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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Will You Love Me In December As You Do In May
Now, in the summer of life, sweetheart
You say you love but me
Gladly I give all my heart to you
Throbbing with ecstasy
But last night I saw, while a-dreaming
, the future old and gray,
And I wondered if youll love me then, dear
Just as you do today?
Will you love me in december as you do in may?
Will you love me in the good old-fashioned way?
When my hair has all turned gray,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in december as you do in may?
You say the glow on my cheek, sweetheart
Is like the rose so sweet
But when the bloom of fair youth has flown
Then will our lips still meet?
When lifes setting sun fades away, dear,
And all is said and done,
Will you arms still entwine and caress me?
Will our hearts beat as one?
Will you love me in december as you do in may?
Will you love me in the good old-fashioned way?
When my hair has all turned gray,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in december as you do in may?
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turning Japanese
Ive got your picture
Of me and you
You wrote, I love you.
I love you, too
I sit there staring when theres nothing else to do
Oh, its in color
Your hair is brown
Your eyes are hazel
And soft as clouds
I often kiss you when theres no one else around
Ive got your picture, got your picture
Id like a million of em over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Ive got your picture, Ive got your picture
Id like a million of them over myself
I want a doctor to take your picture
So I can look at you from inside as well
Youve got me turning up, Im turning down, Im turning in, and Im turning round
Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder its dark
Everyone around me is a total stranger
Everyone avoids me like a cyclone ranger
Everyone
Thats why Im turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so)
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
Turning japanese, I think Im turning japanese, I really think so
(think so, think so, think so...)
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Roses
He placed a rose in my nut-brown hair--
A deep red rose with a fragrant heart
And said: 'We'll set this day apart,
So sunny, so wondrous fair.'
His face was full of a happy light,
His voice was tender and low and sweet,
The daisies and the violets grew at our feet--
Alas, for the coming of night!
The rose is black and withered and dead!
'Tis hid in a tiny box away;
The nut-brown hair is turning to gray,
And the light of the day is fled!
The light of the beautiful day is fled,
Hush'd is the voice so sweet and low--
And I--ah, me! I loved him so--
And the daisies grow over his head!
poem by Eugene Field
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The New Theory
A butterfly's wing
moving gracefully
in a still Asian dawn
works up a storm
that beats the hell
out of us in Pennsylvania.
I used to think it was
a woman somewhere
on he other side of the world,
turning, maybe, in her sleep,
or tossing the hair
from her face with a soft flip,
that has wakened me
on this lonely dark night,
not a sound, not a glint
of light out the window,
and no air at all
on this night when I need
air, even if only
what comes of a butterfly
passing, or a woman
turning, or tossing her hair.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Louis McKee
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So I Have Become The Middle Man
So I have become the middle man
In this world
And I have so much gray hair on my head
That I don't like at all
I love blond hair
And I find it to be so attractive in men
But the truth is that I have that ugly gray hair
That God gave me
For a reason
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Much Hair
There is thin hair,
heavy hair,
There is gray hair,
and red hair,
then there is no hair,
I will be hair
for you forever,
every hair you go,
I will go hair to.
(4-11-07)
Grandma
Knots and tangles in my hair,
grandma sitting on her chair,
me in front on a stool so low,
brushes and combs all in a row.
Grandma would wash it every day,
Saying 'We do this first, then you play.'
Waiting for the feel of every pull,
this became our ritual.
I anticipated every tug.
When we finished we would hug.
But before I'd leave she'd make a bow,
all different colors she'd use to show
that my hair was something she loved to see.
It was long and shiny black, like ebony.
I treasure her looks and the moments spent,
the combs, the brushes and her looks of content.
My grandma made me feel like a queen,
like the prettiest thing she'd ever seen.
Now as my hair is turning gray
I remember the words she used to say,
'Sit down dolly and I'll comb your hair.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Once You Love Somebody
Two young hearts lost in love they vow to stay,
Running wild they believe theyve found a way
Filled with hope
Shes the dream, she understands you
Now this time hell hold on, shell never leave him
Theyll never let go cause...
