cricket poems for funerals

He strived so hard from day to dayAnd never oft complained,With steady hands he worked so hardAnd kept the family name, Dad dwells amongst the angels now;He left us much too soon.He is now with mum, his wife again;From pain he is immune. "All is Well" by Henry Scott Holland. 36 Funeral Poems - my | Farewelling A faith few possess led your journey through life, often a jagged and stony way,The sun is setting, the cattle are all bedded, and here now is the end of your day. She puts it to her lips with ease,just hurting deep inside.Tried to hide the pain away,to get that one last high.She sees the lights over head,one by one they pass,going down an empty hall,theyre trying to save her fast.She hears them say, oh no, weve failed,weve lost another one.This addiction took another soul,it started out with fun.Now her friends and family sit above her flower covered grave.She floats above and cries to herself,all I did was crave.Now theres a hand reaching for me.Its time to say goodbye.This disease just got one more.Promise me, dont cry. What are Airlines Policies on carrying ashes? For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding. He noted that first came the date of birthAnd spoke the following date with tears,But he said what mattered most of allWas the dash between those years. 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. Ruth E. Renkl. The laughter and loveIt always shone through. give me the flavourof butterscotch and vanillawith a little chocolateplease and thank you. 10 Inspiring Funeral Readings for Any Service - Knowledge Center This suffering flesh, 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. As I look up to the skies above,The stars stretch endlessly But somehow all those rays of lightSeem dimmer now to me.As I watch the morning sun appearThe shadows still dont fadeAs if the brightest light of allWas somehow swept away. Please tell her she is loved so very dear.Ill say it every day for her to hear.Her short life on earth is now completedFor lessons Im sure you felt I needed. I Am A Martial Artist Karen Eden A poem about the pride and courage needed for various forms of martial art.Karate Is A Quiet Art Mark Gregory A reflection upon karate as a journey of self-discipline.Martial Arts Is So Much More Than Just A Fighting Art Daya Nandan A poem about the richness of martial arts.The Warriors Spirit Mark Gregory A poem about the strong, bold spirit of a fighter and warrior. Going to second Mass on a summer SundayYou meet me and you say:Dont forget to see about the cattleAmong your earthiest words the angels stray. You know Ill never leave youeven when Im far awayIn the moments when the words stopand your breath gets in the wayI will softly say I love youbarely louder than the breezeSo I hope you gently listento my voice between the trees. I juggle through the years, and watch them come and go,With all their hopes and fears, their joys and tears and woe,I catch them as they fall and fling them to the sky,And catch them as they come back down, and so I juggle by. Pinter's perfectly scripted farewell - The Independent 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. cricket poems for funerals Or when Sol dips his crestNeath the glorious westAnd the sunlight congeals into darkWe will skim by the seaWe will shoot oer the leaWe will follow the meteors mark. Short Funeral Poems Nobody likes long-winded, dry segments at an already dour event like a funeral. We have sought, but we sought it vainly,That one last drink divine;We have sampled his various bottles,But somehow they dont combine:Yet I know when I cross the riverAnd stand on the Golden ShoreI shall meet with an angel chemist Wholl brew me that drink once more. Her eyes were bright as shining starsAnd in her cheeks fair roses you see.We had a wonderful grandmother,And thats the way it will always be. Where houses stand and turf once lay. 11 min read. Funeral Poems - Moving Poetry for Memorial Services | Stoneletters Its all about the journeyIts the part that countsEven when he gets thereHe may just turn around. 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. So dry your tears and smile a smileYou arent alone, you seeYou have this special blanketIts my love, a part of me. Spaces fillwith a kind ofsoothing electric vibration.Our senses, restored, neverto be the same, whisper to us.They existed. Unique if rudyard kipling related items, Etsy. For the cricket ball writ with a noble name, A team of ten, which had once been eleven, Since this wicket had fallen some days ago, And as the bowler delivered to the lone batsman, The cricketer crossing the last boundary, To a third innings that would forever last. Close The Gate Nancy Kraayenhof A poem accenting the physical and metaphorical importance of closing the gateThe Harvest Sherrie Bradley Neal A more symbolic poem about the harvest and how it reflects the cycle of life.I Farmed The Land Earl Smithson A beautiful little poem about the simplicity and skill of a farmers life.Im Just A Farmer, Plain And Simple Bobby Collier Another poem about the supposed simplicity of farming life.The Old Farmers Prayer Steve Watkins A lightly religious poem about a farmers final message to their loved ones. Im just a farmer,Plain and simple.Not of a royal birthBut rather, a worker of the earth. Avaruus Ja Thtitiede. 