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Life Winter Poems | Life Poems About Winter

These Life Winter poems are examples of Life poems about Winter. These are the best examples of Life Winter poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain | |

Frosted Panes - re-post

                                   
When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again
In that old house, where you wove that coloured tapestry
With all the glorious memories of your life upon the sea

With weathered palm so deeply etched with every season past
You rubbed a porthole in the center of the frosted glass
Where outside in splendour lie a winter-wonderland
As halos rose above your head from a pipe bowl in your hand

And there upon a rocking chair as smoke rings filled the air
We rocked across a sea of dreams wind tangled in our hair
To lands I’d never been before we stepped upon those shores
And through your eyes I saw each one and still I wanted more

The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green       
As the world outside held its breath in a sea of snowy cream
And when the chill of winter melted from the windowpane
The whistling kettle on the stove brought us home again

You held my hand and looked at me with that twinkle in your eyes
And told me you would be my Captain 'til the day I died
So when winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again 

             ~~~~~


Written:  Jan 15, 2011

Author:  Elaine George
First Place in Brian Strand's contest:  Let's See
4th   Place In - Anything goes contest

In loving memory of my Dear Papa 'Captain James George'.


Authors Note:
When I was a child of three, I Went to live for a year with my Grandparents in Nova 
Scotia. At that time my Grandfather was a retired Sea Captain of a Three Mast 
Schooner. He had spent most of his life at sea, taking lumber and coal to New 
Brunswick and various ports in the U.S. and in the winter months, would carry on  to 
pick-up and deliver  cargo in the  West Indies. Although my time with him was short, 
the memories we shared have comforted me through-out the years.  
~~~~~


   
 


 


Details | I do not know? | |

Crisp Winter

From blade of grass to the tip of twig,
The white dust of winter fall’s.
Frenzied  flakes move in lost abandonment,
Finally pitch on fence and wall’s.
On the throat the rasping of cold crisp air,
The sound of snow crunching underfoot.
As the day grows short , and night draws in,
Now  the  journey homeward   took.
Familiar shapes come into view,
There outlines soften by the snow.
What  once were roofs ,now don white overcoats,
With ice jewellery now on show.
The old mill wheel lies motionless,
So still the little stream.
Held fast by Jack Frost clutches,
In  a Christmas greeting scene.
Chinks of light through windows,
Gives some comfort and delight.
Cast a  beam with an incandescent glow,
On  white grains as they glisten bright.
At the door the latch clicks open,
And with thud is now latched again.
Keeping winter firmly on the out side,
withIn, thoughts of summer to retain


Details | Light Poetry | |

MEMORIES ON BRANCHES

            

              Scrumptious sight of prairies and grass
       Ardent beaming of flower buds and buzzing bees
         Leafless coils, branches of trees become alive
          Hastening! Arousing everyone's joy and vive
             Everyone happy on cheerful springtime!

             A cotillion trips and chirps of jolly birds
         From some distance, I have started to heard
         Fantastic shun and kisses of pretty butterflies
       Tempting all species of flora and fauna to thrive
        Welcoming, beckoning the heat of summertime!

         First crisp of breeze, creating dew in morning
Canopy of red and orange leaves from branches, enchanting!
      Turning the world into a canvass of nature's brush
  Unnoticeable, such romantic dash making anyone blush
  Revel, embrace the sweet amorous season of autumn!

                 Solid chilling raindrops of snowflakes
                Giving warning: careful during breaks
            Covering branches, bringing icy cold aches
                Yet, skiing an exhilarating cool escape
             Delight in the coolness ambiance of winter!

                                         BY
                                    olive_eloi
                                     2:22 pm
                                   02/26/2014

CONTEST: MEMORIES ON BRANCHES
SPONSOR: GAIL ANGEL DOYLE
4TH PLACE


Details | Narrative | |

A Long Cold-Chill

I watched the penguins woddle along,
On cold-hard ice; where they belong.

From water to land, they scurried around,
Flapping their feet on frozen ground.

Herds of them were standing still,
Settling down to a long cold chill.

