These Snow Christmas poems are examples of Christmas poems about Snow. These are the best examples of Snow Christmas poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
I stood on the balcony one night,
The land was bathed in luminous light,
The air was filled with winter's chill,
Frost had covered the window sill.
I stared into the sky above,
My heart had swelled full of love,
The galaxy glowed with bright stars,
Lights so heavenly, from afar.
The night shone bright on every hill,
Yet, everything was quiet and still,
Through the valley no wind did blow,
The little village blanketed in snow.
What joy the Yule is going to bring,
At the break of dawn, the town will sing,
Making this, one eve to remember,
On one magical night of December.
But, in this fantasy land it is late,
And this seasonable panorama is great,
I want to take this long walk alone,
Through unchanging scenery, I wander from home.
I'll take a candle to light my way,
Upon the ice, I could walk until day,
I made it up a deep, glittering bank,
In the glistening snowflakes, my feet sank.
A million diamonds now covered the land,
I pulled my mittens on, over my hands,
The snow could never melt in this cold,
The Northern degrees of stories once told.
I will enjoy the winter as in days of old,
The still photographs of the past unfold,
A thermometer shows the drop of degrees,
The thaw of the snow I hope not to see.
Mirrored is my reflection along the river,
Quartz crystals of ice, makes me shiver,
Icicles hang from a cabin, near the woods,
Silently, wolves and elk in the forest, stood.
Reindeer and rabbits run through the snow,
A memorable sight in the lovely moon's glow,
An owl calls out from high in a tree,
Imagine all this, as a keepsake to see.
Tomorrow the snow will make the children sing,
To the hills, a toboggan they will bring,
Soon, we will hear his sleigh bells ring,
And, all the Christmas bells will be jingling!
Written by : Kelly Deschler
For Leonora Galinta's contest - Christmas Epic
Snow sprinkles the ground
as delicate as sugar
crystallizing the exterior with a romantic heritage
only found in the heart of a child's imagination.
Like happiness it can melt in your hands,
and like happiness it can grow bitter like the ice you slip on
Forming miraculously to the curves of the earth
hugging till the land soaks in it's providence
white like the pages I battle with
Falling so passionately you'd think it was falling in love with the ground
And when it lands,
A blanket of perfection
glistening the season to a crisp
gently the sun arises
"there's no where to go today,
I'm just going to sit and enjoy the magic."
As the snow falls around me, I marvel at God’s wholesome and worthy entity.
The Lord, on his special day, has given me a gift so precious and special;
He has opened my eyes to his wondrous glory.
The Lord above all has allowed me to see the beauty in the smallest of things:
The stars and moon at night, and the clouds and sun by day;
The little trickles of freezing cold, yet clean, fresh, clear water
Running down the mountainsides, quenching my insatiable thirst;
The trees in all their grandeur,
That provide my warmth when I gather their branches;
The leaves and pine needles at my feet,
Providing soft beds for me and all the forest creatures.
Best of all of these, however, is the snow.
The beautiful snow in which no two snowflakes are the same.
The same biting cold, yet strangely comforting and fulfilling snow,
In which brings forth light on the darkest of days.
I must thank the all-loving God, who has bestowed upon me this glorious gift.
Me, a pathetic excuse for a soldier who has run away
From the sight of bloodshed because I cannot stand to fight another friend.
Me, a coward who is now running from the law,
And living solely in the forest for fear of being caught and hanged.
Me, a God-believing man who has sinned greatly.
But I have repented. I have asked God for forgiveness of my sins on Christmas Eve night,
And He has replied by giving me snow on Christmas morning,
showing me that I am not alone, and that I should not be afraid.
And, by His grace, when all I have been seeing was darkness and despair,
He opened me up to allow me to see the beauty and light in all his creation.
“I praise You, oh glorious God, for giving me this most wonderful gift!
I thank You for forgiving me, a sinner, of all my wrongdoings,
and for giving me this awe-inspiring gift, for which I have done nothing to deserve!
I exalt you on high, oh Lord, for all that you have done and given me,
and will do for me and give me! I will love and praise you always!
There is nothing with so much life as a Christmas snow
The crisp air is still as little dancing stars float to the earth
Strong old trees become burdened with drifts of white upon their bows
But seem honored to be dressed in such finery and appear almost to move
In fact, everything has come to life to watch the snowfall.
Then everything is quiet
There is a whisper in the air
It ripples through the trees
See the birds, they are the first to recognize the whisper
As the Masters of Chorus, the birds know it is a song
They sit as true musicians memorizing the lyrics and rhythm
So, the snow speaks, the voice is old, like it has sung this song many times
As the squirrels could tell you this is a lullaby, and they begin to search from their
perches in the trees for the newborn
And life and love has never felt as strong as now
A horse in its pastures stomps his foot disturbed
Though he hears the song the birds do and the lullaby the squirrels hear, he,
along with all of the worlds creatures, could swear he just heard a cry
The squirrels chatter with laughter, knowing they where right and the birds take
up the snow-song to welcome the child they heard cry
And then they stop and the world is silent
The snow has stopped falling
The cry was only a memory from Christmas long past
The child, a child of time whose
Voice comes with the Christmas snows,
To give every soul the chance to hear
The song of joy and love and beginning,
So it is never forgotten;
The song of the Christmas Snow
His warm tears fall onto the ground
Melting the snow where he cries
In the background he hears a cheery sound
Carolers singing carols on this Christmas night
There’s something about Christmas he always enjoyed
The sound of holiday music since he was a boy
Flashbacks instantly come into his mind
Leaving the sense of sadness temporarily behind
His mother shined the diamond into his eyes
Just to see her smile was his paradise
So many years have passed since she died
Though he’ll always remember the comfort she brought to his life
Sadly today, he’s homeless with nowhere to go tonight
The snow only reminds him of getting frost bite
Somehow he has to find comfort from being cold
Suddenly he found something shining on the snow
He picked it up slowly and admired what he saw
It was a treasure, a diamond that left him in awe
A shine suddenly cascaded into the man’s eyes
Instantly he knew it was his mother helping him to stay alive
Quickly he cashed out the diamond at a jewelry store
Grateful that he didn’t have to sleep outside anymore
Embraced the feeling that his mother came to his rescue
For he was never forgotten for even in death, her love still shined through…
Ah, the glorious damned winter
and the inviting
gray chill in the air.
with a cluttered array
of pagan snow zombies -
as I obliterate pint-sized
failing to don halos
that could have easily been
brush stroked with
da Vinci's golden teardrops.
"I suggest you peruse Alighieri’s 'Inferno' –
it may, at least, promote heat - if not hope!"
Frost continues to cloud my spectacles -
thick and relentless
eagerly permeating the glass -
endeavoring to dance
a feverish Fantasia foxtrot
upon the skins of my pupils.
My heavy feet scuffle
past these endearing peasants.
forgotten Mt. Everest tombstones.
Disgraced outcasts of embarrassment -
smashed against a stark white canvas
hands cut off –
sticking out their parched tongues
begging for alms.
Click and count.
Their fragile bodies so much alive
their dark, hallowed eyes
(So be it)
They stealthily huddle alone -
(Hah! I’ve created my own personal oxymoron!)
These gruesome street urchin waifs -
Dumber than a sackful of hammers and
frostier than a Maine Christmas morn,
convulsing and shivering ‘neath lampposts
without snow shoes or socks,
bawling and boo-hooing...
“Clutching weather-worn copies
of James Hilton’s 'Lost Horizon'
and littering the virgin snow
with salty saline discharge –
igniting street corner bonfires
without the faintest hint of smoke."
Ah, the glorious damned winter
and that magnificent gray chill in the air.
My arctic thighs carry me home now
where I am safe.
Where I can slam my door
and shut my eyes.
My cavernous domicile
whereas I can privately converse
with Mr. Dickens and Mr. O’Neill
and read “A Christmas Carol”
or “The Iceman Cometh” -
without a snaggle-toothed interruption...
Listen to the haunting strains of L’Inverno
from Vivaldi’s “Le Quattro Staggioni”
and cackle wildly as I burn first editions
of Clement Clark Moore’s
most infamous penning -
pour myself a
tall glass of ice cubes -
devour a heaping bowl
of vichyssoise -
scarf down a fudgcicle
turn the air conditioner
All I remember is going into the garage to get the snow shovel.
I am not even sure how much of the driveway I managed to shovel. Apparently, I was lying in the snow for several hours before one of the neighbors noticed me.
The next thing I remember is waking up from a deep sleep to the sounds of beeping machines with tubes and wires stuck into and on my body.
As I slowly regained consciousness and my eyes were able to focus, I was aware of a young, bald child looking down on me.
“Hi,” said the smiling, angelic face. Given the child’s age and complete baldness, I could not tell whether they were a boy or a girl. And, with the tube inserted in my throat and taped to my mouth, I was in no position to return their salutation.
I tried to remember who this child might be and why they were here with me. I guess my eyes displayed my confusion as the child said, “I'm Elizabeth. They let me walk around the hospital a little. Sometimes I sneak out of the oncology wing and look for people who have no visitors. I like to make sure someone is there when they wake up. I know I always like to see someone when I wake up from my operations.”
She just stood above me smiling. I then noticed she was holding my hand.
