Best Grayed Poems
O April
how I’ve longed for your return
to breathe new life
into this gnarled body..
for these roots to be unfettered
from the grasping earthen frost -
the past season of fanged nor’easters gnashed
me bare - leaving me mauled and dulled
alone with stiffened limbs
lifted to face
the hard glower of old man winter
with not a morsel of mercy to be gained
but April
now that you're here to share
the innocence of the daisy
and the honeyed scent of the sweet pea
I feel inspirited like a sapling young and tender again;
mild is the fog’s embrace in early morn
as I taste your sweetened rainwater
and gentle is the rhythm of baptizing
showers bathing dark days away..
and ever grateful is my grayed heart
as it begins to beat
with the fresh pulse of verdant rebirth
oh April
how easily you inspire
my shy imagination to fly
with the zephyr's muse
to expand my artistry
in an afternoon’s brushstroke of forsythia light
dreams once frozen now thawed and golden
eager to flourish in bloom
awakening the poetry
in a new leaf’s unfurling whisper -
a whisper that grows a praising wind-psalm
as choirs of bursting buds
celebrate revival
with a rustling alleluia!
star-shaped sails rouse in swishing sounds
their leafy lyrical breath one with the breeze
my green-laden boughs now a wellspring
of exuberant born-again voices
a thronging rejoice lifted
to the heavens on the whisk of the westerlies;
supple is my sweep and sway ‘neath
the soft-bellied skies of Spring
dear lady, April
how I revel in the glorious abundance of your Nature;
your nurture enlivens my humble woody being
and though gray may shade my weather-beaten heart..
evergreen is my soul
Susan Ashley
April 12, 2021
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: April
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Upon a glorious night
A burning fire lit upon my unrented spine
Deafened by fleeting sight
I flee the home that never was quite mine
Crushed in garish fight
Within the corridor I dare to flee
Blinded by his might
While all the sad spirits return to me
Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted
Upon that vaporous eve
Enclosed in bond beyond mortal grief
Lost to the foggy reef
The fog that so lingers in these glistening eyes
That vapor drew me near
Bedazzling more than the moonlit mirror
To where I see him fly
Twas a heart-reaching place I always fear
Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted
Between the beat of my breast
A heart that beats only for him
He slumbers in the clouds
The clouds that pour my poignant prose
Beyond the darkened seas
The wind does carry the scent of his bequest
Within the folding of the storm I cease to rest
Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted
To him my sorrows lay
And fall into the arms of strangers' trembling spine
As light and pain fall gray
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
This is a poem about the future I'd love to have with the boy of my dreams.
None of this has actually happened yet (besides us falling in love with eachother) but it's how I would like it to happen.
Once upon a time, I became the luckiest girl in the world. I fell in love with a gorgeous boy with blue eyes, and he actually loved me back. He was like my prince, he treated me like his princess and would do anything for me. Today, we're united as King and Queen. It's been years, but walking down the aisle I'm still staring at the cutest, most perfect guy I've ever seen. When our lips finally meet after parting to say "I do", it tastes like Heaven.
Once upon a time, I married a gorgeous boy with blue eyes. And today, I saw those perfect blue eyes light up when he first held our little girl in his arms. She's got her Daddy's blue eyes and just a little bit of her Momma's brown hair. She's going to be spoiled and loved more than possible. She'll know we support her no matter what, and she can tell us everything. It will be perfect.
Once upon a time, one set of blue eyes became two, and we were made into a family. Now, that second pair of blue eyes is walking out the door to college, with a suitcase in one hand and a boy's hand in the other. He better love her and treat her just as well as her Daddy does.
Once upon a time, I fell in love with a gorgeous boy with blue eyes. His hair has dulled and grayed but his eyes are the same, and they've seen a lifetime's worth of happiness and love. My baby had babies with the boy she walked out the door with, and I can tell she loves them as much as we loved her. Now it's her time to live.
Pardon ma'am, but I noticed you've been staring at this painting for a while
She is beautiful but has such a melancholy face, it's hard to look away
Her name is Veronique and that's me behind her, the little canary
She's been my sorrowful mistress now for almost two hundred years
When the artist painted her she was wearing a subtle smile but then
Gabriel told her he had to leave for a fortnight and promised to return
He vowed to finish this canvas, painting her smile back on again
but thousands of fortnights and volumes of her tears have come and gone
no sign of Gabriel, so my Lady sits and stares wistfully, remembering him
She touches the bow of her violin but hasn't played since the day he left
I hear her weep late at night when she reads the poem he left for her
The edges of the page are torn and tattered, tear stained parchment
but Veronique reads it night after night then holds it against her heart
He wrote in extravagant hand the words, now on yellowed page:
Thou fill'st my heart with love
More than any winged birds
Could fill the heavens above
Thou art the chalice of my soul
The cup from which I drink
My warmth when I grow cold
Thou art nectar of my desire
Thou art the spark of my fire
Those are words any fair maiden would swoon to have written for her
She still holds hope that her Gabriel will return but I worry about her
She keeps repeating the words he wrote on the back of this painting:
My Veronique ~
Goddess with cinnabar tresses in green velvet dresses
I've told you her name and mine is Cyros. May I ask yours?