Mother passes her egg to father carefully;
Knowing he'll care for it, so, naturally.

He'll protect it from the harsh-cold nights,
In a warm snug pouch away from sight.

For mother must find many fish to catch,
While father stays until it is hatched.

Long-dark days of Winter will change to Fall,
Returning mother, with, her familiar call.

Such a sweet sound for father's ear,
Ending another, long-cold Winter year.

Giving father penguin a much needed break,
For their chick is born and fully awake.

With such a huge urge to quickly eat,
Yes, many tasty meals of fresh, fish-meat.


Details | Quatrain | |

First Snowfall

Snow falls softly late one night In the darkness it does bask I dread the job tomorrow Shoveling will be my task Beauty is in the eyes of the viewer I see nothing but giant flakes of work The trees all have snow on this first shower Dreading the day of a job using torque The pathways are snowed over All with a reflective white I want to get to bed soon For I know tomorrow’s plight I’m mesmerized by the beautiful scene Not a thing is without some wondrous snow Even though I sure do dread the next day I will put on a great, wonderful show This time of year affects me Seems to rub off some great cheer I will find a way to smile Though there’s snow up to my rear
Russell Sivey Form Quatrain-1st, 3rd, 5th stanzas have 7 syllables, 2nd, 4th stanzas have 10 syllables


Details | Rhyme | |

The Garden

My autumn wine; white winter rose
Please tell me how your garden grows?
I’ve lost my touch, I feared as much
You are fragile and it shows

Can I still call upon you?
With no words ever spoken to you?
And would you come to me?
Could you hear me in a dream?

Would you “sense” me if I came close,
But not in sight of you eyes?
Would you tempt me if giving up hope
Could cleanse me of all the lies?

I survive through a disguise
Designed to hide my immortal light
You will never see it
For I am a chameleon
Crawling through the ancient garden
The (other) not known as Eden
For it has no name to keep it safe
Until light shines on this darkened place

“April showers bring May flowers”
And so your flower has not yet soured
You still have the power to reverse your desires
My white winter rose, will you grow any higher?

Prosper or wither
The choice is now yours
Bound or severed
I’ve done all I could


Details | Rhyme | |

Trumpet Call

My heart is the same full of love
     My house that shelters it full of pain
But it's autumn in my life, Dove
      The hair of gray and wrinkles reign

I set the table full of food
        For the family to dine fun times
But it is autumn in my life
       When changes prepare for winter

I'm not sure I'll know winter now
        For I have not experienced it
But it's autumn in my life somehow
        Where beauty glows bright from the depths

Producing leaves of many hues
       Love the autumn of my life, Dove
Now all that's left winter's white snow
        I think that when winter comes cold

Plants freeze if left out in weather
      They will need a warmer place inside
But since it is just autumn now
       There's time to prepare room somehow

I still watch the birds from window
       They have not all gone away love
But it's autumn in my life now
        Soon most will be gone for winter

Winter soon will approach with cold
       Seemingly death of the roses
But it's autumn in my life my bold
       There are few thoughts of approaching winter

But when winter comes my way
        The body rest to rise another spring
Now it's autumn in my life this day
         On another day I'll be called by trumpet away


Details | Narrative | |

Iowas Child

Gone are the fields of winter white
soon to be replaced by hues of greens and yellows,
in the interim, fields of barren brown and dirty gold
turned, to breathe warm air from departed winter chill

Plumes of black and gray from mans machine
kneading the back of Mother Earths desire,
before impregnating her with the many seeds 
that will produce offspring to quench mans many needs

oh, how lonesome she looks, so alone
holding yet to some remnants of children past,
left only to cradle her dead, left by man
yearning to suckle new life, as only a Mother can

Above, from the heavens, Father prepares
to germinate those so many seeds,
with life sustaining necessities only he is allowed
sunlight and life giving rain, loosened from the clouds

within days Mother is impregnated
she can feel the multitudes of organic life,
moving within her womb, yearning,growing, needing
the escape, to be warmed and nourished by the Sun

Minutes turn to hours, hours to days
suddenly weeks pass,and yet another life,
giving rain, descends from guilded clouds
arms and fingers, of her children, open, sustained

nearing the end of a warm and wonderful summer
it is time for Fathers other children,
to reap what he has sewn
time for Mother Earth to let her children go

My, how they have grown, tall,lush and full
of the fruit they were meant to bear,
to provide nourishment for the masses of seeds
grown to maturity, in need from the father

Again, the gray black plumes of mans machine
come to life, they move through her fields,
her children, like a predator among prey
until, she is left again, with remnants of children past

Soon she will be blanketed again in winter white
gone will be the warm breath of life,
her children taken from her, she is again barren
only to be betrothed to a promise of new life.


