Mom
Grey hair…
Red wrinkled cheeks
Warm smile, always ready
Oer the years, days and weeks
Time worn fingers
Thin gold band… so old
That’s my mom… made with hugs
Wrapped round a heart of gold
poem by David Whalen
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Related quotes
Pretty in Placerville
Hands are made for grasping
Gold, dust in brown canvass bags, nuggets
For teeth impressions.
Dust trails lead in and out
Of toil and thirst. The thirst for
Gold, soul of the merciless mine.
The gold is mine.
My fingers are worn short
From rolling in the abrasives;
My lips made thin by kissing
The sun come down to earth.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Golden Years
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel
Come here baby
Look at that sky, life's begun
Nights are warm and the days are young
Come here baby
There's my baby, lost that's all
Once I'm begging you save her little soul
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come here baby
Last night they loved you, opening doors and pulling some strings, angel
Come here baby
In walked luck and you looked in time
Never look back, walk tall, act fine
Come here baby
I'll stick with you baby for a thousand years
Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years, gold
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come here baby
Some of these days, and it won't be long
Gonna drive back down where you once belonged
In the back of a dream car twenty foot long
Don't cry my sweet, don't break my heart
Doing all right, but you gotta get smart
Wish upon, wish upon, day upon day, I believe oh lord
I believe all the way
Come here baby
There's my baby, lost that's all
Once I'm begging you save her little soul
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
Come here baby
Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel
Come get up my baby
Run for the shadows, run for the shadows
Run for the shadows in these golden years
I'll stick with you baby for a thousand years
Nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years, gold
Golden years, gold whop whop whop
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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What Was It?
You are one of the unknown sisters of halo's
An Earth Angel who walked this Earth for 59 years and some months
Your every step-sheer grace in motion;
Your relish for life -undeniable...
Like the warm breeze caressing my summering shoulders-you come to me-
In a muted blur of gold and blue...
Radiance shining through with the sunshine that is your smile;
Your eyes coming alive-yes, alive...in sky blue
Your flaxen gold hair much like summer wheat at fruition;
What was it about you that still resides with me here today?
Was it your gentle spirit of love and forgiveness?
Or your always joy-filled soul?
Or was it all of these plus your unconditional love & enormous heart?
The tears still well up in my green eyes, daily...
Wishing that you could be here with me this day
To share a cup of coffee, a sandwich, and one of your hugs!
Thank you for loving me then and now...!
You will always be the gateway to the smiles, joy, love and laughter
Of my life...
poem by Theodora Onken
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Fields Of Gold
Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
Youll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in the fields of gold
So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
Well forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in the fields of gold
See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that Ive broken
But I swear in the days still left
Well walk in the fields of gold
Well walk in the fields of gold
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
Youll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
When we walked in the fields of gold
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Band Of Gold
(r. dunbar & e. wayne)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
Now that youve gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
And the memories
Of what love could be
If you were
Still here with me
You took me from the shelter of a mother I had never known
The love of any other
We kissed after taking vows
But that night on our honeymoon
We stayed in separate rooms
I waited in the darkness of my lonely room
Filled with sadness, filled with gloom
Hoping soon
That youd walk back through that door
And love me
Liked you tried before
Since youve been gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
And the dream of what love could be
If you were still here with me
Since youve been gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bush Hay
The stamp of Scotland is on his face,
But he sailed to the South a lad,
And he does not think of the black bleak hills
And the bitter hard youth he had;
He thinks of a nearer and dearer past
In the bright land far away,
When the teams went up and the teams came down,
In the days when they made bush hay.
The fare was rough and the bush was grim
In the “years of his pilgrimage”,
But he gained the strength that is still with him
In his hale, late middle age.
He thinks of the girl at the halfway inn
They use as a barn to-day—
Oh, she was a dumpling and he was thin
In the days when they made bush hay.
The ration teams to the Bathurst Plains
Were often a fortnight full.