Once you love somebody, (once you love)
Theres no turning back (turning back)
It can burn forever, it can haunt you, haunt you in the night
How can lovers just turn and walk away
Loneliness is an edge that cuts both ways
So easy to fall
So hard to get over
Once you love somebody, (once you love)
Theres no turning back (turning back)
It can burn forever, it can haunt you, haunt you in the night
So easy to fall, so hard to get over
Once you love somebody, (once you love)
Theres no turning back (turning back)
It can burn forever, it can haunt you, haunt you in the night
(once you love somebody), once you love
(they can break your heart), no no no
It can burn forever, letting go, thats the hardest part
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Different, But Still The Same
Some people have short hair, some have long.
Some people have thick hair; some people’s hair is all gone.
Some people have black hair, some have gray.
Some people have brown hair, some blonde, some red.
Some people’s hair a color unsaid.
Some people are short, some people are tall.
Some people will love you; some won’t like you at all.
Some people like hot weather, some like cold.
Some people are timid, some people are bold.
Some people have dark skin, some people have light.
Some people have black skin, some people have white.
Some people eat meat; some won’t touch it at all.
Some people have a good memory, some can’t recall.
Some people accept Christ, some never will.
Some people are stingy, some people give.
Some people like school, some people don’t.
Some people will excel, some people won’t.
Some people smoke cigarettes, some never will.
Some people are honest, some people steal.
Some people have book knowledge;
But don’t know the Holy Book.
Some people burn food, some people can cook.
Some people are old, some people are young.
Some people do smart things, some people do dumb.
Some people just have a diploma
Some people have degrees.
Some people do things slow, some with a breeze.
Some people are complainers, some easy to please.
Some people hate shopping, some stay in the mall.
Some people hate God, but God loves us all.
We are all different, but still the same.
When I get cut, I bleed red;
You get cut, red blood you’ll shed.
Some people are plump, some people are thin.
But we are all the same, we’re all human being.
Copyright © 2010-Phyllis Strong
poem by Phyllis Strong
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The Sermon in the Stocking
The supper is over, the hearth is swept,
And in the wood-fire's glow
The children cluster to hear a tale
Of that time so long ago,
When grandmamma's hair was golden brown,
And the warm blood came and went
O'er the face that could scarce have been sweeter then
Than now in its rich content.
The face is wrinkled and careworn now,
And the golden hair is gray;
But the light that shone in the young girl's eyes
Has never gone away.
And her needles catch the fire's light
As in and out they go,
With the clicking music that grandma loves
Shaping the stocking's toe.
And the waking children love it too,
For they know the stocking song
Brings many a tale to grandma's mind
Which they shall hear ere long.
But it brings no story of olden time
To grandma's heart tonight,--
Only a ditty quaint and short
Is sung by the needles bright.
'Life is a stocking,' grandma says,
'And yours is just begun;
But I am kniting the toe of mine,
And my work is almost done.
'With merry hearts we begin to knit,
And the ribbing is almost play;
Some are gay-colored, and some are white,
And some are ashen gray.
'But most are made of many a hue,
With many a stitch set wrong,
And many a row to be sadly ripped
Ere the whole is fair and strong.
'There are long plain stretches without a break,
That in youth are hard to bear;
And many a weary tear is dropped
As we fashion the heel with care.
'But the saddest, happiest time is that
We court and yet would shun,
When our Heavenly Father breaks the thread,
And says our work is done.'
And the children come to say good-night,
With tears in their bright young eyes;
While in grandma's lap, with broken thread,
The finished stocking lies.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Bad
By eric clapton
Its too bad I dont love you, for you have worried me night and day.
Its too bad I dont love you, for you have worried me night and day.
Till my heart begins to stammer and my hair is turning gray.
Its too bad I dont need you, because we get along so good.
Its too bad I dont need you, because we get along so good.
You must be thinking, bout this time, that my poor heart is made of wood.
Its too bad I dont miss you, cause you are always on my mind.
Its too bad I dont miss you, cause you are always on my mind.
