The single white rose captured the old gardener's attention,
He lovingly cared for it, like it was his own grand-daughter,
The roses were just like family and friends in his eyes,
He gave them bright sunshine, and plenty of fresh water.
He had always planted roses in reds, yellows, and pinks,
Yet, it was the one white rose that he favored most,
The old gardener admired it's innocence and elegance,
A quality that the other roses just could not boast.
This precious rose was pure white, like new fallen snow,
Which only a cold, late November day could bring,
It's delicate petals were soft to the finger's touch,
Similar to that of a feather, in an angel's wing.
The old gardener was perplexed and astonished,
Only this rose bloomed through spring, summer, and fall,
Each of the other roses had withered months ago,
The frost and cold weather did not affect it at all.
With a smile, the old gardener took one last look,
Unknowingly, death would soon come without warning,
After he had settled down for a nap in his chair,
He drew his last breath, later on that morning.
His funeral was held on the very next day,
Loving words were spoken, as he was laid to rest,
His grand-daughter approached, with tears in her eyes,
As she placed the single white rose upon his chest.
The cemetery was a quiet and peaceful place,
Where family and friends gathered to remember,
A gentle snow began to fall upon the casket lid,
Brightening the gloom on this final day of November.
The old gardener's soul departed from this earth,
Lead away by a choir of angels, on delicate wings,
Then on through the pearly gates of heaven's garden,
Where the white rose still blooms, in eternal springs.
November 25th, 2013
Written by: Kelly Deschler
It is Christmas Eve, all preparations for the day are done,
My hand grabs the doorknob as I step out to take a stroll,
On this peaceful night the village is silent, and I see no one,
Walking under the warm glow of a decorated streetlight pole.
I stand and gaze at the windows of the house next door,
Where a tree glows with bubble lights and tinsel strands,
Three stockings holding wishes, await over the fire's roar,
A scene straight from a dream, so wonderful and grand.
Glancing upwards, as the clouds glide across the moon,
Silver stars are out mingling with the drifting snowflakes,
A sight to enjoy here and now, for morning will be here soon,
A beautiful Christmas memory, deep in my heart to take.
Only one car comes up the street, as I walk along our lane,
Just a friendly snowman is there to greet me with a hello,
I stop, adjust his top hat, and reposition his pipe and cane,
This cold-hearted man has made a child smile, I know.
My ears lead me to the street corner where carolers sing,
As those old familiar notes drift towards me on the air,
More sounds seem to awaken as the bells distantly ring,
I felt nothing but a warming glow as I was standing there.
Far from the town and its bustling throng
knowing just where to go,
Sister and I are walking along
a pathway in the snow.
Down by the lake and over a fence
are hungry ducks and geese.
To their clamor we give audience,
watching their flock increase.
Off comes my muff, for I have brought
what they love to be fed.
I hold out my hand then as I squat
to toss them crumbs of bread.
Those ducklings and geese can’t get enough,
but new snow fills the sky.
My frozen hand goes back in my muff,
for no more crumbs have I!
For the Let it Snow Contest
Based on the first picture: George Dunlop Leslie's Winter Walk
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
Form Quatrain-1st, 3rd, 5th stanzas have 7 syllables, 2nd, 4th stanzas have 10 syllables
People say, “I hate winter,
I’m ready for spring.”
I’ve never heard a child say that,
they find joy in everything.
Some say, “Drat this blasted snow!
we need to have some sun.”
I’ve never heard a child say that,
they’re too busy having fun;
catching the flakes on their tongues,
creating snow angels on the ground,
sledding down the nearest hill,
building snowmen, fat and round.
Some see only the hindrance,
as the snow gets plowed back.
They say, “Isn’t this a mess?”
I’ve never heard a child say that.
(this is a type of quatrain called Swap Quatrain,
wherein the fourth line of each stanza
is actually the first line, just swapped around)
Another Time, long long ago,
there was no Rain; there was no Snow.
No reason was there, and no rhyme
long long ago, another Time.
