Grey
Looking at an opal, a half-grey opal,
I remembered two beautiful grey eyes
I had seen it must have been twenty years before . . .
For a month we loved each other
Then he went away, I think to Smyrna,
To work there; we never saw each other again.
The grey eyes ---- if he lives ---- have lost their beauty;
The beautiful face will have been spoiled.
O Memory, preserve them as they were.
And, Memory, all you can of this love of mine
Whatever you can bring back to me tonight.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Related quotes
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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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
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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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Grey Blue Eyes
I feel for the light
Your glory was lost that night
And no mind can't get me right
And now I'm praying that you'll find me out
Stone, stone has pulled me down
But my faith has got me bound to your grey blue eyes
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Don't forget my broken heart
You remember it from the start
You made it and it's all a part
Of your grey blue eyes
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
You're gone and I know I'm dead
I've lost my way
Can't find me in your grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
Grey blue eyes
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Queensland Opal
Opal, little opal, with the red fire glancing,
Set my blood a-spinning, set my pulse a-stir,
Strike the harp of memory, set my dull heart dancing
Southward to the Sunny Land and the love of Her!
Opal, shining opal, let them call you luckless jewel,
Let them curse or let them covet, you are still my heart's desire,
You that robbed the sun and moon and green earth for fuel
To gather to your milky breast and fill your veins with fire!
Green of fluttering gum-leaves above dim water-courses,
Red of rolling dust-clouds, blue of summer skies,
Flash of flints afire beneath the hoofs of racing horses,
Sunlight and moonlight and light of lovers' eyes
Pink clasping hands amid a Southern summer gloaming,
Green of August grasses, white of dew-sprung pearls,
Grey of winging wild geese into the Sunset homing,
Twined with all the kisses of a Queen of Queensland girls!
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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Mr. Big Toe Meets Opal Octopus
Mr. Big Toe notices eight legs sticking out of the sand,
he goes over and gives Opal octopus a hand.
Opal was washed up close to shore,
Mr. Big Toe introduces himself and hands her an ore.
Opal says “Hi, and starts to smile, ”
they start to laugh and chat for awhile.
Opal says she is friends with Majesty and Sarah Star,
Mr. Big Toe replies “I ate with them on Tuesday
at Dave’s Restaurant which is not far.”
“It is only down on Lake Ave. in downtown,
it is the best eating experience I have found.
Opal replies back, “That sounds like you all had a fun day,
I will have to find them and bring them back your way”.
Then Opal jumps back with her eight legs into the sea,
she waves to Big Toe and yells “Thank You Mr. Big Toe,
I will say Hi for you to Sarah Star and Majesty.”
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. Toe Meets Opal Octopus
Big Toe notices eight legs sticking out of the sand,
he goes over and gives Opal octopus a hand.
Opal was washed up close to shore,
Big Toe introduces himself and hands her an ore.
Opal says “Hi, and starts to smile, ”
they start to laugh and chat for awhile.
Opal says she is friends with Majesty and Sarah Star,
Big Toe replies “I ate with them on Tuesday
at Dave’s Restaurant which is not far.”
“It is only down on Lake Ave. in downtown,
it is the best eating experience I have found.
Opal replies back, “That sounds like you all had a fun day,
I will have to find them and bring them back your way”.
Then Opal jumps back with her eight legs into the sea,
she waves to Big Toe and yells “Thank You Big Toe,
I will say Hi for you to Sarah Star and Majesty.”
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Ode to Greybeard
After leaving the convenience store, we smoked cigarettes insatiately, and were approached by a man with a long grey face, pink from the chilled wind.
Homeless, the man made due with a pile of jackets.
Spare a cigarette? He asked, like clockwork. And received what he bade for.
Without breaking his sight of his caretaker's eyes, he bit the filter out of the end and inhaled so deeply, he must have drank the smoke.
Thanks, pal - crept out from under his mustache and snuck by his cigarette.
His eyes turned slowly to meet mine and were as grey as his beard.
- Remember me when I die
He spoke also - with his eyes.
And mine spoke back - he knew I would
A legacy is only memory.
poem by C.S. Smith
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Shelly Meets Opal Octopus
Shelly notices eight legs sticking out of the sand,
she goes over and gives Opal octopus a hand.
Opal was washed up close to shore,
Shelly introduces herself and hands her an ore.
Opal says “Hi, and starts to smile, ”
they start to laugh and chat for awhile.
Opal says she is friends with Majesty and Sarah Star,
Shelly replies “I swam with them on Tuesday
to the Lantana bridge which is not far.”
Opal replies back, “That sounds like you all had a fun day,
I will have to find them and bring them back your way”.
