so fast,I can’t spend it regretting that which is past.But I’ll try to make tomorrow a happier day,By doing my Good unto Others…Today. A place where a guy can buy a cold beerFor a friend and a comrade, whose memory is dear,A place where no doctor or lawyer can tread,Nor a management clone would ere be caught dead,Just a quaint little place where a lady could goAnd be safe and protected by the men she would know. “You used to nibble on my ear.” “Let me get my teeth.” Great old people jokes So it is with the resurrection of the dead. So I am leftTo mourn (without a chance of consequence)You, balanced on a bike against a fence;To wonder if you’d spot the theftOf this one of you bathing; to condense,In short, a past that no one now can share,No matter whose your future; calm and dry,It holds you like a heaven, and you lieUnvariably lovely there,Smaller and clearer as the years go by. There were plenty of bold fashion statements at the inauguration of President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris, from Lady Gaga’s couture gown and massive brooch to the optimistic color of Amanda Gorman’s yellow Prada coat, but it was Bernie Sanders "grumpy chic" look that stole the show. (WARNING- contains frequent swear words). )A Cat’s entitled to expectThese evidences of respect.And so in time you reach your aim,And finally call him by his NAME.So this is this, and that is that:And there’s how you AD-DRESS A CAT. Every driver,maximum speed desires.Each sharp turn,burns their tires. But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died. Believe in God, believe also in me. I finally found love..... It can be the most wonderful experience of your life. Dear Lord, please open your gatesand call St. Francisto come escort this beloved companionacross the Rainbow Bridge. I have occasionally been described as a grumpy old man. For you had got Alzheimer’s,You failed to comprehend.Your body went on living.But your mind had reached its end. They are the true firemen of the world; they are the public servants and protectors of the innocent. Cranky Old Man (Originally by Phyllis McCormack; adapted by Dave Griffith) What do you see nurses? May the road rise to meet you,may the wind be ever at your back.May the sun shine warm upon your face,and the rains fall soft upon your fields.And until we meet again,may God hold you in the palm of his hand. So do not grieve for my going,And feel you forever must cryBut in summer just gather some flowersAnd come to the place where I lie. What’s on her mind?I cannot tellThe mum of mineI knew so well. He can deal with crime scenes painted in hell, coax a confession from a child abuser, comfort a murder victim’s family, and then read in the daily paper how law enforcement isn’t sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects.”, Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the police officer. And what a reunion it must have been,A joy beyond our conceiving,When met her once again,Ending years of dignified grieving. What do you see?What are you thinking, when you’re looking at me?A cranky old man, not very wise,Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.When you say in a loud voice,, ‘I do wish you’d try!’Who seems not to notice, the things that you do.And forever is losing, A sock or shoe?Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,With bathing and feeding, The long day to fill?Is that what you’re thinking? How many more days?His legs have grown weak, his throat’s parched and dry,He’s sick now from hunger and falls, with a sigh.He lays down his head and closes his eyes,I wish you could see how a waiting dog dies. The sterling reputation I once struggled so greatly to maintain will be of little concern for me anymore. . Old horse.Carry me to the meet.Our years together count for much,Though you’re no longer fleet.Trot on. A (hopefully) relatable story about the lack of things to do at this time in quarantine! By Aileen Hawkes, 2018, (in memory of her faithful companion Peppi). She surely raised her bairns well, Taught us strength and pride, Gave us love o’ homeland, But couldna’ make us bide. I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinnedagainst heaven and against you. When I have 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. 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 Kitty’s spread, and where the Jack is on the scene Will my final bowl be cunning, or just drive to win the end?I know I’ll find there’s Bowls in Heaven, so worry not my friend. We must seek out other artists of the spirit, new friends who gradually will help us to find the road to life again, who will walk the road with us.”– Joshua Loth Liebman, “Those things that hurt instruct.”– Benjamin Franklin, “We do not have to rely on memories to recapture the spirit of those we have loved and lost – they live within our souls in some perfect sanctuary which even death cannot destroy.”