A desert only, lifeless land -
boulders, pebbles, grains of sand;
hot and windswept, barren, lonely
lifeless land; a desert only.
From Sky was tossed one day, a seed
onto this land so much in need,
whose dreariness would soon be lost.
One day a seed from Sky was tossed.
In Sun’s bright heat, the small seed grew
until an egg it changed into.
It needed only moisture sweet.
The small seed grew in Sun’s bright heat.
Sky clapped loud sound; a bird appeared.
The egg was pulsing as she neared.
White feathers fluttered to the ground.
A bird appeared; Sky clapped loud sound.
As Rain came down. . . A sudden change!
The bird turned into something strange -
A lovely girl with feathered gown!
A sudden change as Rain came down.
With Rain’s soft fall, the egg had burst.
Emerging from the egg came first
One horse, then two. Fantastical!
The egg had burst with Rain’s soft fall.
The horses grew beneath big Sun.
They thrived; with Rain they were as one.
Along with her, like Wind, they’d run.
Beneath big Sun, the horses grew.
Twin beasts and Rain, that dry land’s three
became a new world’s trinity.
And with them, green and springtime came.
That dry land’s three: twin beasts and Rain.
With so much spring, with Rain’s pure grace
came poetry into that place.
Bright flowers bloomed when she would sing
with Rain’s pure grace, with so much spring.
Variety, the needful thing,
Rain prayed out loud for Sky to bring.
And so was born for her to see:
the needful thing, Variety!
Then came down Snow from up above.
This counterpart was Rain’s true love.
When white Snow ebbed, sweet Rain would flow.
From up above, then came down Snow.
Sweet Rain, white Snow, atop each horse,
still ride the land and set the course
of when their seasons come and go.
Atop each horse, sweet Rain, white Snow.
By Andrea Dietrich
Inspired by A Rambling Poet's Contest:
"Rain: the Story"
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
My white Christmas dreams had come true,
As the dim twilight began to close in,
Then my winter wonderland faded to blue,
I was lonesome with no happiness within.
On a Christmas night, so lonely and blue,
Surrounded by four decked, empty walls,
Sitting by the tree, just thinking about you,
As white snowflakes continued to fall.
As the pine tree twinkled with brilliant light,
My smile was lost, nowhere to be found,
Though the ornaments were shining bright,
I missed your warmth, not presently around.
Pretty, paper packages of red and green,
Are there, anticipating you at my door,
The crackling fireside, cheerful and serene,
Just as it was, the Christmas before.
I long for your kiss under the mistletoe,
So, how sad and lonely would I be,
Looking out at that faded blue snow,
If you're not here with me?
Written by : Kelly Deschler
For Giorgio V.'s contest - "A Song Inspires A Poem"
My poem was inspired by the song, "Blue Christmas" by Elvis Presley
by Sue K Green
Pretty are the snowflakes
As I watch them fall
Covering up the landscape
Pretty scene for all
I like to watch the snowflakes
They put on quite a show
As they flit and scatter
Everywhere they go
So many are the snowflakes
Falling down on me
I wouldn’t now start counting
A daunting task that be
Cold are the snowflakes
As too is the air
Hat, coat, and gloves now
A must for me to wear
White now are the snowflakes
Covering the ground
Careful not to slip now
Ice too is all around.
Streetlights on the snowflakes
Make for a pleasing glow
I watch now out my window
At still falling snow.
a warm white coat,
and wraps a scarf
around her throat.
She knits the trees
lacy white caps,
and carpets with snow,
growing things that nap.
Then in the morning,
when hungry creatures wake,
she fills their bowls
with frosted flakes.
Snowflakes floating from the sky
twirling, then settling down,
they're in a race with each other
to see which one first, hits the ground.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
It's starting to snow and this is a little something, I just came up with.
