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The Grey World
Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.
Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.
Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.
poem by Leon Gellert
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A Chord of Colour
My Lady clad herself in grey,
That caught and clung about her throat;
Then all the long grey winter day
On me a living splendour smote;
And why grey palmers holy are,
And why grey minsters great in story,
And grey skies ring the morning star,
And grey hairs are a crown of glory.
My Lady clad herself in green,
Like meadows where the wind-waves pass;
Then round my spirit spread, I ween,
A splendour of forgotten grass.
Then all that dropped of stem or sod,
Hoarded as emeralds might be,
I bowed to every bush, and trod
Amid the live grass fearfully.
My Lady clad herself in blue,
Then on me, like the seer long gone,
The likeness of a sapphire grew,
The throne of him that sat thereon.
Then knew I why the Fashioner
Splashed reckless blue on sky and sea;
And ere 'twas good enough for her,
He tried it on Eternity.
Beneath the gnarled old Knowledge-tree
Sat, like an owl, the evil sage:
'The World's a bubble,' solemnly
He read, and turned a second page.
'A bubble, then, old crow,' I cried,
'God keep you in your weary wit!
'A bubble--have you ever spied
'The colours I have seen on it?'
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sometimes It feels
Sometimes it feels as if precious moments
are stretched out into pieces of eternity,
as if a sunset, a smile, even sexual ecstasy
reaches out to something greater
as if at times
we are more than only humans,
as if our love
can bind much stronger than death
but we are actually only like travellers
who spend a time in this world,
just visiting this earth
before everything ends,
as we are programmed from scratch
to decay with time
and at a time grey hairs appear,
when the beauty of maturity starts to disappear.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sorrow
Why does the thin grey strand
Floating up from the forgotten
Cigarette between my fingers,
Why does it trouble me?
Ah, you will understand;
When I carried my mother downstairs,
A few times only, at the beginning
Of her soft-foot malady,
I should find, for a reprimand
To my gaiety, a few long grey hairs
On the breast of my coat; and one by one
I let them float up the dark chimney.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Care brings on grey hairs, and age without years.
Frustration
Frustrated again –
Unemployed and unmarried
Hairs are all but grey!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Regrets are the natural property of grey hairs.
quote by Charles Dickens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morse Moose & The Grey Goose
Right on down at the bottom of the sea
Tell me are you receiving me?
My name is morse moose and Im calling you
The grey goose was a steady boat
People said shes never float
One night when the moon was high
The grey goose flew away
As we were sailing round the rocks
The mate took out his compass box
And said the wind is like a fox
But the grey goose flew away
When out upon the open sea
The admiral, the mate and me
Prepared to face eternity
But the grey goose flew away
She flew into the stormy sea
Davy jones was calling me
But heading for tranquility
The grey goose flew away
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To his Girls
Wanton wenches do not bring
For my hairs black colouring :
For my locks, girls, let 'em be
Grey or white, all's one to me.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Grey, Grey Sky
Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.
And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.
And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.
My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.
And I will be riding that bird
Bird of the sky, bird of the grey
And I will come home once again
Home to the grey, grey sky.
But for now I am weighted, earthbound
One of the mud, one of the ground
And I write this sad song to sad sound
Girl of the pavement sighs.
poem by Grace Hutton
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Gray hairs are signs of wisdom if you hold your tongue, speak and they are but hairs, as in the young.
quote by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Gift of Love
Your gift to me after all these years,
The arguments, the making-up, the laughter and the tears,
All the days and nights of love, and every precious hour,
Just some old, grey pubic hairs at the bottom of our shower.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Old Age
Grey hairs
Lonely
Lovesick
Worried
Many thoughts
Fewer talks
Fewer hopes
Fewer friends
Less will to live
The only thing
That keeps me going
On the zigzag way of life
Is the desire to be loved.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Queen Of Spades, The
When the church bells toll,
I dream I'll tap my feet,
So no one hears the howl
Germinating from my
heartbeat,
I'll await our kiss of unity,
At the end of the aisle,
I'd have waited an eternity,
But it will be worthwhile
We'll count the stars
together-
All the hairs on our heads,
In you my children have a mother,
And I- a queen of spades
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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Love Doesn't End With Death
Love doesn’t end with death, Mother
Said. A few days had gone since Father’s
Demise and you stood in their room
While she sat on her bed and did her hair.
She stopped in mid brush and cried.
I wish it was me, you said, at least then
You’d still have him to love. She looked
Round at you and said, then I’d be grieving
For you. It’s still grief no matter who
Goes or stays, she said. She wiped her
Eyes and brushed her hair once more
Looking at herself in the mirror. We never
Appreciate the time we have with people
Until they’ve gone, she muttered, half to
Herself and half to you. Ordinary days are
Best because they’re more plentiful,
She continued, looking at you through
The mirror’s view. You noticed the first grey
Hairs appearing where she’d brushed last,
Sitting there amongst hairs brunette.
Now she sits unaware of days gone by
Or grief; dementia’s done its work so well
That all is wiped clean from brain and head.
She’s unaware of being alive herself let
Alone Father not being there or being dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Licentious Person
Thy sins and hairs may no man equal call ;
For, as thy sins increase, thy hairs do fall.
poem by John Donne
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Receptacle of Bliss
grey - there is a blessing
in the cloudy weather
when the sun hides itself
behind soothing colours
when cottons seem to cover
the sky in such softness,
stretching the indeterminable
distance between white and gray
at the beach, against the
heavens, your endearing
characteristic evokes an eternity
bathes me in a receptacle of euphoria
your charms, down to earth
temperament erase the temporal world
swarming bliss in a wide expanse of grey
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Rihana
I am coming back
with the girl who lured
the city with her song
I grabbed her
As she oozed down
from the disco party
And just like her painted hairs
I yearned to be free
while rooted in her..
the strands of her hair used to
dance with all the rogue winds..
I have to steal
the menstrual blood of spring
to redden her lips
that were charred
by the kiss of summer
There is only a single room
in the thatched house
when I returned with the girl
who lured the city with her song
Sitting on its steps
that are plastered dry with cow dung
May be I will blacken her hair
with medicated oil.
During noontimes,
while I comb
and count her hairs one by one,
I will put to death
the lice I find there
and will claim that her body
was solely my own home
While thus crossing boredom
once, when I find a grey hair
from her head
Maybe I will pluck them all out
without her knowing it
When she comes to know of it
Maybe she will paint
those strands of her hair,
But never will she attempt
to lure the cities again.
poem by Sujeesh nm92
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