And they branched all ways in the early days
And back to the port with wool.
They watched for the lights of old Cobb & Co.
That flashed to the West away,
When drivers drove six on a twelve-mile stage
In the days when they made bush hay.
He has made enough, and he’s sold his claim,
And he goes by the morning train,
From the gold-field town in the sultry West
To his home by the sea again,
Where a bustling old body’s expecting him
Whose hair is scarcely grey,
And she was the girl of the halfway house
In the days when they made bush hay.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Mother's Hair Has Turned To Silver
Mother's hair has turned to silver
Her skin is all wrinkled and cold
But i'd never trade my mother
For the world and all its gold. Yes her hair has turned to silver
Her face is all covered with lines
But there'll never be another
Like this gray haired mother of mine. I think of all the hardships
I have caused her to bare
Then I can see the reasons
For the silver in her hair. Mother's hair has turned to silver
And her hard working days are done
But there's still a smile on her face
And a love for everyone.
poem by Kenneth Rickard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For The Band
Now for the question
That just won't go away
"So what are we
Gonna do today?"
Cuz it seems like
For the last four years
We've had far much
Less stuff to say
I know I always come out
Like a pessimist
But there is always something else
That's leading up to this
Chris used to come
To all the local shows
Back when the days were simpler
Do you remember?
[Chorus]
Those days are gone but Chris is not
And now he's got big hair
And in fact along with that
He's developed a severe disliking for
FOR THE BAND! (For the Band x3)
And I don't like, how it seems like
Anything and everything is always
For the band
FOR THE BAND! (For the Band x3)
I don't like, how it seems like
Anything and everything is always
For the band
So don't think I'm going to
Sit and complain
When there's so many
Good things left to say
But watch closely
As I refrain
From forgetting who I am along the way
[Chorus]
Those days are gone but Chris is not
And now he's got big hair
And in fact along with that
He's developed a severe disliking for
FOR THE BAND! (For the Band x3)
And I don't like, how it seems like
Anything and everything is always
For the band
FOR THE BAND! (For the Band x3)
I don't like, how it seems like
Anything and everything is always
For the band
She sat me down and said to me
I think you've misplaced your identity
Cuz what you do isn't all of who
You really are
Cuz everyday is just the same to me
We're playing sloppily
And singing out of key
Everyday is just the same to me
We're playing sloppily
We're singing out of key
[Revised Chorus]
Those days are gone but Chris is not
And now he's got big hair
And in fact along with that
He's developed a severe disliking for
YOU KNOW WHAT! (For the Band x3)
And I don't like, how it seems like
Anything and everything is always
For the band
FOR THE BAND! (For the Band x3)
I don't like, how it seems like
Anything and everything is always
For the band
song performed by by Relient K
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gold
Pale gold of the walls, gold
of the centers of daisies, yellow roses
pressing from a clear bowl. All day
we lay on the bed, my hand
stroking the deep
gold of your thighs and your back.
We slept and woke
entering the golden room together,
lay down in it breathing
quickly, then
slowly again,
caressing and dozing, your hand sleepily
touching my hair now.
We made in those days
tiny identical rooms inside our bodies
which the men who uncover our graves
will find in a thousand years,
shining and whole.
poem by Donald Hall
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Your Freindship To Me
if stars are bright and a mornin sunshines are warm and soothing ur smile is both bright and warm and soothing all at once if being around a treasure is great then being around u would feel that way to know u is treasure all the treasure id ever want or need for gold or silver or other riches wouldnt interest me as much as i mam interested in you if mother teresa had a heart of gold and st peter did good thigns for god then to me ur both like them but not them to me i think ur better then for u shine breighter then gold and seem holier then any saint could ever b to me thnk u for being a friend
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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If I Were Gold
If I were Gold
I wonder my worth
Before men alike
Probably I’d be so cherished by them so much.
If I were gold
I would definitely be so precious
Compared by Men for superiority
And worn so gallantly by all around.