Bought advance tickets for The Nutcracker
About two and a half months ago
How was I to know on November 29th
We'd get dumped on with a big bunch of snow
The weather gods have conspired against me
Coz before and after that day
Temperatures been so incredibly warm
Much like the merry month of May
Must have upset those guys back when
If so I do hereby apologize
Sure felt their wrath, spent three long hours
With fire shooting out of my eyes
Next time won't buy tickets ahead of time
I'll buy them on the day of the event
And take my chances that it's not a sellout
So my time is much better spent
Is my frustration showing as I write this poem?
So ticked off, what more can I say
Don't want ever to spend that much time again
Stopped dead on a freaking highway
© Jack Ellison 2012
I’m a daughter of the prairies
Where the weather is extreme
Well I know snow is not always
The sheer joy that it may seem.
Still the beauty of the soft flakes
When they first begin to fall
Can romance me and entrance me
As my senses they enthrall.
As they cover up the clutter
Of the fallen leaves debris
I see nothing but their beauty
In the blanket spread for me.
Long lost memories are flooding.
I forget I’m not a kid.
I want to lie and make snow angels
As so long ago I did.
But that child is gone forever,
And I’ve had a busy day.
I go in to start my dinner
As the snowflakes stick and stay.
By: Joyce Johnson
With Christmas carols softly playing
By the fireplace we sing along
And snow flakes in the cold wind swirling
While winter sings its' chilly song
The scenery turns to a blanket of white
As St. Nick rides by on his sleigh
And children behaving just right
In hopes he comes their way
People filling up on eggnog
And kids in the snow at play
And the flames of the crackling logs
Warm the heart on the eve of Christmas day
I love the white of winter
As the snow lies on the trees
So clean and neat the landscape
But so cold the breeze.
Nothing’s ever perfect
I appreciate what’s best
It’s pretty when the snow falls
Don’t think about the rest.
I quickly grab my camera
To capture all I see
When come the snows of winter
I cannot let it be.
The white snow of winter
Covering all the ground
As far as I can see
That snow is all around.
I see patterns in the tire tracks
And ice upon the lake
What a pretty picture
All these things will make.
Children making snowballs
Throw them near and far
Looks like fun they’re having
Not at all bizarre.
Heavy coats they’re wearing
Just to keep them warm
Temperature is really down
After that big storm.
Yes, I love the white of winter
But can do without the cold.
The night turns to day, it is oh so cold;
The moon is bright and crisp, the sun honey gold;
The forests are brown and leafless, there seems to be no life;
The silent peace within it, no ruckus and no strife.
I love the winter forests, no longer wet and green;
Everything within it, hibernating;
Every once in a while, a small creature will stir;
Sending golden colors up, a flurry and a whir.
Note from Author:
This is a tribute to my Oklahoma home which I sometimes miss very much!
The wind comes blowing through the wood,
And Winter comes a-calling.
The trees give up their last few leaves,
The first snow flakes start falling.
The open, barren branches,
Now look stark against grey skies.
The rose bush too is naked, bare,
It's beauty sacrificed,
To the quiet and the chill,
As Winter now takes hold,
And on the surface Nature sleeps,
Through Winter's biting cold.
Floating snow flakes drifting down,
Make me pull up my hood,
As torch in hand I brave the depths,
Of snow drifts through the wood.
Just half an hour ago it seems,
The path was pristine, clear,
And now the snow has got so deep,
It reaches to my rear.
It will be good to get back home,
But just plain had to mail a letter,
To tell the folks back home about,
This fine Canadian weather.
Never saw snow before in my life until we immigrated to Canada when I was 27yrs old.
I love it and it's a true miracle of God; but it's cold and wet and it's more fun to watch from a warm room than to be outside in it. (Smile)
All night long the snow was falling
Day revealed a blanket white
Snow still floated from the heavens
Making such a pretty sight
Trees are weighed with heavy burdens
Fences topped with pointed hats
In the yard a complex pattern
Where the snow went through the slats
Quail are hopping by the window
Making little trails of tracks
Deer are stripping down the bushes
Shaking snowflakes off their backs
Though the day is white and cloudy
Still the snowflakes seem to speak
Saying, "Look at winter's blanket
It is perfect and unique."