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. The other bingo players follow you with their eyes,As you happily claim that winning prize,Just the thought of bingo and the chance to win,Makes you smile one great big bingo grin! The Bowlers Prayer anon A prayer asking for help from God to ensure the bowled ball lands near the Jack.A Crown Green Bowlers Prayer P. Helliwell A verse imploring the Lord to ensure there are games of bowls in heaven.My Last End Graeme Cook A lovely, short poem inspired by memorable games upon that velvet turf.Unbiased Bowls J.J. Hasson A light-hearted poem discussing the bias of bowls and perhaps also of life. 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 may have used it to hold some wildflowers that shed found.Or to hide a crying childs face when a stranger came around.Imagine all the little tears that were wiped with just that cloth.Or it became a potholder to serve some chicken broth. So, think about this long and hard.Are there things youd like to change?For you never know how much time is leftThat can still be rearranged. Cricket reading for a funeral : r/Cricket - reddit He taught us all so much;his brother how to care,tenderness bonded the family;it grew from our despair. The free bird thinks of another breezeand the trade winds soft through the sighing treesand the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawnand he names the sky his own. The Darkness Of The Theatre Mark Gregory A fitting poem for someone who loved watching movies at the cinema.Funeral Blues W. H. Auden The now famous poem thanks to its recital in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral.O Me! Time for us to part now, we wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, shining in the sky.Every waking moment, and all your whole life throughJust look for me and love me, as you know I loved you. The sadness of the present daysIs locked and set in time.And moving to the futureIs a slow and painful climb. Grandmas quilts were always there,A comforting, colourful sight,A source of warmth and motherly love,On cold and lonely nights. It is not the only placeWhere people do this, but it is the best.I used to like to come and see themWhen I was young, and that was how I knewThat when they looked so hard and longThey found what they were looking for.I think they did. Maailmankaikkeus. This poem by Robert Burns describes a friend who is an honest man, a guide to youth and an informed human being. Twenty-four numbers and one free space,Bingo players, find your place!Hoping to win if you are ableWith the cards that lay upon the table. White rose petals fall and blossoms fade,Memories linger yet,Recollections of happier times,You never will forget. For the field is full of shades as I near the shadowy coast, And a ghostly batsman plays to the bowling of a ghost, And I look through my tears on a soundless-clapping host As the run-stealers flicker to and fro, To and fro: O my Hornby and my Barlow long ago! Every gambler knowsThat the secret to survivinIs knowin what to throw awayAnd knowin what to keepCause every hands a winnerAnd every hands a loserAnd the best that you can hope forIs to die in your sleep.. For it matters not, how much we own,The cars, the house, the cash;What matters is how we live and loveAnd how we spend our dash. Once it was new, best thing on the road,But now its just old; so whos driving this car? Fortifying The Spirits - Michael Ashby - A humorous poem . Don't know if your F-in-Law was a church go-er but a good single line quote from the great Dickie Bird is below "Nid siocled yw popeth brown." The peewees in the town park are distinctive in their call,And the magpie on a wattle pipe on this cool morning in the Fall,And for one who will not breathe again, the eulogy is read,And the funeral bell is tolling, in memory of the dead. The third candle we light in your memory: the times we laughed, the times we cried,the times we were angry towards each other, the silly things you did, and the caring and joy you gave us. Fly Like A Bird Javon Evans A poem detailing how wonderful and freeing it would be to fly.In Memoriam Victoria Bruce A poem encouraging mourners to think of the deceased in natures finer details.No Fear Of Flying anon A message from the deceased that they are no afraid to fly or to die. The Driver Graeme Cook A gorgeous poem for those who felt at one with their car, rather than merely driving it.Fast Car Jamie Blake A hectic poem ideal for some who drove fast and perhaps passed away in a motoring accident.Racing Car Poem Martin Dejnicki A poem about racing, perhaps Formula 1, and the adrenaline rush it produces.Whos Driving This Car? O you are not lying in the wet clay,For it is harvest evening now and weAre piling up the ricks against the moonlightAnd you smile up at us eternally. You filled our home with happinessand made our life complete.The time we had with youwas far too short, but oh so sweet. 