– Nan Witcomb, “Given a choice between grief and nothing, I’d choose grief.”– William Faulkner, “Grief can’t be shared. liggen verb lie. Every time you leave home,Another road takes youInto a world you were never in. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. To be brave is to cryBut still to fight on,And that’s what you did,Our hero, our son. And though there are times when yer grumpy… grumpy teacher poem. The daybreak haunts the dreary scene,The brooding ridge, the blue-grey bush,The “yard” where all her years have been,Is ankle-deep in dung and slush;She shivers as the hour drags on,Her threadbare dress of sackcloth seems—But, like her mother, years agone,She has her dreams; she has her dreams. If my parting has left a void,Then fill it with remembered joy.A friendship shared, a laugh, a kiss,Ah yes, these things I too will miss. The big day is near but there's someone missing. Happy birthday you rugged old man! I have cried, pained, and hoped … but most of all, I have lived times others would say were best forgotten. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. Remember thatI did not fear. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. And yet the cares are many and the hours of toil are few; There is not time enough on earth for all I’d like to do; But, having lived and having toiled, I’d like the world to find Some little touch of beauty that my soul had left behind. . Like a shadow beside them. You judge!But you do not know!Things you deem normal,To me can be a monumental task,Does that make me weaker?Does that mean I’m of no use?“but you aren’t fully able,What could you offer society!”. He wondered where the road was leading them. 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 can’t you be more like me? Now there they sit, don’t make a sound,Memories of footsteps on a younger ground,But that’s all talk of a different time,Don’t fit no more, those boots of mine. We are such stuffAs dreams are made on, and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep. Bless each person here whether she ended up a winner or loser when the scorecards were handed in today, for if we enjoyed the game we played together we really were all winners. I remember shooting up in the bathroom and falling out at the park. We’re off to a caravan site again, it’s really not that far.We’ve packed the van, the kids and Gran – filled up the towing car.The legs won’t wind, the hitch lock’s stuck, our tempers start to frayWe’ve too much stuff! So now I’ve packed my bags and said goodbye,The mine could never set me free,I’ll take a chance and chase my dreams,Killarney is the place for me,I’ll roam the fields where the wild birds sing,Fish the streams where the salmon run,But I’ll always remember the land of my youth,I’m proud to be a coal miner’s son. And the white light warmed him andnurtured him andfed him great peace. Of course they don’t get too many, Bein’ in Heaven and all. Many the wonders I this day have seen:The sun, when first he kissed away the tearsThat filled the eyes of Morn;—the laurelled peersWho from the feathery gold of evening lean;—The ocean with its vastness, its blue green,Its ships, its rocks, its caves, its hopes, its fears,Its voice mysterious, which whoso hearsMust think on what will be, and what has been.E’en now, dear George, while this for you I write,Cynthia is from her silken curtains peepingSo scantly, that it seems her bridal night,And she her half-discovered revels keeping.But what, without the social thought of thee,Would be the wonders of the sky and sea? Without any doubt or fearmy favourite drink is surely beer,anything from pale, to brown alein fact any beer that’s 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 doesn’t 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. Eyes that see only, a person’s Best,   A Mouth, that tells no Lies, But Smiles, with the warmth of a Helping Hand, These are Qualities we Prize. I’ll be the voice that whispers in the breeze.I’m peaceful now, put your mind at ease. Birthdays suck when you’re old, but at least you don’t have too many more to go. Farewell to Middle-earth at last.I see the Star above my mast! That there will be no fine imposed if you feel the need to clean out her desk; take down her artwork from the refrigerator; turn over a school portrait as you pass – if only because it cuts you fresh again to see it. The angels came and took you,That really wasn’t fair,They took my one and only Son,My future life. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. Here’s to the kids who are different,The kids with the mischievous streak,For when they have grown, as history’s shown,It’s their difference that makes them unique. What greater honor, that when a man moves forward,he leaves behind in each of usthe best of what he was. by Wilfred OwenThere was a whispering in my hearth,A sigh of the coal,Grown wistful of a former earth It might recall.I listened for a tale of leavesAnd smothered ferns,Frond-forests, and the low sly livesBefore the fauns.My fire might show steam-phantoms simmerFrom Time’s old cauldron,Before the birds made nests in summer,Or men had children.But the coals were murmuring of their mine,And moans down thereOf boys that slept wry sleep, and menWrithing for air.And I saw white bones in the cinder-shard,Bones without number.Many the muscled bodies charred,And few remember.I thought of all that worked dark pitsOf war, and diedDigging the rock where Death reputesPeace lies indeed.Comforted years will sit soft-chaired,In rooms of amber;The years will stretch their hands, well-cheeredBy our life’s ember;The centuries will burn rich loadsWith which we groaned,Whose warmth shall lull their dreaming lids,While songs are crooned;But they will not dream of us poor lads,Left in the ground. The man you thoroughly despiseCan rouse your wrath, ’tis true;Annoyance in your heart will riseAt things mere strangers do;But those are only passing ills;This rule all lives will prove;The rankling wound which aches and thrillsIs dealt by hands we love. ”, Death is that state in which One exists only in the memory of othersWhich is why it is not an end.No goodbyes, just good memories, “When someone dies by way of suicide, their death often overshadows their life. A time that is now gone forever.When men believed and sacrificed,when hero’s walked the earth in mass. With the first light of sun-Bless you.When the long day is done-Bless you.In your smiles and your tears-Bless you.Through each day of your years-Bless you. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’ ‘Where, O death, is your victory? Congratulations!Today is your day.You’re off to Great Places!You’re off and away! Many Irish blessing are recognised as being wedding related but they each have a special message that may be a. reminder, or may offer comfort at any time, when in context. “There’s a leak,” she pronounced. I know that no matter whatYou will always be with me.When life separates usI’ll know it is only your soulSaying goodbye to your bodyBut your spirit will be with me always.When I see a bird chirping on a nearby branchI will know it is you singing to me.When a butterfly brushes gently by me so care freelyI will know it is you assuring me you are free from pain.When the gentle fragrance of a flower catches my attentionI will know it is you reminding meTo appreciate the simple things in life.When the sun shining through my window awakens meI will feel the warmth of your love.When I hear the rain pitter patter against my window sillI will hear your words of wisdomAnd will remember what you taught me so well’That without rain trees cannot growWithout rain flowers cannot bloomWithout life’s challenges I cannot grow strong.When I look out to the seaI will think of your endless love for your family.When I think of mountains, their majesty and magnificenceI will think of your courage for your country.No matter where I amYour spirit will be beside meFor I know that no matter whatYou will always be with me. An angel lived among us,A gift from God above.She showered us with kindnessAnd shared with us her love.She cherished every momentWith the man who was her life;Walking hand in hand together,Facing life with all its strife.She loved her children dearly,Each one a different way,Nestled close within her heart.Though, now, she’s far away.She’s gone to live with Jesus. Each time a sparrow falls lifeless to the groundOur Father up in Heaven hears that tiny soundWould He be less vigilant when our lives quickly endRegardless of the reason, on God you can depend. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. They would put in the footingsthen forget to build the wall and when they did it was neither short nor tall. I’m the colourful leaves when fall comes aroundand the pure white snow that blankets the ground.I’m the beautiful flowers of which you’re so fond,The clear cool water in a quiet pond. No slang; No adult; No long tales; Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life. If they’d only see the truth, In this masquerade of youth, A parent’s job would be one of far less stress, But they crave the grog and smokes, Hang around with the wrong blokes, And don’t ever dare advise them how to dress. So although we’ll miss xx profoundlyOur grief is somewhat lessenedFor we are comforted knowing that she led a good lifeAnd that she and are now together forever. . Spock to younger Spock in Yesteryear – Star Trek the Animated Series: “Accepting death – by understanding that every life comes to an end, when time demands it. I am a child of the Dreamtime PeoplePart of this land, like