I can't wait to make some snowballs
See the snowflakes flying by
And to feel the snowflakes stinging
As I look into the sky
So I'll make myself a fire
And I'll heat myself some tea
Then I'll build a giant snowman
For the neighbor folks to see
When I get all wet and snowy
And my fingers get too cold
Then I'll make the biggest cookies
That my stove could ever hold
There was a little boy, and Maxwell was his name
His face shone when he saw the snow, he asked to play a game
His mummy wrapped him warmly and tucked him in lovingly
Come on Max let’s go outside and you can play with me.
They built a snowman from the snow, he was tall and round and fat
They put buttons for his eyes and they even found a hat.
They stayed all day to Max’s delight, but all to soon it was then night
Max and mum went inside; he blew a kiss, what a lovely sight
The morning came the snow had gone poor Max was devastated
He ran outside and looked everywhere, but his fears were not abated
He searched the garden and the garage and under each and every bush
But all that was left of the snowman was a great big pile of slush.
His mother could not bear poor Max so sad and she didn’t know what to say
She did something she had not tried before; she got on her knees to pray
She raised her eyes heavenward, arms held in supplication
This is what I want of you, this is my dedication.
I want him to have a snowman each and every day; I want him to be happy
I might even go to church, if you can make it snappy
The morning came and to his delight a snowman was just there
Max ran to his mummy, but couldn’t find her anywhere.
He ran into the yard to see the snowman standing
It had a familiar face-just like the picture on the landing.
God had answered his mummy’s prayer, but he was not one to be mocked
He had turned Max’s mum to snow and now she was quite shocked.
So remember what you pray for, and just do it carefully
What happened to Max’s mum could happen to you or me.
© #GG~ reposted to celebrate the fact we are snowed in .
The cold air reaches the frigid bottom
Freezing the hillside completely on through
There’s nothing that you can do to stop it
So frozen the trees start to snap in two
Ice forms on many trees that are intact
So cold the trees look so poor and distraught
Landscape is so littered with snowy trees
They look as if they’re frozen a whole lot
There’s risk that they could fall at any time
On a hillside that sure isn’t good news
An avalanche could form from its falling
Rolling down into town and right on through
It’s so cold there’s a chance this could happen
Trees have fallen with little more than this
I would take heed and go around this hill
And wait until this cold snap surely lifts
At the crack of dawn shots rang out
Ducks scattered at the sound
Obscenities quacked back from every beak
Hunters were not there for them
They came to capture fox
Snow fell with cartridges as hunters froze in thought
In perfect orchestration with the day and perfect aim
Focused on the games in nature
Bringing down their prey with rifles
Setting traps along the way
Men bundled in pillow white disguise
Running with their dogs and guns through narrow paths
Towering trees held green along the way
Held their ground below the mountain
Looking for some warmth after the captures
Storms rolled in on bitter winds
Enter the calm
Large swirling flakes continued on the quiet
Each one avoiding warmth to hold their form
Away from creatures clad in natures white, like fox
Away from bundled men disguised in white
Snowflakes made their escape into the silence
Surround by snow covered mountains
Glitter in the sun as if sprinkled with diamonds
A beauty worth seeing at least once in a lifetime
Takes you to a place of peace or even a slice of heaven
But that beauty is deceiving
Upon your beautiful landscape Mr Taliban awaits
Nightly raids of incoming incoming, horns blaring
Awoken heart racing, trying to remember your steps through fear and confusion
Two A.M. and I sit here shivering
Fully geared in my pajamas and military TA50
The cold of the snow seeps through my shoes
For in my haste I forgot my socks
I looked around at my fellow Americans
Ranging in ages from twenties and above
The man to my left could be my grandpa friend
And I wonder is this the night that I meet my maker
Early Christmas morning I glanced outside,
and no snow was falling, and suddenly a vision of a luminous light
with a trembling child appeared in sight...
and could this have been the Infant of prophecy and might?
