My life is a web of grey; Occasionally there is a thread of gold or blue woven into the pattern. These are the days that I have been serene -- content. Then there are threads of crimson and of rose. These are the times that I have loved, or met a friend again. Around my life will be a border of soft and somber green -- the turf above my grave. The gold, the blue, the crimson and the rose -- the sky above me. And then the grey again In granite for my tomb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON by RICHARD LOVELACE JEWISH HYMN IN BABYLON by HENRY HART MILMAN THE IMMORTALS by ISAAC ROSENBERG NATIONAL ODE; INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA by BAYARD TAYLOR ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. MR. GEORGE WHITEFIELD, 1770 by PHILLIS WHEATLEY |