Strokes after midnight
received a distant sad news
a swallow has flown
Watch over us dear
I kept my prayers for you
frosted in flowers
Damp eyelids,misty breath,
Foggy-streets' dim lights,
Leafless trees,concrete boughs.
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.
Hope is a promise that comes with new snow
And fills our tomorrows with a newfound trail
Pristine, untouched in the moonlit glow
Pause for a moment, bid the midnight farewell
Yearning for adventure, with new footsteps we'll go…
New paths of discovery lie waiting for me
Each step I will tread, so velvety slow
We’ll walk hand and hand, leaving yesterday’s bed
Yesterday’s sorrow, left beneath downy lace
Each step is brand new...like an unwritten slate
As we walk in this New Year, and a new hope begins
Rejoice, in a gift of this velvety grace
Happy New Year to You All !
For Francine's Contest
The city still bears traces of the last blizzard,
which came after Christmas Day to amaze all;
snow returns in the form of on old wizard...
performing its magical powers to enthrall.
Traveling on the Brooklyn Bridge so dim...
my moodiness intensifies, feeling more grim;
I can see Manhattan's skyscrapers glittering
on a quite January snowy evening.
She wakes from a dream, dripping with tears of sweat pouring down her face. Her long blonde hair is pasted to her forehead as she sits up in her bed. The clock reads 3:03am. Her heart is pounding rhythmically to the ticking of her wrist watch. Her long legs that are wrapped in her white down comforter are extremely cold, and she realizes that a harsh draft is seeping through the window sill beside her bed. As she pulls back the curtains to check the window for cracks in the ledge, her eyes grow wide with amazement. The street lights reveal swirls of frosted confetti which overwhelm the pitch blackness of the night. It has not snowed this hard since she was a little girl and suddenly the terror of her dream dissipates. She jumps out of bed, slips on her purple fuzzy slippers, along with her matching robe and runs down the stairs.
The stars glisten
Icicles hang still
Her front door swings open from the harsh embrace of the wind and she manages to drift on to her porch. Her foot prints smear the freshly painted deck but they are quickly filled up again by the urgency of heavens winter release. Her eyes begin to spill like water falls and her rosy face along with the rest of her body goes numb. However, the arctic chill was worth it to her. The last time she had seen her father was on a night like this. He loved the snow and every part of its splendor reminded her of him. The howling in the air, the cold that cut through her pajama pants like a knife, the snowflakes the size of marshmallows and the cars that look like giant igloos. Even the smell of the wood burning across the street in her neighbor’s fireplace all made her feel like her father was near. It was like heaven had stopped by to visit her this night.
By: Sabina Nicole
light fractures the
gray. Weak pink and plum
shimmer, a watery blue
sky. I turn my face to meet the
rise - cheeks washed with cold. An Icy fog
fills my view with the pale color of frost
Frozen lakes and ponds
Blustery winds are blowing
Icicles hang down
Branches bare and grey
Poor sunshine does not warm us
Snowdrops raise their heads
8th May 2014
Written for contest 2 Haiku (describing the month of January)
sponsored by Skat A
It's not wintry bliss in January when lovely snow
turns into sheets of ice,
and tears run down everybody's burning eyes:
yell, " Winter, leave now! "
Unless you are a wild and playful kid,
and you like building a fat snowman
that looks very happy in the cool shade:
aren't winter days fun without any rain?
Falling snow on trees is truly breathtaking,
its the gelid wind that is not welcome by many,
that's why they go to warmer places hurrying:
it's their way of saying, " Winter, go away! "
Entered in Francine Roberts's contest,
" Winter Begone "
Written on 1/ 25/ 2013
January's cousin Fall left in a fit
For January brought her friend, Wind howling long
Denuded the trees of all their gowns knit
Now her great Aunt Spring feels no way strong
Great Aunt Spring has gone underground safely
Hidden from January's cold icy tricks
Underground or faraway supersafely
Waiting for Spring's return with corner tricks
Spring has a way to drive cold January
Far away up to Canada's great north
Where January cold winter wind that's airy
Really belongs, yeah Spring come forth
Birds and animals with heavy coats sing
With January but rejoice when enters spring
(Had started this one for a contest)