Peter John Bunker
Peter John Bunker
Loving father to Sandra and Susan, Grandfather to Jason, Karen, Julie, David and Jemma and a Great-Grandfather. He will be sadly missed by many.
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Loving father to Sandra and Susan, Grandfather to Jason, Karen, Julie, David and Jemma and a Great-Grandfather. He will be sadly missed by many.
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When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure. Pete is at rest now reunited with his beloved Joan.
Thinking of all the family and remembering our happy times as neighbours. God Bless.
Peter and I have been friends for many years. Our shared hobbies of St Mary’s Choir and freemasonry found us often together and Peter was always good company and held in high regard by all who knew him. His passing probably marks the last of the ‘old choir’ at St Mary’s. He still regarded himself as a member and was often mentioned by other choristers. He had a fine voice, which was much appreciated.
He was on the prayer list at St Mary’s and was prayed for and thought of every day. May he rest in peace and be re-united with Joan.
My condolences to Sue, Sandra and Sylvia and their families.
I shall miss Peter’s friendship. but pleased that I had him as a friend.
Danny Smith
Peter and I have been friends for many years. Our shared hobbies of St Mary’s Choir and freemasonry found us often together and Peter was always good company and held in high regard by all who knew him. His passing probably marks the last of the ‘old choir’ at St Mary’s. He still regarded himself as a member and was often mentioned by other choristers. He had a fine voice, which was much appreciated.
He was on the prayer list at St Mary’s and was prayed for and thought of every day. May he rest in peace and be re-united with Joan.
My condolences to Sue, Sandra and Sylvia and their families.
I shall miss Peter’s friendship. but pleased that I had him as a friend.
“The Final Inspection”
The policeman stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining.
Just as brightly as his brass.
“Step forward now, policeman.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My church have you been true?”
The policeman squared his shoulders and said,
“No, Lord, I guess I ain’t,
Because those of us who carry badges
can’t always be a saint.
I’ve had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was rough,
and sometimes I’ve been violent,
Because the streets are awfully tough.
But I never took a penny,
That wasn’t mine to keep….
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I’ve wept unmanly tears.
I know I don’t deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fear.
If you’ve a place for me here,
Lord, It needn’t be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don’t…..I’ll understand.
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod.
As the policeman waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
“Step forward now, policeman,
You’ve borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven’s streets,
You’ve done your time in hell.”