the gnarled gumtreeI am the river, softly singingChanting our songs on my way to the seaMy spirit is the dust-devilsMirages, that dance on the plainI’m the snow, the wind and the falling rainI’m part of the rocks and the red desert earthRed as the blood that flows in my veinsI am eagle, crow and snake that glidesThrough the rainforest that clings to the mountainsideI awakened here when the earth was newThere was emu, wombat, kangarooNo other man of a different hueI am this landAnd this land is meI am Australia. This; just one more cycle of morning-A fraction of eternityHas me knowing:I am the SunThe breezeThe wavesThe song of the birds.I am the surfer. So his father went out and pleaded with him. Latest breaking news, including politics, crime and celebrity. Now we know your worriesCrease your brow no moreAnd your spirit rests in peaceUpon that distant shore. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. A beautiful woman is an ageless creature, Defying time’s mutiny with every feature. Life is but a stopping place,A pause in what’s to be,A resting place along the road,to sweet eternity.We all have different journeys.Different paths along the way,We all were meant to learn some things,but never meant to stay…Our destination is a place,Far greater than we know.For some the journey’s quicker,For some the journey’s slow.And when the journey finally ends,We’ll claim a great reward,And find an everlasting peace,Together with the lord. The version of its origin doing the global rounds on online social networking sites claims the poem was left behind by an old man who died in a nursing home in a rural Australian town. A variation is to use a the name of the deceased of ‘he’ instead of ‘she’ ), You can shed tears that (he) she is goneOr you can smile because (he) she has lived, You can close your eyes and pray that (he) she will come backOr you can open your eyes and see all that (he) she has left, Your heart can be empty because you can’t see his/herOr you can be full of the love that you shared, You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterdayOr you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday, You can remember her and only that (he) she is goneOr you can cherish her memory and let it live on. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book. You are everything to me, little one          And I care not who finds me silly or foolish because of that     Or who finds my time spent with you as wastedOr who sees you as “just a cat”.. For you are a part of me, and always will be     As surely and deeply as any other creature I’ve ever known. A million times I needed you,a million times I cried.If love alone could have saved youyou never would have died. A Chicken, White Tack and a Chimney Sweep. If your heart is heavy nowbecause I’ve gone awayDwell not long upon it friendFor none of us can stayThose of you who liked me,I sincerely thank you allAnd those of you who loved me,I thank you most of all. From the time I was conceived God had for me a planHe wanted me to get involved to help my fellow manI know some were against it but God knows what is bestSince the day He took me home I’ve had perfect restHeaven is so beautiful I’m walking streets of goldNow I’m serving others including saints of oldI know some still have anger about the way I diedBut God and I both have seen the many tears you’ve criedHe is a God of comfort whose love will never ceaseGive your feelings to Him and He will give you peaceAs difficult as it may be please don’t hold a grudgeRemember this my loved ones God alone will judgeThen on that resurrection day when all the dead will rise;the Lord will reunite us together in the skiesSo don’t give up my loved ones my memory is still alivePut your trust in the Lord; I know you will survive! I lost a treasured friend todayThe little dog who used to layHer gentle head upon my kneeAnd shared her silent thoughts with me. might be indicative of the person’s love, life and ambitions. Those of us who are, we children of the tides, must return to it again and again, until the day we don’t come back leaving only that which was touched along the way.”Frosty Hesson  (played by Gerard Butler), A letter of appreciation to one anonymous donor’s family, A group of Cambridge University medical students sent this tribute. Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. And in my lifetimeI need you to knowThat I was much more than I did appear. Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. By Joanne M. Clarkson of Olympia, Washington. When I have no one to turn toAnd I am feeling kind of low,When there is no one to talk toAnd nowhere I want to go,I search deep within myselfIt is the love inside my heartThat lets me know my Angels are thereEven though we are miles apart. 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