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. These are my footprints, so perfect and so small.These tiny footprints, never touched the ground at all.Not one tiny footprint, for now I have my wings.These tiny footprints were meant for other things.You will hear my tiny footprints, in the patter of the rain.Gentle drops like angels tears, of joy and not from pain.You will see my tiny footprints, in each butterflies lazy dance.Ill let you know Im with you, if you give me just a chance.You will see my tiny footprints, in the rustle of the leaves.I will whisper names into the wind, and call each one that grieves.Most of all, these tiny footprints, are found in mummys heart,cause even though Im gone now, well never truly part. No tears to be shed,Only in cheer;Continueonthe path already ledEachonyour own veer. There are candles in the night,flickering souls fighting back the dark:these are the angels of the abyss,holding back the blackness that consumes us. Dear Lovely Death - Langston Hughes. White wings will carry you and you will be flown. If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,Or walk with Kingsnor lose the common touch,If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,If all men count with you, but none too much;If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything thats in it,Andwhich is moreyoull be a Man, my son! Green sod above, Lie light, lie light. Beyond anon A short verse signalling the hope that beyond the bad emotions there is peace and forgiveness.Dont Judge Me Kathleen Wilson A lament on behalf of someone who may have felt outcast or unaccepted.If I Had A Voice Caroline Wilkes A verse apologising for not always being the best person one could be.Time Will Ease The Hurt Bruce B Wilmer A verse suggesting that time helps painful memories fade away.When I Come To The End Mrs Lyman Hancock A verse urging mourners to remember the deceased at their best. 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. Ring out old shapes of foul disease;Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;Ring out the thousand wars of old,Ring in the thousand years of peace. Copyright 2023 Scattering Ashes or original authors | Powered by. My grandfather said that of those he could hire,Not a servant so faithful he found,For it wasted no time, and had but one desire At the close of each week to be wound.And it kept in its place not a frown upon its face,And its hands never hung by its side,But it stopped short never to go again When the old man died. In my kayak I find peaceOn the water, all is calmThe rhythm of the paddles releaseAll the stress and all the qualms. A line, a house would pass me byThe frustration could make a grown man cry! The referee needs no introductionOr whistle for a foul blowWhen God raises his eyebrowsNone argue with the penalty or throw. We wouldnt eat from a microwaveOr a restaurant down the streetWe all ate Mums home cookingAnd boy that cant be beat. The Fallen Limb anon A poem acting as a message from a recently deceased member of the family.A Family anon A poem focusing on the importance of family and the role it plays in our lives.The Family Chain anon A poem lamenting the breaking of the family chain following a family members death.No Bounds Mark Gregory A poem highlighting the boundless love that someone had for their family.A Tribute To Family Michele A. Moran A religious poem perfect for a couple whove produced many descendants. Fishing by William Henry Dawson. 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. The board is your target, not the mat,So, be careful what youre aiming at! 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. So be kind to your partners and dont mind their cheek.For its only a game Oh! And even though the price of time and consequences of agedenied his body its greatest love of life as wageit never quenched his firefighters soul of its wondrous and noble ragenor that intense need burning so deep in his heartto save each life and shelter from being another victory for a fires page. I Hold The Heights Geoffrey Winthrop Young An abridged version of the original which basks in the glory of hiking.Im Climbing A Mountain Andrew Blakemore An uplifting poem about the sights and sounds of a climb.So Well Go No More A-Climbing anon An adaptation of Lord Byrons original; a lament to a climbing partner. They help to capture the spirit of the person lost and express the feelings of the people left behind. The windows blurry, the odometers broke,The tires are bare; whos driving this car? Standing and waiting for the race of life to beginIm getting quite nervous.Am I going to win? I know how much it hurt your soulWhen we had to say goodbyeBut Im not gone, Im always hereI am your butterfly. At the moment of birth, I held you closeI looked into those eyes I saw myself, I saw your soulA bond that never dies. Smooth road; never mind the few bumps; and air so fresh you could eat it in lumps. The rain has blocked the doorAnd Aunt Bess continues to snore;What can we do that might be fun anew? Profanity : Our optional filter replaced words with *** on this page , What I hear as I type: Crickets Chirping. The ancients etched the wordsfor battle and victory onto their shields and then they went out. And now my race had endedSo much I have achievedI loved you all so very muchIt was so hard to leave. I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done. I have not lost the magic of long days,I live them, dream them stillStill I am a master of the starry ways,And freeman of the hills;Shattered my glass, ere half the sands had run.I hold the heights, I hold the heights, I won. You had your loves and had your dreams, You watched us come and go. The Trout Brook by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts. That taketh all things under wing. 