Then Opal jumps back with her eight legs into the sea,
she waves to Shelly and yells “Thank You Shelly,
I will say Hi for you to Sarah Star and Majesty.”
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Shades of Grey
Black is the color of the night
Grey is the shadow of you I sight
White is the shirt you wear
Black is your suit I declare
White is the wall you lean against
Grey is our path I sensed
Black is the memory I lost
Black is the road we never crossed
Grey is the prospect of the day
Grey is the taxi driving away
Black is the truth to never find you
Black is everything I can't undo
Black is my room without light
White is my color of hope in spite
Grey is the circle around my heart
Black is the truth like a work of art
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Shelly Meets Opal Octopus
Shelly notices eight legs sticking out of the sand,
she goes over and gives Opal octopus a hand.
Opal was washed up close to shore,
Shelly introduces herself and hands her an ore.
Opal says “Hi, and starts to smile, ”
they start to laugh and chat for awhile.
Opal says she is friends with Majesty and Sarah Star,
Shelly replies “I swam with them on Tuesday
to the Lantana bridge which is not far.”
Opal replies back, “That sounds like you all had a fun day,
I will have to find them and bring them back your way”.
Then Opal jumps back with her eight legs into the sea,
she waves to Shelly and yells “Thank You Shelly,
I will say Hi for you to Sarah Star and Majesty.”
Written By Suzae Chevalier on January 13,2011
www.christinapoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Rainbow
I live at one of those Grey Clouds
Not really know that I am lifeless
I heard people talking about rainbow,
They’d met each other, always in a happy occasion
I wish I met the rainbow myself
Then perhaps I would know,
What the people say is not true
That there is no thing such rainbow,
That could make people’s eyes glittering
In Blue color of the sky
In Green color of the valley
In Red color of the blood
In Yellow color of the sun
I am belongs to the Grey Clouds
I Love Grey, as it is all the color I have in life
Then one day, at the ticking time of my ordinary Grey-day
I see something really bright,
With the scent of a precious flower I’d lost in the mist
For a moment I’m overwhelmed
Then I took a step further…
Away from something so beautiful, that wasn’t Grey
But the figure reveal and I stranded there
I Never learn that there are many color one’s could posses
Day goes by,
The Grey Cloud is the latest place I’d like to be
It was the rainbow…
Holding me and warm me
With a lot of bunch of dream in my empty mind
Dream I never knew
Dream I never dare to explore
The forbidden dream for my Grey outfit
I’m content with joys,
The first time I ever feel grand to face my life
My heart reflecting the color of rainbow
Blue for the peace soul
Green for the new beginning
Red for the faith
Yellow for a bright hope
Not very long
The thunder strikes,
The lightning burned my rainbow
All was Grey again
The rainbow gone away
Prefer to have a quite-smooth journey with all its color
While the thunder sent me here
Back to the Grey Clouds
poem by Niken Kusuma Wardani
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Grey Skies
Grey skies
Skies are grey, rain all day, perfect time to sit and pray.
It matters not, if you’re at home or in your car.
Receiving CHRIST is the best thing by far.
Open your heart and pray to him
For all your needs and desires
He will put out that flaming fire.
And when you feel that your problems
Are as grey as the skies, and the tears fall from your eyes
And it seems that life is not worth living
And you are so tired of giving.
Look through the grey rainy day
Inside you a small voice will say
“ I am here to lead the way
For tomorrow is another day
And when you see the sky a beautiful blue
It’s because I created it for you.
So don’t give up, don’t despair
For when you
poem by Louis Rams
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Grey Eyes
SHE glanced across the path to me,
Grey eyes!
Her looks were kisses plain to see.
I gave her glances back to her—
Glad eyes!
She saw the lifting of despair.
From memory a face looked out,
Dim eyes!
No years could sour that love to doubt.
My soul would nevermore be lone—
Bride's eyes!
Hearts still were waiting for my own.
Our souls uncurtained then, perchance—
Deep eyes!
Each built an epoch in a glance.
Out of her fellowship so free
Light eyes!
She gave some gladness unto me.
And I gave? As we turned apart—
Dead eyes!
