Get Your Premium Membership

Grey Hairs

 These are ashes of treasures:
Of hurt and loss.
These are ashes in face of which
Granite is dross.
Dove, naked and brilliant,
It has no mate.
Solomon's ashes
Over vanity that's great.
Time's menacing chalkmark,
Not to be overthrown.
Means God knocks at the door
-- Once the house has burned down!
Not choked yet by refuse,
Days' and dreams' conqueror.
Like a thunderbolt -- Spirit
Of early grey hair.
It's not you who've betrayed me
On the home front, years.
This grey is the triumph
Of immortal powers.

Poem by Marina Tsvetaeva
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Grey HairsEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...



Summaries, Analysis, and Information on "Grey Hairs"

More Poems by Marina Tsvetaeva


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry