A Cold Grey Wintry Day
On this cold, gray-wintry day,
The sun is nowhere to be found.
Listen! I hear the rain:
Pit pat, pit pat—dripppppp, plop.
Pit pat, pit pat—dripppppp, plop.
Like a sad song, its music play
To the melancholy lyric of:
“A Cold, Gray Wintry Day.”
poem by Walterrean Salley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Picture Me
Picture me on a cold, wintry day,
the snow crunching under my feet,
snow flakes kiss me as we meet.
They whirl and twirl in wintry dance,
on the look-out for romance.
My joyous heart beats its wintry song,
I once again feel young and strong,
Revitalized and energized, I record
my footprints in the snow to tell
this day has not gone by,
watching through a window pane,
the magic wonder of transformed rain.
poem by Elke Nigro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Jamaican Guy
Take a toke from the smoke,
Never standing by the door,
Just stretching out pan de floor,
That way him dont fall over,
No way him gwan fall out pan me,
That way him wont fall over,
No way him gwan fall out pan me.
cause hes layed back, not laying back,
Layed back, not worried back,
Layed back, not thinking back,
Layed back, never holding back,
My jamaican guy, my jamaican guy.
When my dread start to sw..
Him no think if it hot nor cold,
We just come in a de riva cold,
Dat way him dont waste him wata,
No way it gwan run out pan him,
Dat way him dont waste him wata,
No way it gwan run out pan him.
cause hes layed back, not worried back,
Layed back, not thinking back,
Layed back, not laying back,
Layed back, never holding back,
My jamaican guy, my jamaican guy.
My j.a. guy.
Take my life for a drive,
Never need to change his tools,
Him drive like a stubborn mule,
Dat way him naw go plop plop,
No way gas gwan bun out pan him,
Dat way him naw go plop plop,
No way gas gwan bun out pan him.
cause hes layed back, not thinking back,
Layed back, not worried back,
Layed back, not laying back,
Layed back, never holding back,
My jamaican guy,
My j.a. guy.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Autumn Again
It’s autumn again
Leaves whisper the sound of our past
In loss they pay a descent
To the ground we fall
It’s autumn again
Our song is sung by the wind
Echoes of loss and grief
Through chilled air we wade
It’s autumn again
The waters grow as cold as our hearts
We are alike – crusted in ice
In ourselves we freeze
It’s autumn again
Flowers vanish from our sadness
Our beauty grows weak
Covered in frost we wither
It’s autumn again
The rain falls like our tears
Can’t dry our eyes
From the sky we descend
It’s autumn again
The sun shines then fails like us
Our sight becomes a wintry gray
Lost in darkness we will fade
It’s autumn again
poem by Andrea Rieck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love A Duck
Mammy duck leaves the bank,
Baby ducks follow plop plop,
Daddy duck rear guard
Safe from the predators.
Sadly the little ones are
Easy pickings for the eels,
Grow little ones grow very fast,
Then you will be too big for the eels grasp.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hot Burning Flames
She left me almost burned out
I couldn't feel a thin'
A walkin' talkin' statue
Afraid to love again
She did everything to kill a flame
But a little spark got through
If she'd a got her way I'd be gone today
If it hadn't been for you
You turned cold gray ashes into hot burning flames
I'm alive with love because of you
When you came to light the fire you knew just what to bring
You turned cold gray ashes into hot burning flames
--- Instrumental ---
She thought she had me down and out
But at the count of nine
A livin' lovin' angel showed up just in time
She thought that I would surely die
Sometimes I wanted to
She had no doubt the fire was out
But she didn't count on you
You turned cold gray ashes into hot burning flames
I'm alive with love because of you
When you came to light the fire you knew just what to bring
You turned cold gray ashes into hot burning flames
You turned cold gray ashes into hot burning flames
I'm alive with love because of you
When you came to light the fire you knew just what to bring
You turned cold gray ashes into hot burnin' flames
You turned cold gray ashes into hot burnin' flames...
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Caribbean Night
Tropical night, starlit, if I recall rightly; there was
sliver of a golden moon also. We drank beer too,
the sea is an enormous waste bin, plop, plop.
Someone brought guitar, nights like this ought to
have music, the gentle murmour of voices stilled.
The guitar player wasn't any good, but for awhile
we sat politely listening to his pathetic attempts.
His friend got up, threw the instrument overboard.