I wrote this on a day trip to Illinois from Iowa across wide open farm land.

                      God Bless....Taz


Details | Free verse | |

Snow

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."


Details | Verse | |

Chilled Dawn

She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog, 
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand, 
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house, 
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago. 
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,  
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim. 

       nor'easter winds                                                roll top shoe box...
      splinter the silence..               --                     debutante' caught in amber
        a cataract view                                                   frozen sepia  

Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily,  she polishes the cold glass, 
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime, 
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.  
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes, 
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement. 
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water, 
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow. 




__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"


Details | Verse | |

Winter Hands

A man’s chilled hands In the depths of darkness... Candle is shining
She approaches him, warming him up inside by holding him close to her. She tells him, “My love for you is stronger than the winter; no frigid air will hold you down and make you weak.” He smiled at her and simply replied, “I know our love is stronger than the freezing days of winter, we can exist in a higher plane and still be warm throughout. We just need to be in close proximity to physically be warm together.” With this she held his hands and he warmed up to be at her level of fire burning inside her.
She warmed his hands Sure melted all the ice off... Candle illumines
Russell Sivey Entrant into Debbie Guzzi's "Mix It Up" contest 1/13/2013


Details | Verse | |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB


Details | Rhyme | |

And Then It Was Winter

And Then It Was Winter

Time has a way of moving
So quickly that you’re caught unaware
The future seems far in the future
Then all at once it’s right there
It seems like only yesterday
I was among the young
Just married with a young child
Our lives had just begun
Yet now it seems eons ago
The years just came and went
I glimpse of how it used to be
How my hopes and dreams were spent
But here it is – it’s winter
The winter of my life
Somehow it got here way too fast
My memories are rife
I remember seeing old folks
Thinking that was years away
I didn’t have to think of it
That is until today
So here it is – my winter
And I can see the change
I’m older and I’m slower
And the young now seem so strange
I find taking a shower
Is a target for the day
A nap is not a treat I take
It’s my mandatory way
I advance into this season
Unprepared for aches and pains
The loss of strength and memory
A walker and some canes
Regrets? Sure there are things I’ve done
And things I didn’t do
But I’ve lived a happy lifetime
Regrets?  There are so few
If you’re not yet in your winter
Please do take some advice
It’ll be here quicker than you think
Time does not suffice
Whatever you’d like to accomplish
In your life time – do it now
Don’t put it off till later
For laters pass somehow
And you haven’t got a promice
That you’ll live to see all seasons
Life sometimes is fleeting
Comes and goes without the reasons
Live for today – say all the things
You want loved ones now to hear
Tell them to live their life in full
For their winter may be near

My spring was fun and full of life
My summer days were thinner
My fall was fat and happy
And then it was my winter

March 2013


Details | Verse | |

Enjoy it with Pleasure



                                 We are all waithing for Spring
                               Spring is fresh after a long winter
                                  Winter are so long and cold
                         We hunger after the sun and heating days
                           Come Spring, my dear, we need you now
                                  Winter dormancy is over now
                              Dress the world in Spring flowers
                           Sorrows and worries are easier to bear
                            when the the day is sunny and good
                                It is as if our life begins anew
                             Buds arising out in all their delight
                         Come May you lovely mild, with heating
                                     breeze and sunny days
                        It feels so good to take off the winter coat
                                 Enjoy Spring with pleasure.








