A Grey Day

Related poetry:

1. The Story of Mongrel Grey This is the story the stockman told On the cattle-camp, when the stars were bright; The moon rose up like a globe of gold And flooded the plain with her mellow light. We watched the cattle till dawn of day And he told me the story of Mongrel Grey. He was a knock-about station hack, […]...
2. By the Grey Gulf-water Far to the Northward there lies a land, A wonderful land that the winds blow over, And none may fathom or understand The charm it holds for the restless rover; A great grey chaos a land half made, Where endless space is and no life stirreth; There the soul of a man will recoil afraid […]...
3. Grey Evening When you went, how was it you carried with you My missal book of fine, flamboyant hours? My book of turrets and of red-thorn bowers, And skies of gold, and ladies in bright tissue? Now underneath a blue-grey twilight, heaped Beyond the withering snow of the shorn fields Stands rubble of stunted houses; all is […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Sad-Eyed and Soft and Grey Sad-Eyed and soft and grey thou art, o morn! Across the long grass of the marshy plain Thy west wind whispers of the coming rain, Thy lark forgets that May is grown forlorn Above the lush blades of the springing corn, Thy thrush within the high elms strives in vain To store up tales of […]...
6. The Great Grey Plain Out West, where the stars are brightest, Where the scorching north wind blows, And the bones of the dead gleam whitest, And the sun on a desert glows Yet within the selfish kingdom Where man starves man for gain, Where white men tramp for existence Wide lies the Great Grey Plain. No break in its […]...
7. The House Of Dust: Part 02: 11: Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on the dark tower wreathes and flares. . . The trodden grass in the park is covered with white, The streets grow silent beneath our feet. . . The city dreams, it forgets its past to-night. […]...
8. Grey Gull ‘Twas on an iron, icy day I saw a pirate gull down-plane, And hover in a wistful way Nigh where my chickens picked their grain. An outcast gull, so grey and old, Withered of leg I watched it hop, By hunger goaded and by cold, To where each fowl full-filled its crop. They hospitably welcomed […]...
9. The Grey Monk “I die, I die!” the Mother said, “My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless Tyrant said?” The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk’s side, His hands and feet were wounded wide, His body bent, his arms and knees Like to the […]...
10. Stony Grey Soil O stony grey soil of Monaghan The laugh from my love you thieved; You took the gay child of my passion And gave me your clod-conceived. You clogged the feet of my boyhood And I believed that my stumble Had the poise and stride of Apollo And his voice my thick tongued mumble. You told […]...
11. I see around me tombstones grey I see around me tombstones grey Stretching their shadows far away. Beneath the turf my footsteps tread Lie low and lone the silent dead – Beneath the turf – beneath the mould – Forever dark, forever cold – And my eyes cannot hold the tears That memory hoards from vanished years For Time and Death […]...
12. Bilbo's Last Song (At the Grey Havens) Day is ended, dim my eyes, But journey long before me lies. Farewell, friends! I hear the call. The ship’s beside the stony wall. Foam is white and waves are grey; Beyond the sunset leads my way. Foam is salt, the wind is free; I hear the rising of the sea. Farewell, friends! The sails […]...
13. The Granny Grey, a Love Tale DAME DOWSON, was a granny grey, Who, three score years and ten, Had pass’d her busy hours away, In talking of the Men! They were her theme, at home, abroad, At wake, and by the winter fire, Whether it froze, or blew, or thaw’d, In sunshine or in shade, her ire Was never calm’d; for […]...
14. The Grey Rock Poets with whom I learned my trade. Companions of the Cheshire Cheese, Here’s an old story I’ve remade, Imagining ‘twould better please Your cars than stories now in fashion, Though you may think I waste my breath Pretending that there can be passion That has more life in it than death, And though at bottling […]...
15. The Grey Eros WE are desert leagues apart; Time is misty ages now Since the warmth of heart to heart Chased the shadows from my brow. Oh, I am so old, meseems I am next of kin to Time, The historian of her dreams From the long-forgotten prime. You have come a path of flowers. What a way […]...
16. A Grey Mood As we hurry away to the end, my friend, Of this sad little farce called existence, We are sure that the future will bring one thing, And that is the grave in the distance. And so when our lives run along all wrong, And nothing seems real or certain, We can comfort ourselves with the […]...
17. Six Feet Of Sod This is the end of all my ways, My wanderings on earth, My gloomy and my golden days, My madness and my mirth. I’ve bought ten thousand blades of grass To bed me down below, And here I wait the days to pass Until I go. Until I bid good bye to friend, To feast […]...
18. For Mac A dead starfish on a beach He has five branches Representing the five senses Representing the jokes we did not tell each other Call the earth flat Call other people human But let this creature lie Flat upon our senses Like a love Prefigured in the sea That died. And went to water All the […]...
19. Absence Your words dropped into my heart like pebbles into a pool, Rippling around my breast and leaving it melting cool. Your kisses fell sharp on my flesh like dawn-dews from the limb, Of a fruit-filled lemon tree when the day is young and dim. But a silence vasty-deep, oh deeper than all these ties Now, […]...
20. By the Margin of the Great Deep WHEN the breath of twilight blows to flame the misty skies, All its vaporous sapphire, violet glow and silver gleam With their magic flood me through the gateway of the eyes; I am one with the twilight’s dream. When the trees and skies and fields are one in dusky mood, Every heart of man is […]...
21. THE SPINNER As I calmly sat and span, Toiling with all zeal, Lo! a young and handsome man Pass’d my spinning-wheel. And he praised, what harm was there? Sweet the things he said Praised my flax-resembling hair, And the even thread. He with this was not content, But must needs do more; And in twain the thread […]...
