Silverstruck ( a poem about silver hair)


This poem about silver hair was inspired by the writer Donna Ashworth, whose meaningful words reach so many women. You can find out more about her work here:

While my usual chosen written medium is blogging, I wanted to turn my hand to poetry, as I’ve always enjoyed reading poetry.

I wanted to combine my love of writing with my love of silver hair, so one day, around my 49th birthday, this poem was born. You can read more on my silver hair journey here:

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Silverstruck – a poem about silver hair

I had just turned 19, when silver struck, 
It sprung from my parting. ‘Hello Anna!’
I pulled and I plucked to vanquish this blight
‘I’m still squeezing spots. I’m too young for white.’

In my 20s, tweezers poised, Mr Miyagi style,
The silvers expanded, ‘I hate you, you’re vile.’
I slathered on potions of red, brown, and black
To conceal the rogue hairs, but they always fought back.

My 30s were spent with bumble bee stripes,
An unhealthy addiction to tin foil highlights
The cost to my pocket and my hair
Forced Mahogany box dye, buyer beware!

My 40th birthday, I opt for a crop,
But defiant wire silvers sprout out the top
Salon strength chemicals don’t cover the white,
Root touch up to regrowth is every fortnight.

I’m 47 and loathing fried blorange hair,
Where have I gone? Am I still in there?
The harsh light of day and changed skin tone
Is making me feel like a middle-aged clone.

Silver rose to the surface, like snowdrops in Spring,
‘Hello, my old friend’ I said cordially, ‘here is the thing’
‘If I give you your freedom, will you restore mine?
Time to go on that journey and see if we shine.

One year has passed, transformation bound
Hair adorned with silver; a lost woman found.
Thirty years of grey denial, one year to accept
We are entwined in mutual love and respect.

I have just turned 49 and silverstruck,
With a head full of diamonds, what good luck.

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