We drank more beer, listened to our own dreams;
mine was about a guitar playing dolphin.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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neath A Cold Gray Tomb Of Stone
Passing by a lonesome graveyard
Everything I love is gone
Weeping as they lay my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
In this world i'm left to wander
With no one to call my own
While my precious darling's sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Out there in that lonesome graveyard
She is sleeping all alone
And I burried my heart with her
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Skies above are dark and stormy
All the sunshine,all is gone
For the while my love is sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
My heart is dead and yet i'm living
Traveling through this world alone
I wish that I was with my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peter Gunn's Gun
by Michael Leonard, Bobby Weinstein & Jon Stroll
Throw a penny from the window, watch an old man play a song
On a twenty-dollar violin he bought before the war,
Though he screeches and he scratches and the notes are always wrong,
But he plays like he's in concert on the street outside my door.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
He's the local virtuoso, it's his only way of life,
Plays ninety-seven overtures and goes home to his wife,
In the quiet of the evening while his frozen fingers bleed,
He counts pennies on a blanket to supply his meager need.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
When there's frost upon the pumpkin in the weakness of the sun,
People stand there in the cold until his symphony is done,
In the early gray of morning, he's sure to come around,
You can hear him through the window when the pennies hit the ground.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
They're playing penny music,
Playing penny music,
They're playing penny music,
Playing penny music,
Playing penny music.
fade out...
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Stale And Flatten
Racism tried to divide,
Apparently sliding on the downslide.
And that...
Is on the brink,
Of failure.
Corruption and deceit?
Even the ones once disbelieving...
This could not be a possibility,
Now find it as common...
As seeing 'For Sale' signs,
On every street.
And those failures?
They too are complete.
People are discovering,
Dishonesty is not the way to live.
Especially today...
When the value of their standards,
Have popped their corks.
And left their minds fizzed,
Out.
To stale and flatten.
And to leave them scattered about.
Plop, plop, fizz, fizz...
No relief comes to the times that give,
To all that sat unaccepting what is!
An implementation of their own created,
Devastation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Blood Rose...
There is a rose laying on the ground,
Blood is running out of the rose.
The rose's colour began to fade until it was a pale gray.
This only took around ten minutes.
The rose was pale, cold and dead.
The rose was found by a young man who was walking by.
He wondered why the rose was cold and gray.
He found another one a few days later.
What he didn't know was that the roses represented the broken hearts of teenage girls.
The roses wer originally blood red, only fading to grey when her heart was broken.
The roses were later known as the Blood Rose.
poem by MaddiiAnne O'Leary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Left Me A Song
Out of the glitter and the shine
Out of the corner of my eye
Saw you walking I freeze the frame
My lucky game
We could've been strangers if we tried
Move to the rhythm side by side
Maybe a glance across the room
Blue moon
Why did the hours burn so long
Sunset and shadows cold
I hear the music playing now
I know you're gone
But you
You left me a song
Under the skylight after dark
Cripping to find you, what a luck
We were like children stripping down
The joy we found
But even the lights that turn me on
Make it so hard to see beyond
Make it a rainbow in my mind
This ???
Why did the hours burn so long
Sunset and shadows cold
I hear the music playing now
I know you're gone
But you
You left me a song
Huh you left me
Huh huh you left me
A song
Why did the hours burn so long
Sunset and shadows cold
I hear the music playing now
I know you're gone
But you
You left me a song
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love A Duck
Mammy duck leaves the bank,
Baby ducks follow plop plop,
Daddy duck rear guard
Safe from the predators.
Sadly the little ones are
Easy pickings for the eels,
Grow little ones grow very fast,
Then you will be too big for the eels grasp.
Black swans arrive with six white little ones
At the spot where they all look for crumbs,
My poodle Beau goes close for a sniff
A black flying swan flies out, whoosh goes biff.
Beau scurries off with a really loud yelp
To run in between my legs for human help,
No more going near baby swans with daddy around
He will stick to spraying trees it’s safer he’s found.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cloudburst
Words by:
Music by:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was blue and I was always wearing a frown
, because my gal had turned me down.
Then we met and you can bet I knew from the first,
you were my love,
and that's when the old gray cloudburst.
My heart really flew,
the day you caught my eye.
I hope that we two will never say "Good-bye."
Clouds of gray have silver linings when they reverse.
I found your love and that's when the old gray cloudburst.
Hey, baby.....
I'm gonna tell you 'bout your lovin'
and your kissn' and your huggin'
and your sweet turtle-dovin' pretty baby.
I won't be satisfied til I hear 'em play,
"Here comes the bride."
Listen to me baby and I don't mean maybe.
Listen to my story,
it's terrifficly true.
I gotta find a way of telling you that I really go for you.
I hope you really believe me baby 'cause I certainly do.
'Cause you're thrillin' me, you're really,
really thrilling when you tell me that you probably got a kind of crush on me,
That moves me, grooves me.
How divine can one woman be?
Well little darlin',
you got me fallin'.
You got me goofy and gay.
I'm gonna get carried away.
Just think, you're gonna be mine someday.
Oh, let's spin a little,
park a little, stop a little,
spark a little,
live a little,
love a little,
maybe turtle-dove a little baby.
Every time you hold me so near,
nobody loves me like you, dear.
Let's stop a little, squeeze a little,
probably maybe tease a little,
try a little, sigh a little,
maybe have to cry a little bit,
'cause to tell you the truth,
I'm gonna love you and that's it.
'Cause I love you baby,
love you baby,
love you baby,
love you baby,
with all my heart.
Oooh, listen to me while I say I let
a lotta little ladies get away
Because I know,
I know pretty baby, I know,
I know, pretty baby,
I know you're the one, yes you're the one.
I knew when I met you what a break it was to get you.
When it's cloudy and gray and that's the worst.
How do you cause the cloud to burst?
You got to find a lover,
find a lover, find a lover, find a lover.
If it's silvery under clouds of gray.
How do you chase the clouds away?
You gotta find a little girl
and make her love you a lot.
Don't ever leave unless you flip your
lid and really want to ruin the plot.
Sounds easy does it?
Light as a breeze thru the trees.
Boy, how pleasant was it?
Pleasant as one summer day, boy.
It's so wonderful,
what a love can do.
Look at what love has done for you.
Hey, I'm a lucky lover, lucky lover,
I got the love you should discover.
I was blue and I was always wearing a frown,
because my gal had turned me down.
Then we met and you can bet I knew from the first,
You were my love,
and that's when the old gray cloudburst.
Take a look at me.
Boy take another look,
take another look,
take another look,
Take another good, long, look at me.
Love opened my eyes and now I see,
Clouds of gray have silver linings when they reverse.
I found your love,
and that's when the old, gray, cloudburst.
That's when the old, gray, cloud burst!
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet In Bee Flat
There must be a place (but I've yet to find one)
beneath the Sol-drawn dawn of autumn skies
where cut-throat trout still find the heart to run
and the fullness of Summer's life never dies.
There, as if Earth had changed rotation,
Instead of honey, nature gathers dew
and composes a world without notation.
Unlike the life of old, this work is new.
Despite the nearing gray cold wintry blast,
the twisted fir tree keeps her dreams of green,
of a chamomile welwitschian past,
and buzzing yellow flights of friends less seen.
But bees still dance their flower pollen-aise,
a song of haze gold mid-October days.
(mindbringer,19 October 2009)
poem by Thomas Holderfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain
Suddenly this defeat.
This rain.
The blues gone gray
And the browns gone gray
And yellow
A terrible amber.
In the cold streets
Your warm body.
In whatever room
Your warm body.
Among all the people
Your absence
The people who are always
Not you.
I have been easy with trees
Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.
Now
Suddenly
This rain.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Jack Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn Thoughts
Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers,
And gone the Summer's pomp and show,
And Autumn, in his leafless bowers,
Is waiting for the Winter's snow.
I said to Earth, so cold and gray,
'An emblem of myself thou art.'
'Not so,' the Earth did seem to say,
'For Spring shall warm my frozen heart.'
I soothe my wintry sleep with dreams
Of warmer sun and softer rain,
And wait to hear the sound of streams
And songs of merry birds again.
But thou, from whom the Spring hath gone,
For whom the flowers no longer blow,
Who standest blighted and forlorn,
Like Autumn waiting for the snow;
No hope is thine of sunnier hours,
Thy Winter shall no more depart;
No Spring revive thy wasted flowers,
Nor Summer warm thy frozen heart.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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An August Morning At Upper Gully
The smoke from the chimneys curled down in the sky
And it's colder and wetter than 'twas in July
And fog o'er the forest a blanket of gray
And darkening rain clouds more showers on the way.
The currawongs calling the dark birds of rain
And into the station roars the city bound train
And cars on the highway racing to and fro
And down the high woodlands the chilly winds blow.
At 7 a.m. and the temperatures low
And it's cold in upper Gully cold enough to snow
Yet on this bleak morning great beauty i see
Bright yellow flowers blooming on the wattle tree.
Their loud cackling laughter one could not mistake
And they call through the morning just after daybreak
On the higher branches of old mountain gray
The kookaburras herald a cold Winter's day.
Three weeks left in August and Spring is so near
On this perhaps the coldest day of the year
And dark rain clouds gather in bleak morning sky
And it's colder and wetter than 'twas in July.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rainy Morning In May
There is a distinct coolness in the late Autumn breeze
And it's chilly in the highlands though not cold enough to freeze
And a high today the forecast read of 17 degrees
And the currawongs are piping on the eucalyptus trees.
And the rain come down in drizzles and the rainy sky is gray
And the ravens they are cawing on the pines across the way
And even for the end of Autumn this is not a pleasant day
And the Winter is approaching as we near the end of May.
On the golf links looking green now people play golf in the rain
And for the eastern suburbs golfers it's umbrella time again
Doesn't matter about the weather they will play rain, hail or shine
And they have been playing all morning since the gates opened at nine.
When you hear the spur winged plover calling o'er his breediong ground
In the darkness of the morning o'er the paddock flying around
You know what time of year it is as they breed in the late Fall
And they raise their chicks in winter in the dampest days of all.
It's been drizzling all the morning and the sky is looking gray
And the weather is not pleasant even though it is late May
And the golfers on the golf links practice their swings in the rain
And for the outdoor lover it's umbrella time again.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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