Funerals can truly be augmented by a poem that is apt and fitting for the person you have just lost. The following list of funeral poems about snooker are perfect for those who enjoyed the game of billiards, either watching on television or taking part themselves.
The Shot Of My Lifetime
by Michael Ashby
My white world spun in front of me
As I aimed to go in off the last yew tree
Shot! My black coffin now teetered on the brink
And gave me time for a last steadying drink
Before I drop off in front of you
As always, I’ll be right on cue
Many thanks for the 147 cannon salute
It’s made me feel more resolute
After a lifetime of playing with my colourful balls
I’m now going to compete in more hallowed halls
And so as I end my last earthly walk
I hear cries from above “We forgot to put in his chalk!”
Red yellow green brown, pink black and blue
I always knew I could count on you
Snooker
by Phil Soar
Each frame an adventure of consummate skill,
Lining the balls up, whilst they are quite still,
And stroking them home to amass the best score,
To better the break that they’d potted before.
Some players may wait for a place at the table,
No reflection of status, or that they’re not able,
Perhaps their opponent has plotted his time,
And has potted the balls in a way that’s sublime.
At the end of the game, there’s a feeling of joy,
That he’s had the ability to plan and destroy,
To visit the baize, and perform to his best,
And then lift the trophy above his proud chest.
Snooker Players
by Lawrence Sail
They whistle the fine smoke
Of blue dust from the cue,
suave as gunslingers, never
Twitching one muscle too few.
At ease, holstering their thumbs
In trimmest waistcoats, they await
Their opponent’s slip, the easiest
Of shots miscalculated.
Their sleek heads shine, spangled
With the sure knowledge of every angle.
Once at the table, they bend
In level reverence to squint
At globe after globe, each
With its window of light glinting
On cushioned greener than green,
The rounded image of reason.
One click and cosmology thrives,
All colours know their seasons
And tenderly God in white gloves
Retrieves each fallen planet with love.
Watching them, who could believe
In the world’s lack of balance?
Tucked in this pocket of light
Everything seems to make sense –
Where grace is an endless break
And justice, skill repaid,
And all eclipses are merely
A heavenly snooker displayed.
Yet all around, in the framing
Darkness, doubt dogs the game.
To access our full list of funeral poems, click here.
All poems featured on this website are free to use during any ceremony, although it is good practice to make sure the author is mentioned, if known. Should you require a celebrant for your ceremony, be it a funeral, a wedding, a naming ceremony or something else, feel free to get in touch. I am a double award-nominated Family and Funeral Celebrant covering the entire UK, and would be happy to help you commemorate in a meaningful and personal way.