22. I think that the Root of the Wind is Water I think that the Root of the Wind is Water It would not sound so deep Were it a Firmamental Product Airs no Oceans keep Mediterranean intonations To a Current’s Ear There is a maritime conviction In the Atmosphere...
23. Pour Prendre Conge I’m sick of embarking in dories Upon an emotional sea. I’m wearied of playing Dolores (A role never written for me). I’ll never again like a cub lick My wounds while I squeal at the hurt. No more I’ll go walking in public, My heart hanging out of my shirt. I’m tired of entwining me […]...
24. Love Poem Yours is the face that the earth turns to me, Continuous beyond its human features lie The mountain forms that rest against the sky. With your eyes, the reflecting rainbow, the sun’s light Sees me; forest and flower, bird and beast Know and hold me forever in the world’s thought, Creation’s deep untroubled retrospect. When […]...
25. The Song Of The Happy Shepherd The woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey Truth is now her painted toy; Yet still she turns her restless head: But O, sick children of the world, Of all the many changing things In dreary dancing past us whirled, To the cracked […]...
26. Our March Beat the squares with the tramp of rebels! Higher, rangers of haughty heads! We’ll wash the world with a second deluge, Now’s the hour whose coming it dreads. Too slow, the wagon of years, The oxen of days – too glum. Our god is the god of speed, Our heart – our battle drum. Is […]...
27. Hamlet Off-Stage: Hambeau Heartbroke Horny Ophelia claims we’re dead and gives me back All my Frank Zappa and the Mothers albums. I nearly claw out of my shell and say, “You can’t,” but for a moment I’ve nothing To quote. I’m rot, mortis of broken heart. Hog wash! Lovers don’t die of broken hearts. Lovebirds perish because of broken heads, […]...
28. Three Ghosts THREE tailors of Tooley Street wrote: We, the People. The names are forgotten. It is a joke in ghosts. Cutters or bushelmen or armhole basters, they sat Cross-legged stitching, snatched at scissors, stole each Other thimbles. Cross-legged, working for wages, joking each other As misfits cut from the cloth of a Master Tailor, They sat […]...
29. The Army Mules Oh the airman’s game is a showman’s game, for we all of us watch him go With his roaring soaring aeroplane and his bombs for the blokes below, Over the railways and over the dumps, over the Hun and the Turk, You’ll hear him mutter, “What ho, she bumps,” when the Archies get to work. […]...
30. At a Hasty Wedding If hours be years the twain are blest, For now they solace swift desire By bonds of every bond the best, If hours be years. The twain are blest Do eastern stars slope never west, Nor pallid ashes follow fire: If hours be years the twain are blest, For now they solace swift desire....
31. A New World I WHO had sought afar from earth The faery land to meet, Now find content within its girth And wonder nigh my feet. To-day a nearer love I choose And seek no distant sphere; For aureoled by faery dews The dear brown breasts appear. With rainbow radiance come and go The airy breaths of day; […]...
32. Modern Love XIX: No State Is Enviable No state is enviable. To the luck alone Of some few favoured men I would put claim. I bleed, but her who wounds I will not blame. Have I not felt her heart as ’twere my own Beat thro’ me? could I hurt her? heaven and hell! But I could hurt her cruelly! Can I […]...
33. The Bench-Legged Fyce Speakin’ of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce Hed most o’ the virtues, an’ nary a vice. Some folks called him Sooner, a name that arose From his predisposition to chronic repose; But, rouse his ambition, he couldn’t be beat – Yer bet yer he got thar on all his four feet! Mos’ dorgs hez some forte […]...
34. Dream tryst The breaths of kissing night and day Were mingled in the eastern Heaven, Throbbing with unheard melody, Shook Lyra all its star-cloud seven. When dusk shrank cold, and light trod shy, And dawn’s grey eyes were troubled grey; And souls went palely up to the sky, And mine to Lucidè, There was no change in […]...
35. The Winds of Angus THE GREY road whereupon we trod became as holy ground: The eve was all one voice that breathed its message with no sound: And burning multitudes pour through my heart, too bright, too blind, Too swift and hurried in their flight to leave their tale behind. Twin gates unto that living world, dark honey-coloured eyes, […]...
36. On a Hillside A FRIENDLY mountain I know; As I lie on the green slope there It sets my heart in a glow And closes the door on care. A thought I try to frame- I was with you long ago; My soul from your heart out-came; Mountain, is that not so? Take me again, dear hills, Open […]...
37. Tom That Tom was poor was sure a pity, Such guts for learning had the lad; He took to Greek like babe to titty, And he was mathematic mad. I loved to prime him up with knowledge, A brighter lad I never knew; I dreamed that he would go to college And there be honoured too. […]...
38. The Desolate Field Vast and grey, the sky Is a simulacrum To all but him whose days Are vast and grey and- In the tall, dried grasses A goat stirs With nozzle searching the ground. My head is in the air But who am I. . . ? -and my heart stops amazed At the thought of love […]...
39. The Receptionist France is the fairest land on earth, Lovely to heart’s desire, And twice a year I span its girth, Its beauty to admire. But when a pub I seek each night, To my profound vexation On form they hand me I’ve to write My occupation. So once in a derisive mood My pen I nibbled; […]...
40. One Of Twain One of twain, twin-born with flowers that waken, Now hath passed from sense of sun and rain: Wind from off the flower-crowned branch hath shaken One of twain. One twin flower must pass, and one remain: One, the word said soothly, shall be taken, And another left: can death refrain? Two years since was love’s […]...