Golden Years? (A day in the life of seniors)
When you are old and gray and full of sleep-
And the morning light breaks upon the hill-
Your weary bones creak with the havoc of arising-
Breaking the absolute of earlys morns still;
The stillness breaks the world awake-
As our gray fights to overcome infirmity-
Morning eggs stir yellow upon this stove of life-
And saves our sinews from utter calamity;
We move our sleepy bodies ever slowly-
Tired bones but awaiting the noontime sun-
Gray and old we manage our steps in frail paces-
As we do when day has finally begun;
A heaviness envelopes in late afternoon-
Four P.M. announces many a fragile yawn-
Heart beats struggle to flow the blood-
Congested from damage thats been done;
Dinner arrives with plates of health?
Struggling to make our nutrition right-
Preparing our gray bodies for ebons arrival-
Flannel nighties and long johns for the night;
The twilight and dusk permeate now-
As the sun sets over the hill in the west-
The old and the gray yawning eyes heavy lidded-
Prepare for a night of sleep and hopefully restoring rest;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
In Death Valley
There came gray stretches of volcanic plains,
Bare, lone and treeless, then a bleak lone hill
Like to the dolorous hill that Dobell saw.
Around were heaps of ruins piled between
The Burn o’ Sorrow and the Water o’ Care;
And from the stillness of the down-crushed walls
One pillar rose up dark against the moon.
There was a nameless Presence everywhere;
In the gray soil there was a purple stain,
And the gray reticent rocks were dyed with blood—
Blood of a vast unknown Calamity.
It was the mark of some ancestral grief—
Grief that began before the ancient Flood.
poem by Edwin Markham
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Growin' Gray
HELLO, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray,
An' it beats ole Ned to see the way
'At the crow's feet's a-getherin' aroun' yore eyes;
Tho' it oughtn't to cause me no su'prise,
Fur there's many a sun 'at you've seen rise
An' many a one you've seen go down
Sence yore step was light an' yore hair was brown,
An' storms an' snows have had their way—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray.
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray,
An' the youthful pranks 'at you used to play
Are dreams of a far past long ago
That lie in a heart where the fires burn low—
That has lost the flame though it kept the glow,
An' spite of drivin' snow an' storm,
Beats bravely on forever warm.
December holds the place of May—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray.
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray —
Who cares what the carpin' youngsters say?
For, after all, when the tale is told,
Love proves if a man is young or old!
Old age can't make the heart grow cold
When it does the will of an honest mind;
When it beats with love fur all mankind;
Then the night but leads to a fairer day—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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I've tried doing so, for it was never my intention to paint only with gray. But in the course of my work I have eliminated one color after another, and what has remained is gray, gray, gray!
quote by Alberto Giacometti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faith
A wall
Gray and tall,
And a sky of gray,
And a twilight cold;
And that is all
That my eyes behold.
But I know that unseen,
Beyond the wall,
On a lawn of green
White blossoms fall
In the waning light;
And beyond the lawn
Curtains are drawn
From windows bright.
And within she moves with her gracious hands
And the heart that loves and that understands,
Waiting to succour poor souls in need,
And to bind with her blessing the hearts that bleed.
I know it all, though I cannot see;
But the tired-out tramp,
Dirty and ill,
In the evening's damp,
In the Spring's clean chill,
Knows not that there
Is the heart to care
For such as I and for such as he.
He slouches along, and sees alone
The gray of the sky and the gray of the stone.
Lord, when my eyes see nothing but grey
In all Thy world that is now so green,
I will bethink me of this spring day
And the house of welcome, known yet unseen;
The wall that conceals
And the faith that reveals.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Gray Knight
Gray is vibrant, nagging us terribly,
For it is dark in its enticement,
It lures you deliberately, and dreams are on.
The chivalry is gray and defies immortality,
For he is concrete in his dress and garb,
Ever so clever with battle-axe and whispers.
Uncomfortably, he speaks unholily,
For a knight this is deranged and psychotic,
Sucking the sleep of years.
Gray is the sleep adjusted to the days and nights of our lives.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Hello, Old man...
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
Though it ought not cause me no surprise,
For there’s many a sun that you’ve seen rise and go down
Since your step was light and your hair was brown,
And storms and snows have had their way–
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
And the youthful pranks that you used to play,
Are dreams of long ago lie in a heart where the fires burn low–
That has lost the flame though it kept the glow,
And spite of driving snow and storm,
Beats bravely on forever warm. December holds the place of May–
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
Who cares what the carping’ youngsters say?
