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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Beautiful Mother
Mother's hair was golden in olden days
She was known as 'The beautiful One'
And although her hair has turned to silver
She still shines like
A 'jewel' in the sun...
And it's not only because of her silver hair
That she is adored beyond compare.
Her ways are sweet, gentle and kind,
She's the 'beautiful One'
With the beautiful mind.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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That Silver Haired Daddy Of Mine
In a vine-covered shack in the mountains
Bravely fighting the battle of time
Is a dear one who's weathered my sorrows
'Tis that silver-haired daddy of mine
If I could recall all the heartaches
Dear old Daddy, I've caused you to bear
If I could erase those lines from your face
And bring back the gold to your hair
If God would but grant me the power
Just to turn back the pages of time
I'd give all I own if I could but atone
To that silver-haired daddy of mine
Oh, I know it's too late, dear old Daddy
To repay all those sorrows and cares
Though dear Mother is waiting in heaven
Just to comfort and solace you there
If I could recall all the heartaches
Dear old Daddy, I've caused you to bear
If I could erase those lines from your face
And bring back the gold to your hair
If God would but grant me the power
Just to turn back the pages of time
I'd give all I own if I could but atone
To that silver-haired daddy of mine
I'd give all I own if I could but atone
To that silver-haired daddy of mine
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Palomino
(A mother dies leaving her young son
to come to terms with the loss.
In remembrance of Fiona Chappel,
for her sons Tyler and Oliver.)
I was barely 13 years old
She came out of the Guadalupe's on a night so cold
Her coat was frosted diamonds in the sallow moon's glow
My silver palomino
Sixteen hands from her withers to the ground
I lie in bed and listen to the sound
Of the west Texas thunder roll
My silver palomino
I track her into the mountains she loved
Watch her from the rocks above
She'd dip her neck and drink from the winter flows
My silver palomino
Our mustaeros were the very best, sir
But they could never lay a rope on her
No corral will ever hold
The silver palomino
In my dreams bareback I ride
Over the pradera low and wide
As the wind sweeps out the draw
'Cross the scrub desert floor
I'd give my riata and spurs
If I could be forever yours
I'd ride into the serrania where no one goes
For my silver palomino
Summer drought come hard that year
Our herd grazed the land so bare
Me and my dad had to blowtorch the thorns off the prickly pear
And mother, your hand slipped from my hair
Tonight I wake early the sky is pearl, the stars aglow
I saddle up my red roan
I ride deep into the mountains along a ridge of pale stone
Where the air is still with the coming snow
As I rise higher I can smell your hair
The scent of your skin, mother, fills the air
'Midst the harsh scrub pine that grows
I watch the silver palomino
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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A Boy's Trials
When I was but a little lad
One thing I could not bear,
It was to stand at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
They didn't keep boys' hair as short
As it's kept now-a-days,
And mine was always tangled up
In twenty different ways.
I'd twist my mouth and grit my teeth,
And say it wasn't fair-
It was a trial, and no mistake,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd brush and brush each stubborn curl
That grew upon my pate,
And with her scissors nip and clip
To make the edges straight.
Then smooth it down until it shone,
While I would grin and bear,
And feel a martyr through and through,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd take my round chin in her hand
And hold it there the while
She made the parting carefully,
Then tell me with a smile:
'Don't push your cap down on your curls
And spoil my work and care;
He is a pretty little lad
When mother combs his hair.'
I'd hurry out and rumple up
That mop of hair so thick-
A vandal, I, for she had worked
So hard to make it slick-
And wish I were a grown-up man
So nobody would dare
To put a washrag in my ears,
Or comb my tangled hair.
Heigho! now that I'm bald and gray,
Methinks I would be glad
To have her smooth my brow and cheeks,
And whisper, 'Mother's lad!'
A longing for the care-free days
Doth take me unaware;
To stand, a boy, at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
poem by Jean Blewett
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Jealousy
She wore braids in her hair
every single day.
Not because she wanted to.
It was her mother's way.
She braided them so tightly.
She thought her head would break.
Sometimes just the thought of them
would make her poor head ache.
'Why can't I have my hair
flowing down my back?
Her mother's frown would let her know
to try some other tact..
'Mother can we cut it
just above my shoulder? '
the answer that was given was
'Not until you're older.'
And so she wore her hair like this.
She never wore it down.
When at night she unbraided it
she looked just like a clown.
She knew she would cut it
the very next day
right in front of her mother
to see what she would say.
Her mother watched and sat down
and had a cup of tea.
Her mother simply said
'Now you're more beautiful than me.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Return
They turned him loose; he bowed his head,
A felon, bent and grey.
His face was even as the Dead,
He had no word to say.
He sought the home of his old love,
To look on her once more;
And where her roses breathed above,
He cowered beside the door.
She sat there in the shining room;
Her hair was silver grey.
He stared and stared from out the gloom;
He turned to go away.
Her roses rustled overhead.
She saw, with sudden start.
"I knew that you would come," she said,
And held him to her heart.
Her face was rapt and angel-sweet;
She touched his hair of grey;
. . . . .
But he, sob-shaken, at her feet,
Could only pray and pray.
poem by Robert William Service
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Some Things That We Keep Forever
a handwritten name on a
grade one paper
a handkerchief with a
name embroidered on it
locks of baby's hair inside
the page of a fairytale book
an old wooden box
these are some of the things
mother kept for me:
my first paper when
i learned to write
my name,
a handkerchief that mother
gave me on my 5th
birthday,
locks of my hair
on my first hair cut,
mother kept them all,
mother's love, i too,
shall keep it forever.