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. A troublemaker, a teacher, a friend. Time for me to go now, I wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.In the morning sunrise when all the world is new,Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.Time for me to leave you, I wont say goodbye;Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky.In the evening sunset, when all the world is through,Just look for me and love me, and Ill be close to you.It wont be forever, the day will come and thenMy loving arms will hold you, when we meet again. Publication date 1905 Publisher London : Simpkin Collection cdl; americana Digitizing sponsor MSN Contributor University of California Libraries Language English. How did you do it all, Mum,Be a chauffeur, cook and friend,Yet find time to be a playmate?I just cant comprehend. Tiny Angel, look at me,I want this image clearThat I will forget your precious faceIs my biggest fear. The Trout Brook by Ralph E. McMillin. Nature would speak to usOur world would become onewith peace and understandingand a little bit of fun. The draping, it is perfectNo wrinkles will you seeA symbol of a nationA reminder that were free. With a nod of the head, or a grip of the hand,He will give you his bond, that for ever will stand,And nothing much safer youll find in the land;For that is the badge of a Yorkshireman. I liked a little gambleA bet I loved to placeA rush of the adrenalineI loved to watch the race, I studied all the formRunning heavy on the courseSometimes picking coloursAn eye on my favourite horse, For me it wasnt gamblingIt was a treasured way of lifeIt took my mind so far awayFrom trouble and from strife. And I would want to lead just right,And to know that I was true.So walk a little slower, Daddy,For I must follow you. Above all, Father Time, I prayWhen all is said and done,That we can all look back and sayBy eck, that game was fun!, by the players of East Leeds Cricket Club. When youre lost, when youre alone,and you can see nothing but the darkness,when the shadowy fingers of night reach out,to envelope you in their icy embrace,till every breath only causes you pain,and despair is your only loyal companion. I watch the magic happeningAs yarn becomes a shawl.The knitting needles of my auntAre at her beck and call. Cricket poems by Wilson, George Francis. 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! If you can keep your head when all about youAre losing theirs and blaming it on you,If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,But make allowance for their doubting too;If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,Or being lied about, dont deal in lies,Or being hated, dont give way to hating,And yet dont look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dreamand not make dreams your master;If you can thinkand not make thoughts your aim;If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterAnd treat those two impostors just the same;If you can bear to hear the truth youve spokenTwisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,And stoop and build em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winningsAnd risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,And lose, and start again at your beginningsAnd never breathe a word about your loss;If you can force your heart and nerve and sinewTo serve your turn long after they are gone,And so hold on when there is nothing in youExcept the Will which says to them: Hold on!. The photograph above was unearthed from the countless images to be found on the web. But here is your race medalFrom me with all my heartYoull wear my gold at every stepAnd we will never be apart. Sorry I had to cut the end off, but ARRSE only lets you post 10,000 characters at a time. When at last the harvest comesAs the fields receive the dew,A life well lived leaves legacyThe Masters plan in view. Use code HELLO54 when you join us as a print or digital member and your membership will be half price for the first year. Oh, on his toe the table is turning, the broomsBalancing up on his nose, and the plate whirlsOn the tip of the broom! 