For, after all, when the tale is told,
Love proves if a man is young or old!
Old age can’t make the heart grow cold
When it does the will of an honest mind;
When it beats with love for all mankind;
Then the night but leads to a fairer day–
poem by Rey Sanidad
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A Picture
The Sun burns fiercely down the skies;
The sea is full of flashing eyes;
The waves glide shoreward serpentwise
And fawn with foamy tongues on stark
Gray rocks, each sharp-toothed as a shark,
And hiss in clefts and channels dark.
Blood-purple soon the waters grow,
As though drowned sea-kings fought below
Forgotten fights of long ago.
The gray owl Dusk its wings has spread;
The sun sinks in a blossom-bed
Of poppy-clouds; the day is dead.
poem by Victor James Daley
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Green And Gray
I'm in a room full of people, hanging on one person's breath. We would all vote him most likely to be loved to death. I hope he still wants it, but it might remind him of when, he aimed for the bulls eye and hit it nine times out of ten. That one time his hand slipped, and I saw the dart sail away. I don't know where it landed, but I'm guessing between green and gray. We thought nothing of it, but it still haunts him like a ghost. With all eyes upon him, except two that matter the most.
He says "Green is the color everyone sees al around me. Gray is the color I see around her, and she's just a blur." The more the corwd cheers, the less I can hear and they don't really care what I play. It might be for her. But for now it's between green and gray.
We paid and we cheered. Now we're gone and to us that feels right. But for him every one of those evenings turns into a night. With another hotel room where he lays awake to pretend that he's doing fine with his notebook and discman for friends.
He says "Green is the color everyone sees al around me. Gray is the color I see around her, and she's just a blur." Night after night what I hear, what I write fills the room and my head starts to sway. It might be for her, but for now it's between green and gray.
I want you to love me, he whispers, unable to speak. And he wonders aloud why feelings so strong make the body so weak. Then he awoke. Now he's scared to death somebody heard. If it was you, and you know her, please don't say a word.
song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shades Of Gray (Master Backing Track Take 98)
When the world and I were young, just yesterday
Life was such a simple game a child could play
It was easy then to tell right from wrong
Easy then to tell weak from strong
When a man should stand and fight
Or just go along
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
I remember when the answer seemed so clear
We had never lived with doubt, or tasted fear
It was easy then to tell truth from lies
Selling out from compromise
Who to love and who to hate
The foolish from the wise
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
It was easy then to know what was fair
When to keep and when to share
How much to protect your heart
And how much to care
But today, there is no day or night
Today, there is no dark or light
Today, there is no black or white
Only shades of gray
Only shades of gray
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~ A Prisoner Of Your Love ~ [Double Acrostic]
A prisoner of your love. I stand behind four walls of gray.
- Alone; your memory my only company, each solitary day.
Locked down; twenty four hours around the clock, without you near.
- Living dreams of the past it seems, are all that I hold dear.
Constantly and always there, memories of you flow through the air.
- Constantly reminding me of our love. That we no longer share.
A prisoner of your love. Can I do the time? That's my only fear.
- And now the echo's of my lonely heart are the only sounds I hear.
Trapped; in this cinder block room. Shadows of gloom are here to stay.
- Trapped here without your love, as my blood turns prison gray.
Release may never come to me. This cell's become my home you see.
- Reliving how things used to be, in this gray walled penitentiary.
Alcatraz; is where I dwell. Where these gray walls are my living hell.
- Although one day escape I may. Right now's too soon to tell.
Zenith's, I know our love had reached. I'll love you still as time goes on.
- Zealously i'll wait for thee on ''The Rock''; till my last breath is gone..
*********************************** *************************************************
Author notes:
Written in double Acrostic -
This poem was inspired by a picture of Alcatraz Prison
''The Rock'' as they called it then. Built in 1866, closed
one hundred years later - and a poem written by one the
prisoners:
Untitled -
I awaken to gray
And gray is my morning sun
I live gray
And all days are like one
There are no colors
Only shadows along the way
Sometimes I think, the blood in my body
Must also be prison gray
Songs Of The Sky
In a sky of layered clouds,
dawn becomes a rainbow,
moving through the spectrum
toward the day.