I saw the shudder in her heart.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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Funmilola
SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT YOU WILL WANT TO KEEP LOOKING AT HER, HER SMILE BRING SMILE TO EVERY LIPS.HER EYES WONT EVER MAKE HER WANT TO LIE.HER BEAUTY IS LIKE A ROSE IN FULL BLOOM, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT WHEN OUR CREATOR THOUGHT OF BEAUTY HE SAW ONLY HER.SHE IS WONDERFULY MADE, GOD MADE HER SMILE OF THE SUNSHINE, AND HE MAOLDED HER HEART OF PURE GOLD, IN HER EYES HE PLACED BRIGHT SHINING STARS, IN HER CHEEKS FAIR ROSE YOU SEE.SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT IF A THOUSAND PAINTER WORK FOR A MILLION YEARS THEY COULD NOT CREATE A WORK OF ART AS BEAUTIFUL AS HER.SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS VIRGIN SAND, SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS RAINBOW FULL OF COLOURS, SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS STARS FILLED THE SKY, SHE IS AS BEAUTIFUL AS BLOOMING FLOWER.OH BEAUTIFUL HER NAME WAS CALLED, SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL, SHE SPEAK OF BEAUTY, SHE SLEEP IN BEAUTY, , SHE WALK IN BEAUTY, SHE LIVE IN BEAUTY.SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT THEIR IS NO FLOWER THAT CAN BE COMPARED TO HER BEAUTY, SHE IS REINCANATION OF AN ANGEL, FAIREST OF ALL, GODESS OF BEAUTIES, EXQUISITE BEAUTY LIKE SUNSHINE.
poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
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You Are Most Beautiful When You Hurt
You are most beautiful
When you hurt
When your eyes fight back the tears
When your heart moans pathetically
When you cannot confront your fears
You are most beautiful
When you hurt
When you plunge in the infinite darkness of
Loneliness
And your existence is invaded by
Hopelessness
And you become a tormented dark thing
You are most beautiful
When you hurt
When you float in the grey depths of sadness
Like a lost creature
Rich in feeling
Beautiful!
poem by Anahita Tahmasbi
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Cry Nature's Angel, Cry
Thine opal eyes weep sparkling tears
Pervading the petals of a violet anemone
Forming stars of dew, as old as years
Thy twin beauty, the new Gemini
Untrammeled by the indifference of snow
Superb in vitality of color's soul
Thy purple heart of harmony glow
Surpassing nature and her earth whole
Vivid thy grow to my imagination
Into a realm, an illustrious glory
Undisturbed, like an magic fascination
Thy beauty tells all love's story
Thy opal eyes weep into dew
Preserving color and beauty
through and through
Cry nature's angel, cry
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Grey Wolves Grey
The Russian march is soft and slow,
Through dust and heat, or slush and snow,
When the Russian skies hang grey and low
To the frontiers far where the Russians go;
And they march to-night and they march to-day
Like the grey wolves grey, like the grey wolves grey.
Nor song nor sound their track reveals,
Save the ceaseless “clock” of the waggon wheels;
But a rift in the mist shows a glint of sun
On the long, dark shape of a toiling gun;
And they strain by night and they drag by day
To a distant goal, like the grey wolves grey.
As the horses toil at the ends of trains,
And the ends of roads on the Blacksoil Plains.
And Ivan digs in the frozen clay,
And he rolls the logs a bed to lay
For a gun that’s five hundred miles away,
But as sure to come as the grey wolves grey.
He is marching on with a purpose grand,
For brother Slav in another land;
Whose tongue, perchance, he cannot understand.—
But he knows the cry from the far-away,
And he smells the blood like the grey wolves grey.
And Ivan’s wife in her den at home,
While hunger looms and his lean wolves come—
With her grey-black bread like the Darling mud,
And her tea-bricks bound with the bullock’s blood—
She shields her cubs by night and day
Like the crouching sluts of the grey wolves grey.
And I march with Ivan where’er he be,
With the foreign blood that is strong in me,
And the love and the hate that is fantasy,
Like the ghosts of a father’s memory.
With the blood that is strange to us to-day
As the strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey.
Grey wolves,
Grey wolves—
The strange wild blood of the grey wolves grey.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Grey
Grey road stretched through grey rain.
Grey rain fell though grey mist.
Grey mist enveloped all,
all the eye could see,
all the land,
all the sky
and me.
Grey covered all,
all the way down to the sea.
Glimpsed through grey the swell of the ocean,
riding the waves a wind surfer surfing,
chopping, fighting the crests with swift motion
skirting the spray, sail unfurling.
Stopping, I stared at that sight in the mist,
oh how he came dancing over the sea,
right through the rain a state of sheer bliss,
the wondrous frolic rippling throughout me
making me tingle right down deep inside.
That misty image ripped all grey apart
a glorious vision of freedom untied,
returning tremendous joy to my heart
filling me up, bringing tears to my eyes,
emerging from grey a great love of life.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Secret Sorrows
Her eyes grey/blue and like the sea.
Their colours changing constantly.
They sparkle when she's having fun
Like water droplets in the sun.
At other times they darken to grey
Because her mind is far away.
Completely lost in reverie
Reliving some sad memory.
Secret sorrows she won't share
Perhaps because she does not dare.
I think in time she will decide.
She no longer needs to hide.
What happened to her long ago.
The time has come to let it go.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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