I love you mama.
I always will.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Manami
I am Sorry. I am sorry those are the only words I can put to effort I am sorry I was not there to tell you good night, I am sorry that I wasn't there for your recitals. I am sorry I was not there to brush your hair, or get you ready for prom, I am sorry that I was not at you graduation that balmy June day. I am sorry that I was not at your wedding, to your dark haired handsome husband now that I look back and wish I could brush your blonde hair or to see your smiling face but, only in my dreams no more will I see the face of my young. I am sorry that I am your mother and for not being there when you need me the most so forgive me my sweet brown eyed blonde hair and with light tanned skin. Manami. I am Sorry.
poem by Raine Uchiha
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Silver
There are clouds that hang
silver-grey in the air,
before the winter sun
gives its first rays
of a drawling day.
Silver-grey the Monday starts
and while the day’s hours
pass much to slowly,
I am summoned to the old chief
with his silver-grey hair.
One of the women clerks
who wants to be boss,
wants to push a silver knife
into a colleges back.
I leave them alone to count their silver pounds
and wash my hands in the bathroom,
with a silver ray of water that squirts out of the tap.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Mother In Law
(a. toussaint)
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
The worst person I know
Mother in law, mother in law
She worries me so
Mother in law, mother in law
If she leaves us alone
We could have a happy home
Sent from down below
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Satan should be her name
Mother in law, mother in law
To me theyre about the same
Mother in law, mother in law
Everytime I open my mouth
Steps in trying to put me out
How could you stood so low
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law
Come home with my pay
Mother in law, mother in law
She asks me what I made
Mother in law, mother in law
She thinks her advice is a contribution
If she would leave that would be the solution
Dont come back no more
Mother in law, mother in law
Mother in law, mother in law....
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Icing
They started an avalanche
Their endless arguments purer next door
She whispers smiles with a sprained ankle.
Housekeeping steps passed the stranded hall
Ice cubes on the elevators ash tray
A pressure sinks her silver stare.
His rusts dust, hair mire, penny rolls, gone
All her colors now rest on silver charms, silver clocks,
Silver boxes, and silver numbers. And
Because of this she kept his mirror, -
A paper cup.
poem by jonathan Juarez
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Lady Silver Hair
I am a Phantom of the opera
My breeze it unties the air
I have blue whispered vison's
And some very long silver hair
I dance down romance lane
That the Roses paved today
Glistening aromatic petals
Of a velvet-toned petal inlay
Whispers of private promises
Softly move throughout this space
Encounters of Origami lovers
Come at last face to face
While in the background
Playing a mystical mandolin
Pulsing out the melodies
Of where true love begins
Moving on over the ages
Together forever oh so rare
But not impossible at all
When it comes to being
Lady Silver Hair
poem by Theodora Onken
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Silver & Gold
Well, I met an old man walkin down the street
His clothes were torn and tattered
With sandals on his feet
And I stopped to help him
And lend him a hand
He said, I love you so much
But you must understand
1st chorus:
Silver and gold might buy you a home
But things of this world
They wont last you long
And time has a way of turning us old
And time cant be bought back with silver and gold
And he said to me, lets rest for awhile
For I have some good news to share with you, child
He said, you cant change this old world
The people need to know
That a dear savior died here
A long, long time ago
Repeat 1st chorus
His eyes shown like diamonds
And his smile was heaven sent
His hair was long and flowing
And his back was slightly bent
And I knew he knew it
For that day I changed
As I watched him walk on
I forgot to get his name
2nd chorus:
He said, silver and gold cant buy you a home
When this life has ended
And your time is gone
But you can live in a world where
Youll never grow old
And things cant be bought there with silver and gold
Tag:
And time cant be bought back with silver and gold
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver
Silver is a wonderful element,
A fierce wonder, much honoured;
And its help is great, forever,
And forever. I give in to silver.
For silver I take the number of days
To be many for the occupation of mine.
The silvered men and women
Are never the forgotten people;
So choose silver, and wise are you.
Silver is the best metal
Too hard to possess.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Bed Time
mother is
bed time
as mother
tells a lot
of stories
about
strange creatures
like
elastic man
yellow frog
girl
robin hood
red riding hood
manhood
boy with golden
hair
Rapunzel
gazelle
Cinderel la and
Aladdin
we sleep and
mother goes
back to her
bed with father
and the lights
are turned off
and there are
so many dreams
father, mother
and us
and so many of
these dreams
with the
unicorns
and the
dragons sometimes
and the knights
such that
we cannot
anymore
remember
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What is a mother? pt 2
What is a mother? A mother is a friend.
What is a mother? A mother is your hero.
What is a mother? A mother is someone who can make your wishes comes true.
What is a mother? A mother is sugar and spice.
What is a mother? A mother knows all the coolest music and style.
What is a mother? A mother is everything in between.
What is a mother? A mother is a better version of you.
What is a mother? A mother is your mommy till the day that you leave this world behind.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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What is a mother?
What is a mother? A mother is a friend.
What is a mother? A mother is your hero.
What is a mother? A mother is someone who can make your wishes comes true.
What is a mother? A mother is sugar and spice.
What is a mother? A mother knows all the coolest music and style.
What is a mother? A mother is everything in between.
What is a mother? A mother is a better version of you.
What is a mother? A mother is your mommy till the day that you leave this world behind.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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