In a sky of always blue,
no clouds ride the wind:
the sun burns brightly,
high and hot and long.
In a sky of may grays,
clouds crash, explode and roar;
rain-filled winds sweep across the prairie.
In a sky of many blues,
clouds dance on the wind;
and endless and quixotic
Rohrschach test.
In a sky of always gray,
no clouds seem to move;
overcast blots out imagination.
In a sky of cold, cold blue,
gray clouds scrape the treetops;
harbingers of winter storms to come.
Beneath a sky of darkening gray,
the prairie grasses rustle
on the small, forgotten farms
of what could've been
and was.
In a sky of mottled gray,
cold rains fall, now and then;
the seasons struggle
for control of April.
In a sky of broken gray,
cold winds precede the rains;
and before long
the darkened clouds re-gather.
In a sky as clear as glass,
and blue from top to bottom,
sultry days of August
slowly drift into September.
In a twi-lit noon-time sky,
this annular eclipse
leaves us just a
ring around the moon.
In a sky of many clouds,
sunset's an inferno;
ablaze, in this,
my father's final twilight.
In a sky that slowly burns,
the clouds of fire fade
and leave a darker beauty
to hold the night.
poem by William Kruse
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From A Bleak Start
Another day that’s gray and bleak; and what a way to start the week.
But, as the weather changes friend, we too, could have a better end.
With the sun, the sky is brighter, and with The Lord a load is lighter.
When your heart is weighed down, only in Jesus, a Peace is found.
It always seems darkest when, your strength seems to be at its end,
That is when you will see The Lord, open for you a brand new door.
It’s always darkest before the light, as Christ Jesus breaks the night.
Then you see as you regain full sight, that everything will be all right.
So when your life seems overcast, you can be certain it will not last.
As the sun sheds away the gray, Jesus Christ will light up your way.
When in the darkness of this life, use the Light that’s found in Christ.
For Christ’s Light shines so bright, when the days are dark as night.
During these times, it is Christ, who guides you through all your life.
For He will not forsake you friend, indeed, He is with you to the end.
Through the week lean upon Him, Jesus will guide you in everything.
And all the gray will soon subside, as in Christ Jesus you fully abide,
Friend, others shall see your light, when their days are not so bright.
And any light that others can see, is just a small glimpse of eternity.
When Jesus will be The Light, that continually shines forever bright.
A time when all darkness will be, banished throughout all of eternity.
Never again shall we see night, as Christ my friend is Eternal Light.
A time when His Light won’t lack, so to the world we won’t look back.
It is this hope that is in our heart, that keeps us going from the start.
You will see by the week’s end, that it’s not like the beginning friend.
Romance
MY Love dwelt in a Northern land.
A gray tower in a forest green
Was hers, and far on either hand
The long wash of the waves was seen,
And leagues on leagues of yellow sand,
The woven forest boughs between!
And through the silver Northern night
The sunset slowly died away,
And herds of strange deer, lily-white,
Stole forth among the branches gray;
About the coming of the light,
They fled like ghosts before the day!
I know not if the forest green
Still girdles round that castle gray;
I know not if the boughs between
The white deer vanish ere the day;
Above my Love the grass is green,
My heart is colder than the clay!
poem by Andrew Lang
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A Requiem
Neobule, being tired,
Far too tired to laugh or weep,
From the hours, rosy and gray,
Hid her golden face away.
Neobule, fain of sleep,
Slept at last as she desired!
Neobule! is it well,
That you haunt the hollow lands,
Where the poor, dead people stray,
Ghostly, pitiful and gray,
Plucking, with their spectral hands,
Scentless blooms of asphodel?
Neobule, tired to death
Of the flowers that I threw
On her flower-like, fair feet,
Sighed for blossoms not so sweet,
Lunar roses pale and blue,
Lilies of the world beneath.
Neobule! ah, too tired
Of the dreams and days above!
Where the poor, dead people stray,
Ghostly, pitiful and gray,
Out of life and out of love,
Sleeps the sleep which she desired.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Green & Gray
Im in a room full of people, hanging on one persons breath.
We would all vote him most likely to be loved to death.
I hope he still wants it, but it might remind him of when,
He aimed for the bulls eye and hit it nine times out of ten.
That one time his hand slipped, and I saw the dart sail away.
I dont know where it landed, but Im guessing between green and gray.