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. To the pearly gates of Heaven, where they will usher you in. Ah: badminton, tennis, andping-pong: obsessive,repetitive, & Kafkamight have invented tennis-scoring,Love equated with Zero, Fifteenpulled out of a surrealists head. Remember Me. Well see your smile in every rayOf sunshine after rainAnd hear the of echo of your laughterOver all the pain. The Lego builder, with skill and care,Constructed worlds, beyond compare,With towers tall, and cities fair:A legacy, to last and share. Stump and bail flashed and flew; Broken beyond repair? Rest there on the mossWhere the soft zephyrs tossThough circlet of beauty and prideWith thy invisible wingsAttached to thy stringsAre folded in peace at thy side. As I grew older so did he,But that man was always there for meHis love, unspoken, but strong and clear,Of that, I have no doubt or fear. To be free of regretIn your old age,Never ever forgetTo fully live today! Ill always be your mother,Hell always be your dad.You will always be our child,The child that we had. So, if youre searching for a poem for a grandmother, scroll down to G or hit Ctrl+F to find grandmother on this page; this can be done for someone who loved cricket, someone who suffered from Alzheimers, someone who brought laughter into everyones lives, or any other topic you can think of. It is right that she is loved: her courage shinesin all the maxims that she does not drawfrom sixty years to warn our present joy.In all her tales, her husband and three sonsquietly keep the graves she bought for them. 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. Top 10 Funeral Poems: Beautiful Poems for Funerals Im that little breeze in the summerAnd Im that unexpected white featherI plucked it from my downy wingsSo you remember; we are always together. Thousands of bells chimed from afarDistant, soft, and gentle they seemedThousands of steps stretched between usBut with ten thousand bells at my sideI would never be lost. Below are the all-time best Rugby poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. Where words fail,music speaks.It speaks of the pain,of the sorrow,of the lost,of the life we live.It shares emotions.Its a way to connect,to understandwhat others feel.Where words fail,music speaks.It tells the truthwhether you want it to or not.Music shares the soulsof those were around,of those in the worldthat were living.I wish to sharemy music with youSo you can understandthe pain I feel,so I can share my soul with you,so you can understandWhat Im going through. Poems for someone who had a full and successful life. The seats are saggy from long time use,The rear-views broken; whos driving this car? Fossils Peter Cullen A thought-provoking poem perhaps equating physical fossils to memories of the dead.Old Bones and Stones Mark Gregory A first-person poem about a passion for fossils and an acceptance of death.A Story Of The Past Charles Sternberg The first four stanzas of Sternbergs poem about finding God in fossil-hunting. 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.. I hope youre dancing in the skyAnd I hope youre singing in the angels choirAnd I hope the angels know what they haveIll bet its so nice up in heaven since you arrivedI hope you are dancing in the sky. Poems about people who liked a drink in a healthy way. Did you say 'over'? Alcohol. You radiate warmth like a blazing fire.You are courage and wisdom. Dedicated To Our Fallen Heroes Katharine Blohm A poem written for the Clearview Volunteer Fire Department.Fallen Rick Hoffman Jr. A lament to a fallen firefighter who served his community proudly.Fallen Brother anon A poem dedicated to a firefighter called Chuck that is apt for any fire man or woman.The Firefighters Last Call William Robbins A poem about the final act of a brave firefighter.A Firefighters Last Words Michael Ashby A rousing call to appreciate the lifes work of a firefighter.Heroes Gone anon A poem filled with sadness and pride from a fallen firefighter to his colleagues.To Be A Fireman Edward F. Crocker A short poem about the how being a firefighter is a noble calling. 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. I think about all the things Ill miss,your smile, your laugh, your kiss. We didnt eat in front of the TVOr with a phone in our handWe werent plugged into a stereobopping to the latest band. Just to prove myfriendship is true to have a friend like you! I was just an average batsman, and a less than average fielder. Theres a comedy book, Penguins Stop Play. Shimano SPD Cleats SH51 MTB SPD - Single Release, Fresh Goods Friday 642 Cake For Me, Corned Beef For You, Whats Open At Glentress? Full of grace, never hasteFilling perfectly my costume of laceEver so sweet, my dancing feetStep after step, I repeat and repeat. 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. We laughed we joked we talked we ateWe were a family dont you seeThough some may have been raised poorYou can see it wasnt me. One, two, three, four,Getting older now, cant take any more,Five, six, seven, eight,Model life is done, it was truly great. Foster A poem for a child born with a disability who is lost to the world too soon. Crossword Blindness anon A poem about the struggles of figuring out that one clue that has you stumped.My Pencil Is Ready Ilene Bauer A poem about the joys of puzzling, written for National Crossword Puzzle Day.My Trusty Pencil Ilene Bauer Another poem by Bauer about the necessities of a pencil while doing crosswords.

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