A subtle smile crossed her lips, her skin pale and wrinkled with age
This lovely woman with touches of cinnabar in her grayed tresses
Stood with charm and grace. She curtsied in her green velvet dress
In whispered voice said, "Cyros, I am Madame Veronique Rossetti"
Painting: Veronica Veronese Artist: Dante Gabriel Rossetti
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6th of May, 2016 Within A Gilded Frame Contest
Sponsored by: Broken Wings
Hauntingly explicit, plighted
in yesterday's cloaked mystery,
wafting as whispers through
wistfully grayed memories on dimly
recalled moonlit indulgences,
winding imprecise hazy endings
beyond darkly covert horizons
love isn't blind, it's persistently unsighted
by distantly echoed adrift endings
How many are the years our world has been
an entity? And for how many more
has there been sky, the earth’s celestial skin,
which must have somewhat changed from years before?
In purer times, man may have seen it loom
with diamond clarity of layered blues.
Though like today, it also grayed with gloom,
it must have dazzled dusks in splendid hues.
And even now, despite new damage done
to its most fragile part, how it can shine
with utter brilliance, changing with the sun
while we below keep marring sky’s design!
Perhaps a Holocaust will bleed it red.
Though changed, it will remain when all are dead.
Your voice in echo haunting me
Whisper words that resonate,
They call in dreams persistently
And speak of Love that Truth negates.
For you were gone before the morn
You grayed the sunshine from my days,
The faded Trust was never born
These tears remind me that always.
If Sleep would come without a dream,
Oh such comforting release!
The gentle Silence sings it seems
Of songs that drown your voice with ease.
Your echoed Love, please speak no more,
Accord me rest and new tomorrows!
Mute that voice just like before
When my heart knew of no great sorrows.
August 3, 2009
Cynthia BuhainBaello
The sky is a rose this evening.
The country is still and hush.
And a lady in love lies against the glass,
Her cheeks are filled with blush.
The road she watches never changes.
The grass there hardly grows.
For when one waits, as does she...
Time increasingly slows.
Poor girl... poor lady... poor mother.
I'm leaning against her door.
But while she waits for what is gone,
She is seeing her child no more.
The woman I'm watching is changing.
And with aging, has grayed at last.
For when one waits, as do I...
Time is incredibly... fast.
When I think of you, my darling,
I am still that wide-eyed girl
Who held the whole world in her hands
As her heart was set awhirl.
With no thought nor intuition
Of how short a life can be,
We promised "Until by death we part"
With a sweet expectancy.
God gave us such a little time
To wrap up every dream.
The plans we made were not to be
All included in His scheme.
It's not my place to question God,
I knew from the very start,
But I cannot help but wonder why
Our world was torn apart.
You'll be the same, my darling boy
When we are allowed to meet,
But you won't find remembered girl
Who had made your life complete.
It has been another lifetime since
You had to leave me here.
My hair has grayed, my step has slowed,
My eyes are not so clear.
Yes, the years have surely changed me
Since the day we had to part.
To be sure you recognize me,
I'll be carrying my heart.