                  * 17. May is Norway`s national day. - Hurray for 17.May!



17. May 2012
A-L Andresen


Details | Sonnet | |

SEASONS OF LIFE

                      seasons is the relationship.
                                 changes a lot.
                      SUMMER tells us the value of FRIENDS.
                                  WINTER tells us the caring of FRIENDS.
                      SPRING is about the quarrel with the FRIENDS.
                                  AUTUMN tells about the LONELINESS.
                      THUNDER occurs when you fight with me.
                                  LIGHTING occurs when.,
                      i miss my LOVED ONE.
                                  RAIN occurs when.,
                      i spend time with my LOVELY ONE.
                                 BREEZE occurs when you give a SMILE after a CRY.
                      that's the life,
                                 which i spend with my DEAR ONE.


Details | I do not know? | |

A Material Christmas

It's Christmas! Christmas!
That time of year
When people are filled...
With holiday cheer?

Yeah right. . .
I really do wish it were true
But people are people
Through and through

It's not about happiness anymore
Or in respect to what matters.
In reality it concerns what you get
And the food that is piled on the platters.

What has happened to the world of today?
Where is the 'loving and giving...'?
Now it is all just me, me, me.
Is this a nightmare? Or are we actually living.  

Yep we might have a lot of things
Hang on! Let's add some more
It isn't the family that I'm expecting
But the postman knocking at the door.

When the topic turns to Christmas cheer
Lets go stuff our faces...
Break out all that lovely beer!
Chuck away those graces!

But... Suddenly the month is over
There go all the gifts you gave
Your debt payments crawl closer and closer
And you become a material slave.






Details | Blank verse | |

A Glass of wine

A glass of wine 

This is ridiculous it has no name engulfed by sadness, two bottles of wine and cigarettes 
and I’m drowning. Tomorrow no more, but I know when the sun falls so will I, succumbed
 to a need to fly away to otherness. The pain in my chest is eating away, the emptiness of 
my life feels like intolerable burden. I have created a world that is so small it chokes me. 
The road to recovery, to palm trees and gentle sea is long. We used to laugh, my lover and 
I, life was so funny; now all I can see is waste land with no oasis, there is nothing to lift 
the spirit and the age old question asked by many before me:” what is it all for other to 
bringing ones gene further into the future, I have not been able to do even that simple 
task. The night is so long endlessly I flick from channel to channel to find something that 
can bring the laughter back, but tiredness overwhelms me, l want another glass of wine, 
the last glass that brings sleep. It doesn’t work anymore the more I drink the more sober 
I get, Intolerable is the angst. Around and around I jumped on a carrousel and its engineer 
has gone, whirling colours cacophony of screams, the undead will not be silent. Look into 
the kaleidoscope of life and see a myriad of stars, bright and shiny but they are all a fading 
illusions. But a voice whispers in my ear tomorrow you will get a new day, a sheet of blank 
paper and crayon, so you can make clowns faces and laugh again. 


Details | Rhyme | |

two squirrels'

Two squirrels gathering nuts and foraging in the woods.
Scurrying about sniffing and prodding things weren't looking to good.
A storm was a coming so frantically they searched.
All the while an owl looked on watching on his branch perch.

He being the wisest of all the creatures spoke and said to the squirrels.
"Quit going so fast the things you need are over by the farmers barrels."
The little ones listened and went to the barnyard.
Seeing this opened barrell they saw kernels of corn scattered around in discard.

Excited they accomplished there task of gathering, rushing to an fro they had a stockpile.
Almost an hour later they were set for the winter it would last a long time.
Thanking the owl bellies full strored food for the winter they were ready to hibernate.
All was well the food for the family secured the chilling winter they would escape.

Stockpile a idea we should learn from the insects, critters, they store to survive.
They see a brighter future for their species they are truly alive.
How about you? Carnal man do you think ahead? Do you save?
Do you store blessings from your Creator following His laws and strive to behave?

Our faith, hope, and dreams allow "us" to have a choice and scurry to find God's edicts?