“Sometimes it is hard for family members or friends to come visit. Some people just really don’t like hospitals. And, I guess”, she said, “not everybody has someone that close to them. So, I like to become their visitor for them. I hope you don’t mind.”
I didn’t mind. Although it did make me embarrassed to realize that I fit in the latter category; I didn’t have anybody that close to me.
She just smiled at me and petted my hand as the medications worked their magic on me and I started to drift back off to sleep. I heard a nurse come into the room and say, “There you are, Honey. You need to get back to your room now and leave this nice man be.”
The next time I regained consciousness, I noticed a hand drawn picture of a house with a Christmas tree out front with a note that said, “I hope you get home before Christmas” and was signed by Elizabeth.
Each new day, I was welcomed by another drawing of Christmas scenes; smiling faces; reindeer; and, starry skies. All containing a happy note and all signed, ”Love, Elizabeth”.
After ten days of recovery and following the insertion of two stents into my heart, I was well enough to return to my empty home. On my way out of the hospital, I stopped by the Oncology Wing to say good-bye and thank you to Elizabeth. When I asked the nurse at the floor station where I could find Elizabeth, she replied, “Oh I'm sorry, Elizabeth is no longer with us.”
I then said, “Well can you tell me her home address or phone number, I would really like to thank her for visiting me in my hospital room this past week.”
The look on the nurse’s face indicated that I misunderstood what she had meant. Elizabeth was no longer with us.
Sadly, I started walking towards the exit.
Just before I got to the elevator, I noticed an open door with a man lying on his bed, with tubes in his nose and throat and nobody else in the room with him. I went into his room and sat in the empty chair.
When he opened his eyes two hours later, I said, “Hi, I'm Joe. I noticed there was nobody here when you were brought back from your operation and I know how nice it is to see a smiling face when you wake up, so I thought I would sit here with you for a while. I hope you don’t mind.”
He squeezed my hand; gave a slight smile; and, slowly drifted off back to sleep.
Oh, make up your mind my schizophrenic love
Unpredictable are your ways
I can’t stand your waxing and waning
Are you trying to drive me away?
Drifting from a gentle snow shower to a hurricane
Why can’t you be predictable like the golden days of summer?
Or serene like a fine autumn morn’s mist?
No more cold shoulders…
I want a dusting of snow on Christmas eve
And a plush velvet blanket for Christmas morn
No more highs and lows where anything goes
Just be bold and romantic
You’re so easily distracted-you’re hyperactive
I don’t want a wishy washy winter wonderland
Don’t make me go talk to Mother Nature
Even the weather man is scratching his head!
By Gwendolen Rix
Written for Nette's Contest~Personifying January~
& Deb's Contest~Something Different~
nota bene-Ohio winters are notorious for labile weather.
Hearing the jingling bells of Santa's sleigh,
Hanging silver tinsel on the tree for trim,
My cousin and I going sledding all day,
Reading the story of Scrooge and Tiny Tim.
Building a house made of spicy gingerbread,
And hearing a Bing Crosby Christmas tune,
Leaving out cookies before going to bed,
Seeing eight tiny reindeer flying by the moon.
Santa Claus bringing toys down our chimney,
Almost every house twinkling with lights,
Cutting down a fresh, pine Christmas tree,
Hanging antique ornaments, so shiny and bright.
Grandma and I baking my favorite cookies,
Shopping for Christmas gifts in every store,
A fireplace with a stocking hung just for me,
And singing Christmas carols at every door.
My hometown covered in glistening, white snow,
And the sweet, minty taste of a candy cane,
Presents containing treasures we wouldn't know,
And drawing snowflakes on a frosty window pane.
My Mom making a snowman, as perfect as can be,
Decking the halls with garlands, wreaths and more,
Whispering wishes to Santa, sitting on his knee,
And the excitement we all had the night before.
December 12th, 2013
Snow flake's here, snow flakes there and soon there's snowflake's everywhere.
Some city may have sunshine, other places may even see rain. Whatever is the reason,
don't allow these astronomical happening's make you forget that, "(Jesus) He's the
reason for the season, that Christmas is the day of sharing love and a day that our kid's
should appreciate a day that our world was in need of a change.
Somewhere must I say, some lil boy with no toys will not enjoy this christmas day. But
really, its not always the presents that's stock underneath the tree, on this day as the
snow is still falling from the skie's, let us remember sharing is just as important. For un-
to us in Bethlehem, a King is born and love is the morale of the x-mas story. Love is
the reason just watch your kid's have fun as they run around and play, to the one's less
fortunate to not have what other's have or don't have, together let's us pray for happi-
ness throughout our familie's and our leadership all over this great land in which we
live. The greatest gift is due in all for joy of the reason. "He's the reason for the season,
and his ressurection is a gift of his Glory".