We thought nothing of it, but it still haunts him like a ghost.
With all eyes upon him, except two that matter the most.
He says green is the color everyone sees al around me.
Gray is the color I see around her, and shes just a blur.
The more the corwd cheers, the less I can hear
And they dont really care what I play. it might be for her.
But for now its between green and gray.
We paid and we cheered. now were gone and to us that feels right.
But for him every one of those evenings turns into a night.
With another hotel room where he lays awake to pretend
That hes doing fine with his notebook and discman for friends.
He says green is the color everyone sees al around me.
Gray is the color I see around her, and shes just a blur.
Night after night what I hear, what I write fills the room
And my head starts to sway. it might be for her,
But for now its between green and gray.
I want you to love me, he whispers, unable to speak.
And he wonders aloud why feelings so strong make the body so weak.
Then he awoke. now hes scared to death somebody heard.
If it was you, and you know her, please dont say a word.
song performed by by Nickel Creek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Smile Against Gray Rainy Clouds
Against the gray of glooms doom
Thy waxen countenance with smiles loom
A contrast to the murky gray
Thy face shines like a diamond in day
A tinge of a beautiful element
Infuses gold by the filament
Thy tawny eyes filled with treasure
Bring more joy than gold's bought pleasure
Under the darken clouds of tainted sight
Thy face limpid as crystallite
A morsel of magic thy animate
Light and love thy consummate
O! If gray days did imitate
There would be no need to precipitate
Tears of gray with no day
For our hearts to heavy weigh
So smile our tears away
And in thine light let us play.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Phyllis
PHYLLIS, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day,
Few are my years, but my griefs are not few,
Ever to youth should each day be a May-day,
Warm wind and rose-breath and diamonded dew—
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day.
Oh for the sunlight that shines on a May-day!
Only the cloud hangeth over my life.
Love that should bring me youth's happiest heyday
Brings me but seasons of sorrow and strife:
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day.
Sunshine or shadow, or gold day or gray day,
Life must be lived as our destinies rule;
Leisure or labor or work day or play day—
Feasts for the famous and fun for the fool;
Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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For me, the summer will be pure gray - mother-of-pearl gray, very pale gray. To me, this is the big statement for summer. Then we have light blue, light turquoise, lots of pink.
quote by Gianni Versace
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cruel Winds of Winter
Got up this morning, no sun in my eyes,
The house is so cold, no warmth to the fire,
My love is gone, he took all my desire,
And cruel winds of winter howled all night.
My love could warm me in the coldest time,
Bring the light of day to the darkest night,
As tears of my sorrow fall from my eyes,
The cruel winds of winter cry in delight.
Pull on my coat, keep the chill from my side,
I walk by the sea, the salt stings my eye,
The caps are all gray, like clouds in the sky,
And with those cruel winds of winter, I cry.
As tears of my sorrow fall to the sand,
My love is not here to warn my cold hand,
He’s gone like the sun from this harsh, gray land,
And only the wind seems to understand.
This endless winter has replaced his light,
My sweet love gone, no warmth in my sight,
I drift lost and lonely, no sleep I find,
Still those winds cry with me deep in the night.
My heart so heavy, life has no delight,
And the cruel winds of winter, torment my night.
poem by Teresa Dearing
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The Olive Garden
(Rainer Maria Rilke)
He went up under the gray leaves
All gray and lost in the olive lands
And laid his forehead, gray with dust,
Deep in the dustiness of his hot hands.
After everything this. And this was the end.
-- Now I must go, as I am going blind.
And why is it Thy will that I must say
Thou art, when I myself no more can find Thee.
I find Thee no more. Not in me, no.
Not in others. Not in this stone,
I find Thee no more. I am alone.
I am alone with all men's sorrow --
All that, through Thee, I thought to lighten,
Thou who art not, O nameless shame ...
Men said, later: an angel came.
Why an angel? Alas, there came the night,
And leafed through the trees, indifferently.
The disciples moved a little in their dreams.
Why an angel? Alas, there came the night.
The night that came was no uncommon night:
So hundreds of nights go by.
There dogs sleep; there stones lie,
Alas a sorrowful, alas any night
That waits till once more it is morning.
For then beseech: the angels do not come,
Never do nights grow great around them.
Who lose themselves, all things let go;
They are renounced by their own fathers
And shut from their own mothers' hearts.
poem by Randall Jarrell
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