Stockpiling "Blessings" in the book of life you can give your life a spiritual gift.
Even the squirrels know when it is time to stockpile even though they run only on instinct.
Carnal man can reason animals can't, who is smarter the animals or man, it is very distinct.  


Details | Verse | |

The Spring Arrives

 

                                      After a long and cold winter
                                           you are so welcome
                               Creeping slowly out of the winter rest
                                           let the buds pup out
                                Small traces of winter cold melting away
                         The days are longer, brighter and the sun warms
                                The energy spreads in mother`s nature
                            and spilling over into our winter cold bodies
                              I welcome you to the life bringing spring








 28.02.12 
A-L Andresen


Details | Sonnet | |

Snail's Simple Pace

The caramel leaves seem to fall from sky
In waves, as zephyr sings through chimes and eaves
Its song that whispers a fall lullaby
As a gentle rustling wind through autumn leaves

September a time to slow down, be still
Slowly now we have less light_ more dark
A drawing to home and hearth seems our will
Beckoning to fill with bounty our hearts

Caramel sauce for those crisp apples near
The heat of summer is in distant past
None of that snow of winter yet to fear
Watering chores of summer now are past

All things for coming winter out in place
Now one can slow to a snail's simple pace


In honor of Brian Strand's contest...

*Note
Click on"About That Poem"


Details | Sestina | |

Joy Of Different Seasons (Worst)

Sunlight at an angle dancing through colored leaves
Cool nights to snuggle beneath the sheets; warm days of ease
Last of gardens harvest; goodbye to summer's bees
Joyful time fo harvest soon days a breeze
Pumpkins, winter squash, turnips, and peas
Food in bounty stored away for many days

Christmas will be upon us in just a very few days
The yard will have to be raked again and again to rid of leaves
Those garden vegetables will stored and put aside a cooking of peas
For right after Christmas comes New Years Day's fare with ease
The howling winds will blow and it won't be just a breeze
But now all the bugs have disappeared_ gone are the bees


On New Year"s Day we will have those delicious peas
We will float into spring with all ease
On the day we will not have to worry with yellow jackets or bees
As the nights grow longer and shorter the winter days
Those indominable buds show forth on the trees and soon leaves
March will come in bringing its strong breeze

Joy, oh!. joy and joy again with spring's green leaves
Just lying around in the hammock with all this ease
Newly hatched from hiding places comes those bees
Soft and gentle comes a blowing spring's warm breeze
In the newly planted garden_those early June peas
These wonderful times _joy of longer days

These times in life are just fun and a wonderful breeze
Then summer comes with the picking, shelling, and freezing peas
But there is one less chore now for there is no raking leaves
Out in the garden and in Pampas Grass thick with those bees
These times are wonderful long sunny days
Afternoons in the lazy hammock oh! what ease


How thankful that we have those great peas
Even if the pollen draws those hungry stinging bees
Summer still has lazy days with ease
Soon those longer sunlight hours sunny sunny days
Begins to slowly fade then the change in those leaves
From the west and north come a much drier breeze

Old man winter slips in with ease, now we'll eat those dry peas
Blow wind with swift breeze, time to kill all lingering bees
By th warm fire spend our days, soon snow covers all those leaves


Details | Bio | |

I Am Poetry

I stand solo, aloof in the snow, a precipitation 
                     of words cascading from a nebulous eye 
Fathoms wide, forever dripping like wax onto 
                     a punctured paper serving a Sanskrit sky,

and spreading into sibilant sentences swiftly 
                     sliding from syllable sorcery to soulful serenades 
so silent in the shunting shout of white. Poetry 
                     fills a churning void where novels cannot wade,

Phrases solidifying into idolisation of emotion 
                     itself, isolation of the isometric individuality that so 
Crushes my keeling cavern of thought, ever 
                     careering from caustic career path to another new low,

Which so seems to crumble into crazy paving’s 
                    counterpart. In this first freeze-frame we can all grasp
A fraction of the familiar, oh so fractured by the 
                    fumbling nature of enforced form. Freed by the gasp 

Of a photo-opportunity glowing phosphorescent 
                    with firsts, I am no longer framed by the festering 
Constraints of non-fiction, and folding my fond 
                    farewells carefully, I hesitantly face a vision pestering 

Me, fearing the fiend that would open maw and 
                    gnaw beneath my feet, evoking an avalanche of the 
Vernacular, but I am further past this unfed 
                    existence now, loosened from the fickle friendship of a

Winter thaw. Focus not your gaze on the grinding 
                    gauze of the greats, for the pressing pestilence of 
Perishable poetry is elsewhere pondering its parallels 
                    in posturing and post-modern pining for forlorn love. 