If I were gold
I wonder the worth of carat
I’d be by now
A twenty-four carat, or one less pure
If I were gold
I’d definitely by found all around the world
Doing my best piece
And decorating the best amongst the best.
If I were gold
I’d probably be a must for the high and mighty
And also a source of quarrel amongst them
‘Cos non-would be more content with me around.
If I were gold
I wonder how priced I’d be
And probably kept in the strongest safe
And most probably in the choicest Swiss bank.
If I were gold
I’d probably be worn by Men of class
While still adorning some choicest parts of the body
And being priced by all I come in contact with
If I were gold
No matter how rigorous it takes to make me pure
And how costly it is to acquire me around
I’d definitely put a simile on faces all over the world.
If I were gold
No matter how tarnished and tainted I may be
I’d still find a place in the hearts of all so dear
And be a pride to many anyway
poem by Okeke Emmanuel
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Plain Gold Ring
Earl s. burroughs
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
It was where everyone could see
He belonged to someone, but not me
On his hand was a plain gold band
Plain gold ring has a story to tell
It was one that I knew too well
In my heart it will never be spring
Long as he wears a plain gold ring
Oh, oh
When nighttime comes a callin on me
I know why I will never be free
I cant stop these teardrops of mine
Im gonna love him till the end of time
Plain gold ring has but one thing to say
Ill remember till my dying day
In my heart it will never be spring
Long as he wears a plain gold ring
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty Days
Twenty days are barely gone,
I was merry all the day.
Folly was my butt of scorn.
Now the fool myself I play.
Wit and learning ruled my head,
Logic and economy.
All the books I ever read
Taught me only vanity.
Most of all it moved my mirth
Womankind the world should rule.
Man, the lord of all the Earth!
He, forsooth, a woman's tool!
Cherry lip and glancing eye!
What were rosy cheeks to me?
Beauty's truth was but a lie--
Witness tomes of history!
Twenty days had barely run.
Twenty years they well might be.
All my wisdom was undone,
Reason bade good--night to me.
Her hair was of the red red gold,
Her blue eyes looked me through and through.
She was twenty--three years old,
I was twenty years and two.
Fortune, fame, I freely give,
Honour's self, if so she please,
Sweetly in her smile to live
Other twenty days like these.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Heart Of Gold
He is a man forced to live with the rats
But he is dying for a smile from you
He is a man without a home in his life
Is that a reason to walk on the line
Its like a game - dont mess around
Dont be a fool so just go on
No life of double standard what hes looking for
Only a dream of tender delight
No more a bloody fool in this dirty town
So get away take your own line
Hard is the game - dont turn around
You make the rules so hold your ground
Hes got a heart of gold
The brain to realize he leads the better life
Hes got a heart of gold
So free your mind - live with a smile
Heart of gold - just like a diamond in the rough
He is dying for a touch from you
No more a bloody fool in this God damned town
Please be strong for just one time
So play this game and move the pawns
Its up to you so just go on
Hes got a heart of gold
The heart to free his soul, the heart to reach the goal
Sweet little a heart of gold
So free and fine - live with a smile
Live with a smile on your face
Hard is the game - dont turn around
No more a fool so just go on
Hes got a heart of gold
The brain to realize he leads the better life
Hes got a heart of gold
So free your mind - live with a smile
Hes got a heart of gold
The heart to free his soul, the heart to reach the goal
Sweet little a heart of gold
So free and fine - live with a smile
Just live with a smile on your face
He is dying for a smile from you
So just go on - go on - go on
With your heart of gold
Dont turn around
You make the rules so hold your ground
Sweet little a heart of gold
Sweet little a heart of gold
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever the days...
Forever the days are numbered and cold,
As the years grow long, they are old.
Years are old, ancient, and godly.
They are gold, and are days that are nights.
What gold do you see in the days?