He goes by the name of Lacrimosa
He is the plain picture of a man
Those who don’t know him see him as a monster
But you and I know better that he is a broken friend
His smile drips of sorrow
His walk is that of a footless ghost
And should you accept his outstretched hand
And succumb to the adoring nature of his gaze
He will lead you away to a dreary place
That he calls home
And the monster will sing sweet nothings to you
And hold you safely in his arms
And though the smile on his orchid face may weep for you
Do not be ungrateful, as it is for you
You can shudder and shake and claw to get away
But you need him as much as he needs you
This puppet man who hangs from a single string
Neck crooked and marbled and hanging to the side
Will frighten and disturb those who can’t see his face
But he will protect you from the ones who claim to love you dear
He’ll hold you close and wherever you go
He’ll be there by your side, his cold hand grasping your own
He’ll be everything you need so you’ll never be alone
He’ll share with you his tears and guilt and blame
And for these gifts he asks nothing in return
But your companionship and smile for only a small time
He knows you cannot stay forever by his side
So when you’re ready to say goodbye
He’ll let you go
And he’ll insist that you keep his gifts
But in time you may throw them away
And turn your back on the weeping thing
Who gave all he had in your time of need
And let his crying fade away
But don’t look back or you’ll see him there
Extending his hand, begging to hold you in his arms once more
And should you choose to return to him
He will always welcome you
And make a place for you by his side
And one day you may decide
To snuff out the man on a string
To throw the gifts he gave back in his blotched, orchid face
And run far far away
So that never again will you see his smile so grayed
Or feel the icy sting of his clammy embrace
Never again will you sigh in the arms of a love once held dearer
Now burdened whenever they look in the mirror
With the image of what they at one time feared
Of a sad smile painted on the picture of a man
Neck crooked and marbled and hung by a string
Dangling a smile loose to the side
Tears scarring his cheeks
His arms open wide
A monster posing as a broken friend
Who goes by the name of Lacrimosa
When you and I were only five
it was fun just being alive
to smell the air and feel the sun
with trails to walk and fields to run
When you and I were just sixteen
our new romance was so pristine
That sudden unexpected kiss
unveiled a hidden world of bliss
And when our childhood was through
and you and I were twenty two
you made my life much more worthwhile
the day I walked you down the aisle
Our lives were rosy and so sweet
and all the world was so complete
The years went faster than before
when you and I were thirty four
So young, I watched you slowing down
as sickness grayed your hair, once brown
When you and I were forty seven
was the year you went to heaven
Our time together was too brief
I sadly ponder in my grief
It's harder now just being alive
than it was when we were five
2/4/19
Wide twisted grayed white cloud of thunder
O'er ground so hallowed waiting in asunder
A tale untold until the flash of crashing light
Unfolds to show the shattered scene of blight
What is this rack of torment in suspense
To cause this pounding redness of intense
Can winds of Wodyn thrust valkyrie thus
The tides are wrong this singing song
Will be the end of us
The tunnel forms to take us in it's dance
As axe and sword a swing to madness trance
Once more to see Valhalla's open door
Or wake to shaking silence on this shore
Bathed in others' blood still yet unsure
The frost has arrived on grass that has grayed,
emerald turned crimson with comfort and ease-
barren branches withered as they swayed,
as Summertime bids farewell to the warm breeze.
Emerald turned crimson with comfort and ease.
My pastels sketch October’s tangerine sunset,
as Summertime bids farewell to the warm breeze.
For this is the season I shan’t ever forget.
My pastels sketch October’s tangerine sunset,
and o, that sky in morn; inhaling serenity-
For this is the season I shan’t ever forget,
if only I had grandma’s warm apple pie recipe.
And o, that sky in morn; inhaling serenity,
old leaves decay resting upon dry fields, array-
If only I had grandma’s warm apple pie recipe,
and drink Starbuck’s warm pumpkin spice latte.
Old leaves decay resting upon dry fields, array.
Soon, I shall be the queen of a candy machine
and drink Starbuck’s warm pumpkin spice latte;
for it’s October, the month we celebrate Halloween.
Soon, I shall be the queen of a candy machine,
barren branches withered as they swayed;
for it’s October, the month we celebrate Halloween - - -
the frost has arrived on grass that has grayed.
October 1, 2019
Poet's October Pantoum Cash Prize Poetry Contest
William Kekaula
Solid gray skies
Over daylilies trying to bloom
Several different species so colorful
Open only a day, live life to the fullest
What have I done with my nearly 29,151 days
Birds fly in
Mostly to feed from birdseeds
The feeders need a refill so they can eat
Those birds usually fly in, overfill before a rain
Another day of possible showers so they have to eat
Fresh seed put out
Mockingbirds zoom across flowerbeds
Land, catch a bug, zoom out
Another mockingbird lands on the cement
Bobbles along like a roadrunner
Redbirds flock in
Hit the red feeder that matches his color, perfect camouflage
Boy, he is eating gourmet food
From the buffet
Rakes out what he doesn't like
Sparrows fly in
Feast upon the discarded seed
That landed upon the cement
They gobble up those small seeds
Fill up in just a small amount of time
Female red cardinal
Flies in and lands on a wood feeder, aged, grayed with time
It seems to match her color perfectly
She is harder to see since she blends in
She fills up and flies away
Amazing
No susurrus in the pines
No crows cawing all the time
Just the symphony of songbirds tickling my ears
And the cymbals clanging out woodpecker's notes
A few minutes out on the porch
How it makes my day
Now a zephyr begins to move
Stirring the asparagus and spirea
Wow! A break in the clouds.
The sunlight beams
Casting its morning light
Across my wildest dreams
A flower garden with more plants
To feed the birds, bees and butterflies
Thank you
God for your creation
For your gift of flowers
A mixture of clouds, rain and sunshine
All of life upon this earth
An old man, grayed, glasses off
is praying at his soup.
A small apple and stale bread is near by,
his interlocked fingers are the proof...
That God does exist,
and his presence is clearly found;
By the quietness of the prayer,
and absence of all sound.
"Please lord bring peace,
to all I loved before.
Heal and bless them,
from every door to door."
With the ending of the prayer, the man ate his food,
One delicious bite at a time, in a spiritual mood.
Saturday, October 2, 2021