I want to stay around your circle and learn to love you all the time.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Want More Hair?
I'd love
I think
more hair
more hair
like a big
old grizzly bear
more hair makes
you manly
more hair
makes you tough
more hair feels
like carpet
more hair keeps
you rough
more hair
for pretty ladies
to rub their faces on
more hair for
guys to jealous of
and more locks that can
be flung
I think more hair would be awesome
but I wouldn't wanna overdo it
because too much hair would make
me like a little furry blanket
and I couldn't cover both of us
just you and that ain't fair
more hair!
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Morning At The Barbershop
This morning at the barbershop,
a barber is busy with the hair
of a much older grey haired man
that he is trimming neatly
and a young man
sits in one of the barber’s chairs.
When I sit down to wait
the young man rises
turning to me
and asks if he can cut my hair.
I was happy to get attention immediately
while the other barber was finishing
with the older man,
as he looks to finely tuned to me.
My hair was smartly cut
with a pair of scissors
and the young barber
held his fingers
to determine the length
and I wanted it shorter
than just cutting off the ends
while the other barber
first took a hair blower
from a drawer,
sprayed something over his own hair
before he started to blow it in the mirror
and he then said
that he cannot go
to the bank to wait in line
with a head looking like Tut’s ass
and I saw my locks
falling dark brown
with dots of grey around me
and saw the other barber
combing his long hair
and smiled at myself
about the vanity of humanity
while I looked at myself
and were starting to look much better.
poem by Gert Strydom
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We grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.
quote by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Wheels
Ive been thinking it over
So many times they say
You got it made
They never understand
The answer lies within your soul
cos no one know which side
The coin will fall.
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning...
Save it for a rainy day
For when the cold wind blows
Just to see how they run
I thought theyd know
I tried my best, all I could do
But somehow it was not enough for you.
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning,
Turning, turning...
Chorus:
I remember the dead of night
A lonely light that shines upon the window
I see it all so clear
The tenderness, the silent tears
Out here in the pouring rain
Through cold dark waiting days
I see you standing there
I see the big wheels turning
Never ending, on and on they go.
I think Im going home
I think Im gonna have to start again
Its rather sad
Because Ive looked around, cant seem to find
Whatevers always rolling through my mind
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning
Baby I know
Big wheels turning, turning
Turning, turning...
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tide Is Turning
I used to think the world was flat
Rarely threw my hat into the crowd
I felt I had used up my quota of yearning
Used to look in on the children at night
In the glow of their donald duck light
And I frighten myself with the thought of my little ones burning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Satellites buzzing through the endless night
Exclusive to moonshots and world title fights
Jesus christ, imagine what it must be earning
Who is the strongest
Who is the best
Who holds the aces
The east
Or the west
This is the crap our children are learning
And oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
Now the satellites confused
cos on saturday night
The airwaves were full of compassion and light
And his silicon heart warmed
To the sight of a billion candles burning
But, Im not saying that the battle is won
But on saturday night all those kids in the sun
Wrested technologys sword from the hand of the war lords
Oh, the tide is turning
Oh, the tide is turning
Oh, the tide is turning
Oh, the tide is turning
(repeated)
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People that are 40, they don't sit around at talk about gray hair and how it covers their hair. They talk about highlighting, of course they're covering gray, but they don't talk about it that way. They're going to get their colors because they need a little lightening.
quote by Andie MacDowell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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
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Aging Gracefully
You asked if I'd still love you if you lost all of your hair
Your baldness seems a tragedy: you want more fullness there.
It's strange the way we always wish for what we seem to lack
And anything that goes away is what we'd welcome back.
But hair-well that might be a different story all together
We grow it long or cut it short depening on the weather.
In time, it seems to him there's no such thing as too much hair
She spends her evenings waxing and goes shopping for more Nair.
It really is amusing as we old folks go to bed
She has too much; he has too little hair upon his head.
Perhaps a doctor may invent a way we all can win
By building him a grand toupee with hair plucked from her chin.
poem by Suzanne McNamee
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