Praise no other; I am poetry.


Details | Sonnet | |

Snow Wonderland Zeal

In winter, rails of the fence are heavy Snow covers them, just as white as can be Beauty lands in the landscape, on the trees It’s white too, lovely, pretty as you please Snow reflects all colors making it white Leaving light that is courageously bright Each snowflake is different, quite unique Leaving the air brilliant, full of mystique A stream, still moving along, has some ice Very cold and frigid, had to look twice Air has quite a bite to it, a crisp feel The land is all frozen, the cold is real Whole scene brings about natural appeal Snow is like a solid wonderland zeal
Russell Sivey


Details | Sestina | |

Ode To Joy Of Changing Seasons

Sunlight at an angle dancing through colored leaves
Cool nights to snuggle beneath the sheets; warm days of ease
Last of gardens harvest; goodbye to summer's bees
Joyful time to harvest soon days a breeze
Pumpkins, winter squash, turnips, and peas
Food in bounty stored away for many days

Christmas will be upon us in just a very few days
The yard will be raked again and again to rid of leaves
Garden vegetables will be stored also cooking of peas
For right after Christmas comes New Years Day with ease
The howling winds will blow and it won't be just a breeze
But now all the bugs have disappeared_gone are the bees

We will not have to worry with yellow jackets or bees
As the night grow longer and shorter the winter days
March soon will come in bringing its strong breeze
Those indominable buds show forth on the trees soon leaves
We will float into warm days and beauty of  spring with ease
Now we will have eaten most of those delicious peas

Soon in the newly planted garden_those early June Peas
Newly hatched from their hiding places comes those bees
Just lying around in the hammock with all this ease
These wonderful times_joy of longer days
Joy, oh! joy and joy again with spring's green leaves
Soft and gentle comes a blowing spring's warm breeze

But there is one less chore now for there is no raking leaves
Afternoon in the lazy hammock oh what ease
Glad that in the garden and Pampas Grass stay those bees
These times in life are just fun and a zephyr breeze
Summer comes with the picking, shelling, and freezing peas
These times are wonderful long sunny days

But soon slowly fade, then the change in those leaves
Summer still has a lazy few days with comfy ease
Even if the pollen draws those hungry stinging bees
From the west and north come a much drier breeze
How thankful that we have those great peas
Soon fade those longer sunlit sunny days

No raking leaves in winter, only by firelight with ease and read
All those pesky bees gone now, on the currents winter's breeze brings flurries
Now dine on peas put away to eat on cold fruitless days of old man winter


Details | Light Poetry | |

Ice Cold Out

Touching  any metal un-gloved,
Turns skin to tin, fingers on fire,
Breathing inside what’s above,
Kindles lungs to a stinging pyre.
Exhaled steam is white as a dove.
Some find refuge wearing eider attire,
But hours exposure ends the tropical cove.
After a while the icy novelty tires,
As keeping calm means the need to move.
Snowmen dread mercury higher,
For melting’s their fateful groove.
Winter’s funeral march has its criers,
But in shivering’s end there is no lost love.


Details | Free verse | |

If I Shall Grow Old 2K13

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.


Details | Acrostic | |

A Winter Sport--double acrostic--

Amidst the cold climate we enjoyed sled riding.
We also had so much fun building an igloo.
I felt alive in those days, hardly any woes.
Now you may say that this is no sport at all.
Take heed that even the Olympics have these.
