Throw in the towel.

Throw in the left side of your brain.

Remember now to speak against

the polliwogs infiltrating your dreams.

A dozen ships have sunk under the banner

of righteous revenge. Still, people

are talking about the end, as if

such a thing was predictable.

The end will come but not with wings of fire

or because of the clocking of the millennium.

Children are new. Antelopes are running

unharvested fields. Death has no beauty, though

some will tell you different, some who have never

touched lips with Death or felt Its cold, eternal hold.

There are patterns in the fallen leaves that none but

the birds can know. Wait now for winter, for something

immaculate to cover up, then to renew, the old.



Copyright © 2000 by Allison Grayhurst



Published in “Eskimo Pie” May 2017


Published in “Scarlet Leaf Review” June 2017


You can listen to the poem by clicking below:


“Allison Grayhurst intertwines a potent spirituality throughout her work so that each poem is not simply a statement or observation, but a revelation that demands the reader’s personal involvement. Grayhurst’s poetic genius is profound and evident. Her voice is uniquely authentic, undeniable in its dignified vulnerability as it is in its significance,” Kyp Harness, singer/songwriter, author.

“Allison Grayhurst’s poems are like cathedrals witnessing and articulating in unflinching graphic detail the gritty angst and grief of life, while taking it to rare clarity, calm and comfort. Grayhurst’s work is haunting, majestic and cleansing, often leaving one breathless in the wake of its intelligence, hope, faith and love amidst the muck of life. Many of Allison Grayhurst’s poems are simply masterpieces. Grayhurst’s poetry is a lighthouse of intelligent honour… indeed, intelligence rips through her work like white water,” Taylor Jane Green, Registered Spiritual Psychotherapist and author.



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