The Grey World

Grey nights in the wind,
And the grey-faced dead.
Grey hairs in my head,
And grey eyes in my mind.

Grey mists in the morn,
And grey waves that rave,
Grey mould on my grave,
And grey eyes forlorn.

Grey clouds in the sky,
And the grey world asleep,
Grey ghosts that sigh,
And grey eyes that weep.

poem by Leon Gellert
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Decrepit body
With graying hair
Tidy love!

haiku by Ashraful Musaddeq
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Blue Sky?

Blue sky yesterday
Grey today
Did the blue sky
Go away?

What is blue
And sunny too?
The blue sky
Hiding behind the grey.

Grey today
But with blue sky
Waiting to come out
And play.

The sun is laughing
At my blueness
Blue sky with its greyness
Never meant for sadness.

[...] Read more

poem by David Taylor
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Grey, Grey Sky

Someday I will ride the great bird
Into the sky, into the grey
And will take a bright secret of mine
Into the grey, grey sky.

And the light will come, piercing my eyes
Out of the sky, out of the grey
Come blinding and searing these eyes
Out of the grey, grey sky.

And I will find comfort in this
In the wide sky, in the wide grey
In the painful dark brightness of light
Light of the grey, grey sky.

My secret will fly away home
Into the sky, into the grey
And the great bird will follow it there
Into the grey, grey sky.

[...] Read more

poem by Grace Hutton
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casting no glances
at me
Time is a hectic traveller -
I've greyed
inside out

tanka by Chenou Liu
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The shades of respectability begin to close about the greying head.

quote by Mason Cooley
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Grey Wolves Grey

The Russian march is soft and slow,
Through dust and heat, or slush and snow,
When the Russian skies hang grey and low
To the frontiers far where the Russians go;
And they march to-night and they march to-day
Like the grey wolves grey, like the grey wolves grey.
Nor song nor sound their track reveals,
Save the ceaseless “clock” of the waggon wheels;
But a rift in the mist shows a glint of sun
On the long, dark shape of a toiling gun;
And they strain by night and they drag by day
To a distant goal, like the grey wolves grey.

As the horses toil at the ends of trains,
And the ends of roads on the Blacksoil Plains.
And Ivan digs in the frozen clay,
And he rolls the logs a bed to lay
For a gun that’s five hundred miles away,
But as sure to come as the grey wolves grey.

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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Dying Degree

Dresser droors are filled with pocket change
Coupons cut, cigarettes smoked down to the butt,
Is this what dreams are made of!
Adding up subtracting down you find yourself sucking the rind
Dying degree, graying amie
Final payment made - had you forgot?
The rightful owner of one deluxe cemetary plot
Paisley satin lined how apprapoe
What a better way to go
Dying degree, graying amie
No more eating crumbs
When my pension finally comes
Your kids want eat mush anymore round me
Dying degree, graying amie

song performed by NOFX
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Grey Rocks, and Greyer Sea

Grey rocks, and greyer sea,
   And surf along the shore --
And in my heart a name
   My lips shall speak no more.

The high and lonely hills
   Endure the darkening year --
And in my heart endure
   A memory and a tear.

Across the tide a sail
   That tosses, and is gone --
And in my heart the kiss
   That longing dreams upon.

Grey rocks, and greyer sea,
   And surf along the shore --
And in my heart the face
   That I shall see no more.

poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
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Sunshine coming days
From under the moody grays
- Nature's turning ways

haiku by Peter S. Quinn
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My idea of what's good and bad and right and wrong is maybe greyer than most, and I like writing about that.

quote by Shaun Cassidy
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In the night all cats are gray.

classic quote by Miguel de Cervantes
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Comparison

THE sky of brightest gray seems dark
To one whose sky was ever white.
To one who never knew a spark,
Thro' all his life, of love or light,
The grayest cloud seems over-bright.
The robin sounds a beggar's note
Where one the nightingale has heard,
But he for whom no silver throat
Its liquid music ever stirred,
Deems robin still the sweetest bird.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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I sometimes use a lot of light greens and greys when I feel there is sadness in the painting.

quote by Robert Ryan
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Fog Bank

Fog bank greys the oceanside's day
While sun shines bayside bright
Upon the waters.

(3.8.8 Travels)

poem by Heather Z. Hanna
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It’s August now

It’s August now
That my dread locks
Are graying
But I still
Vvisit the gay
Chat room
To see what
Our youths
Are up to.

poem by David E. Patton
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Horses should be bays, jackasses should be greys, and mules should be blackish.

Sicilian proverbs
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Sun My Love

oh sun, sun wherefore art thou
you deny me your face
i am in company of despair
wish to no longer be here

rain- the one who refreshes
with his smile and sings us
gently and lovingly to sleep
with sweet lullabies

came to visit the castle
by the aqua blue sea
he brought his friends
grey cloud and grayest cloud

quickly
sunprincess made plans
to travel to a sunny tropical isle
to see her love-
the sun

poem by Rachel Nichols
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Bacon Francis

So shall i kill them slowly
Twisted knives sharp honed by fate
And lay their bodies there before them
Like fresh chops upon a plate?

So shall they kiss oblivion
So shall they learn to dread
The greyest of grim reapers
Whose words burn a bloody red.

So shall i wreak my vengeance
so shall i dim their light
their lives forever fearful
not knowing when i'll strike.

poem by David Keig
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One Day Nearer Spring

The weather cold this morning it is only two degrees
And a thick fog through the woodland, I can hardly see the trees
And the wildborn birds are silent there is scarcely any breeze
It's a day for woolly jumper though not cold enough to freeze.

For Winter in Victoria the weather seems quite dry
And the mornings foggy and quite cold allowing for July
And the fog doesn't lift till mid morning and the sun shines through the gray
And you see the grayness of your breath on a chilly Winter
day.

But only yesterday I saw male blackbird searching for a nesting site
On the ivy along galvanize fence in mid afternoon sunlight
And from there he flew to camellia tree as he pondered on where best
Might be the safest place for him and his mate to build their year's first nest.

The last leaves off of deciduous tree lay scattered on the ground
And in the grayness of the dawn the silence is profound,
The ghost like trees shrouded in gray and the birds refuse to sing
But every Winter day that dawns is one day nearer Spring.

poem by Francis Duggan
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