Every winter so many do this thing that I bid,
Racing, swaying, these and more we did savor.
Sled riding is easier, though many enjoy to ski.
Pleasant fresh aromas of winter always spread.
Outward and inward like a bitter cold safari.
Riding upon a sled by setting or lying down,
Takes control of our lives in childlike blessing.


My first double acrostic,,,inspired by a contest,,,first letter of each sentence spells out title and the last letter in each sentence spells out the subject..


Details | I do not know? | |

Season In Reflection

Chase not what was autumn time,
Its vibrant colors that had once adorned.
Now fades away as the winter mourns.
But to savour thoughts like a fine old wine.

Across valley deep over moors and hill,
The Norse wind on his steed doth roar.
Through nook and cranny and frame of door,
With breath of ice like steel.

Ice maid for you enchant us so,
As you lay your cloak of winter down.
Across sleepy hamlets and the bustling towns,
Vestige remnants of the year now go.

© N Windle 2009


Details | Imagism | |

The Red Symphony

A self-written poem begun in Christmas Time,
While it tasting the soup and looking for rhyme.
In the kitchen, neighbor with the quiet tomato paste,
The sorcerer's apprentice, a poet pretty well placed
Near Soups (ciorbe) with characteristic sour taste
With luminous face and much grace added the rest:
As he was sipping and tasting from raw and cooked.
His group had a passionate look at what was booked
For the dinner: These might be meat and vegetable soups.

They had to choose till the coming of the helping troops
For the pig`s sacrifice rite, old mixture of joy and grief
Under the hot and long debrief of the pleasant smell-thief 
Tripe soup (ciorba de burta) hard prepared from beef,
And calf foot soup (ciorba de vitel), with green-gold leaf 
Pickled soup (supa de moare) with pork and big rice;
But use the dice to decide between spice and allspice.

From the slaughtered pig the village` families prepare: 
Carnati - sausages  kept in special aromatic smoke 
Of wet fir and oak burned at small fire as enjoyed by folk;
Caltabos - sausages made with liver sprinkled with beers;
Toba and piftie - dishes using pig's feet, head and ears 
Suspended in aspic like a frozen symphony in red
After cups of plum brandy and before going the bed
Tochitura - pan-fried pork to bid it a farewell, twice
Served with mamaliga - palesta , and red wine with ice,
Or boiled wine with pepper and cinnamon against frost; 
So that the pork can swim and the verse were glossed;
Piftie - inferior parts of the bashful pig, mainly the tail, 
Feet and ears, kind of meal like taken from a fairytale
In which all are cooked and served in a form of gelatin
In this naturalist field, all the poets smile like Mr.Bean;
                                                                              
Jumari - small pieces of pig meat are fried and tumbled 
Through various spices if after all, you are a little troubled 
 And may falter some poetical from the famous songs
Like "So, good people drink…" couples of diphthongs
Since Saturday to Thursday and make colorful the gray.

This poem was written in the Night of Tuesday to Friday.
 
( And later we`d find that the housewife had covered with it  the pickles cucumbers jar.)


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Here Comes Winter Again

Here it comes again; softly knocking on windows at 2A.M, here comes the winter at a cold silent night, awakening my soul with the smell of dust after rain, the smell of mom holding me into bed, with the voices of my sisters playing next room, here it comes again with painful delights, here it comes again taking me back home.

Let the drops of rain knock on my door and let them ache my heart, let me taste the sweet smell in my tongue like a little boy getting wet beneath the rain, waiting to be rebuked, but none of this does matter because the burdens of life are slipping down with the rains being drifted on his coat, none of this does matter because the weight of life was just not this cold before.

Here comes the winter with empty corners in my head and echoes of laughters in my room, a piece of chocolate I can no longer find and a broken toy I’ve never thrown away, with good sweaters that never felt warm on a cold night like this, let the chilly breezes of winter take me back home again, to smell my father’s smoking cigarettes and my mother combing my hair, and the smell of coffee beans on one cloudy morning to refresh my day, oh here comes the winter, remembering me again and stopping by with few memories to take me home.

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