Short Grayed Poems

Prancing through the fields
Golden sunrays yield;
Raindrops…
Fall from the grayed ceil,
Cloudy teardrops wield,
Pained crops…
Soon to be fulfilled,
Nourished and then tilled;
Good Marks!...

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Rained,
but it didn't become dark...
The birds fled from the sky,
the heat turned cold, the world clear
grayed out...
Me on my side of the world,
I didn't become upset...
Sans umbrella, the way I delight myself
 i opened the doors of the world
 i and went out to drink the storm...!...

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Way back I thought it was a drag,
suddenly it came to be my fate
then I realized what a joy
it is to be grayed.
And so peace came
in to settle,
taking its
place in
me.
How proudly I carry my gray hair
seeing how dignified I am now.
A wise fellow I have in
my later life become.
An embodiment of
wisdom I am
called by
those in
need....

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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...

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hyenas don’t laugh
for nothing…

wrinkled elephant skin
is grayed with preserving
purpose unseen…

the surviving strength
of fire ants—who though not
born black—have a pretty
good idea of what’s it like…

oh this may sound
like nonsense to you
with sensitized sense
questioning it all…

to me, it’s all
allegorical messaging:
give some thought
to a beehive 
hanging from a tree…...

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Loyal companion 
whose racing paws &
booming howl is heard before
she is seen. 
A wonderful addition to a family 
who’s known loss. 
Grayed from the years, you still seem playful and spritely, 
albeit a little fluffy. 
I wonder if you’d remember me after all this time?
If you’d still excitedly greet me for licks, sniffs, and scratches;
the piece of a broken
relationship I miss the most....

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A dark veil
O'er eyes and ears
Have set phrases to stun.
Standards for me
Omnipotence for thee, 
Tripping over
grayed limping liberty,
Crumbling to a blurry pause.
Trekking through a
Field of freedoms trampled, 
Foraged souls 
Appear and wilt 
In the fiery smartphone snapped chat.

Hypnotized by systemic doping,
we await elusive belly tickles:
To resurrect us from our 
collective nod....

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Pieces of hours, fragmented minutes
As raindrops slide down windows
Tangled skeins of memories unravel
Infusing reverie in melted rainbows
Encroached upon asphalt canvas, absorbing
New moon's amnesia; her silver shadows confiscate
Charcoal regret to grayed sepia, as diamond stars
Elicit PATIENCE to receive the morning.

3/10/19

For Writing Challenge - Inspirational Acrostic
Sponsor: Dear Heart...

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They walk towards the sunset
Still holding hands as in their youth
Fingers intertwined like a net
Their two lives bound together by truth

Their hair is grayed and thinning
Their eyes and ears do fade
Proof, gravity and time are winning
Yet their hearts would not trade

But a moment of their journey together
To taste again the joys of yore
Even through life’s storms and weather
Pray, to touch that hand once more...

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In the cold mid-winter gales
you dare not hoist those mastif sails
the winds are brisk and far too cold
barreling restless taunts from days of old.

Come in to the harbor safe
where the lighthouse greets you in its wake
and should the light be dulled and grayed
let me help you find your way.

Slip in gently thru the darkened night
cautious and guided by my heart light.






Eve Roper contest Lighthouse 12/20/18...

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The sun’s become our enemy;
It’s something to avoid
And sitting without sunscreen
Can make someone paranoid.

In younger days we basked outside,
Reflectors set in place
To catch those rays, which guaranteed
A tan we would embrace.

But now the dermatologists
Give warnings we must heed – 
With unprotected skin we will
Get cancer, guaranteed.

I’ll follow this advice
But it’s okay; since I have grayed,
I much prefer when I’m outdoors
Relaxing in the shade....

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My thoughts edge out at a slowing pace
From memory to memory with rusted grace  
There’s a picture standing beside my chair
It strains my thought and harbors my stare

The photo itself, a grayed black and white
It’s perfectly framed in the autumn light
There we are on a bench on a pier
I remember neither from yesteryear

There in my palm is a warm cupcake
An offering to her, its hers to take 
Her smile and eyes suggest warmth too
Once more I wonder if she knew...

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Listen to the way it starts
For more than any song,
It brings me to the 60’s
Where my young self did belong.

I’m with my friends, a Friday night;
The joint is being passed,
With not a thought inside our heads
Our lifestyle wouldn’t last.

The years fly by, those days are gone,
The memory still sweet
Yet it comes front and center
When I hear those notes and beat.

Santana’s on the stage,
“Black Magic Woman” being played
And I am years away from being
Nana, old and grayed....

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Grayed swell
Foamed chop thrashes the rocks
The wind scatters the seabirds above
Their aerial skills flustered with rush
Gloomy skies deter natures light 
Each cloud acting as a closing door
 
As i sit and look out
Beside me, raven of doom
As it hangs its head
Knowing my loved one has been consumed
In my heart i pray 
A cloud relaxes and a ray of hope shines through
 
Until then i sit
Sodden with grief
My upbringing
My belief


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/loss2.php...

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