And what night is so golden that the black sky
Shines - the Moonlight.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Martin
When I am tired of earnest men,
Intense and keen and sharp and clever,
Pursuing fame with brush or pen
Or counting metal disks forever,
Then from the halls of Shadowland
Beyond the trackless purple sea
Old Martin's ghost comes back to stand
Beside my desk and talk to me.
Still on his delicate pale face
A quizzical thin smile is showing,
His cheeks are wrinkled like fine lace,
His kind blue eyes are gay and glowing.
He wears a brilliant-hued cravat,
A suit to match his soft grey hair,
A rakish stick, a knowing hat,
A manner blithe and debonair.
How good that he who always knew
That being lovely was a duty,
Should have gold halls to wander through
And should himself inhabit beauty.
How like his old unselfish way
To leave those halls of splendid mirth
And comfort those condemned to stay
Upon the dull and sombre earth.
Some people ask: "What cruel chance
Made Martin's life so sad a story?"
Martin? Why, he exhaled romance,
And wore an overcoat of glory.
A fleck of sunlight in the street,
A horse, a book, a girl who smiled,
Such visions made each moment sweet
For this receptive ancient child.
Because it was old Martin's lot
To be, not make, a decoration,
Shall we then scorn him, having not
His genius of appreciation?
Rich joy and love he got and gave;
His heart was merry as his dress;
Pile laurel wreaths upon his grave
Who did not gain, but was, success!
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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You Remind Me Of Gold
Baby, when I think about you
And thats when I think
I think about gold
You remind me of gold
And when I see the sunrise in the sky
And when I hear your brakes come squealing by
I forget
Everything Ive been told
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
Baby I always think about you
I think of the life and glory you hold
You remind me of gold
And even though there was no sun today
And though you are a thousand miles away
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emerald City Sequence
(quincy jones/charlie smalls)
Emerald city green:
I want to be seen green
Wouldnt be caught dead, red
cause if you are seen green
It means you got mean bread
Youve got to be seen green
To show that youre stuffs layed
If youre not seen green
You better be wearing jade
Oh, youve got to be seen green
Dont tell them your cupboards bare
That you gave up one weeks feed
To pay for your colored hair
Oh, oh, oh
An announcement from the great powerful oz:
I thought it over and green is dead
till I change my mind, the color is red
Emerald city red:
I wouldnt be seen green
Ooo! oo! oo! ah! ah!
I wouldnt be caught dead
And if Im caught at all
Then catch me in dead, red
Ooo!
Youve got to be dead red
Youve got to be real hot
So throw away those green gems
And wear rubies on your yacht
Youve got to be dead, red
Youve got to have flash and flair
And if youre not seen red
Then you shouldnt be seen nowhere
Ah!
How quickly fashion goes down the drain.
Last week when you all was wearin pink
Already for me red was old.
The ultimate brick is gold.
Thats the new color, children
Emerald city gold:
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
You got to be seen gold
Watch out for the new kind
You got to have old gold
Like some from a gold mine
You got to be wearin gold
The twenty four carat kind
And once youve shined it up
It should ought to make you blind, ah!
You got to be seen in gold
To show that youre super slick
It helps to pay tips and tolls
Its the ultimate yellow brick
Its the ultimate
Gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Gold, gold, gold, gold
Gold!
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Cleopatra
Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,
Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.
Around her neck they have put a golden necklace
Her tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.
Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt—
Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the south.
Now she is very old and dry and faded,
With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.
Grave-robbers pulled the gold rings from her fingers,
Despite the holy symbols across her breast;
They scared the bats that quietly whirled above her.
Poor lady! she would have been long since at rest
If she had not been wrapped and spiced so shrewdly,
Preserved, obscene, to mock black flights of years.
What would her lover have said, had he foreseen it?
Had he been moved to ecstasy, or tears?
O sweet clean earth from whom the green blade cometh!—
When we are dead, my best-beloved and I,
Close well above us that we may rest forever,
Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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