And He softly said with the sweetest and kindest voice,
"I bring you no snow but endless love...the warmest flame
that makes every forsaken and unhappy heart rejoice;
it's a gift so gladly given to all the believers of this blessed age."
Struck by that splendid appearance, unafraid,
I ran to thank him for those wonderful words,;
and not having seen any gift under the decorated spruce,
I seemed puzzled, but not fearful or nearly surprised.
There it stood, my gift from that generous child with golden, curly hair:
a purple spring crocus never seen before, an Alpine flower
which grows in early April in every emerald meadow...
I leaned forward with much gentleness and plucked it from the cold snow.
When I stood up, he was gone and not a trace of him could be found,
and who was that cherub without wings...to leave that flower in the bitter cold?
Wasn't He the Christ Child who was born in a Bethlehem's abandoned stable?
And wasn't hope the meaning of the purple spring crocus so beautiful?
I'm afraid to comment on our extra warm winter
Afraid I might break the spell
This here's only between me and youse guys
From the roof tops I wanna yell
Hallelujah, gadzooks, feels like the tropics
Went out without a coat yesterday
Is this guy nuts? Has he gone totally bonkers?
Sure feels like a spring day in May
Dream on little fellow, you're delusional methinks
You're in for a brush with reality
Oh well I've heard those psychiatric institutions
Are nice with a air of tranquility
But sadly it eventually will come to an end
And I'll be all hunkered down inside
Turning the thermostat to “sizzling” again
A heat rash will redden my hide
Wrote this a year ago as we were experiencing one of the
mildest winter on record! This year... ugh!... back to normal!
Been dumped on a few times!
© Jack Ellison 2012
I thought spring had sprung,
But snow falls from the heavens
Just love Canada!
Unto freshly morrow doth I arise.
Before I, the glazed forest floor in frore.
Forth multiplying flakes parachuting Steele skies.
Yea, thereupon rigid Winter finds home's door.
Snowing again, this is unbelievable
When is it going to end
This winter of so much discontent
What happened to the warming trend
Heard our ice cap is melting rapidly
Is that not just a natural cycle
As this old earth normally evolves
Does it affect us guy's survival
Here's my opinion for what it's worth
It's as natural as all the seasons
No need getting into a real big flap
We'll survive as we have for eons
A simple old man just bumming along
Like the last seventy-eight years
Don't mess with my brain, that's silly stuff
Gonna down another ten beers
© Jack Ellison 2014
Seems no one cares for "winter rains",
So white and wet and cold;
Drifting down so silently,
As we huddle 'neath the folds,
Of coats and scarfs and woolen hats,
And yearn for days of summer,
Complaining 'bout the wet and cold,
Of winter being a bummer.
The ice, the snow, the slippery roads,
Slow going for the traveler,
Are fodder for these transgressed souls,
And fuel their heated palaver;
But there are those who glory in,
The changes of the seasons.
The kaleidoscope of colors used,
Sets moods that give us reason,
To celibrate the time of year,
And it's exquisite beauty.
In nature things are balanced well,
And each thing has it's duty.
From mineral, plant and animal,
To the elements themselves,
We need them each and every one,
For life to go on well.
So don't complain about the snow.
It's moisture that we need.
It feeds the rivers, streams and lakes,
Amid the summer's heat.
It adds a pristine beauty,
As it covers trees and yards,
Of painters, scribes and bards.
The sky is scattered and fallen down,
The earth is no more brown,
Winter has bidden goodbye to the fall,
Snow flakes have woven the white gown.
Very soon they have started to crawl,
On the bare trees standing tall,
With Christmas trees, when they abide
Each looked like a cotton candy ball.
With stored food, having feasted inside,
In their nests, the squirrels like to hide.
Sun is too mild to spread the warmth,
Earth is dressed like a wedding bride
Moonlight glistens on snow
and he's stalking,
slyly slinking, belly-cresting
coverts to the coop.
Silence his canopy,
hugging the hedgerows
to safeguard his cover,
there's death in his eyes.
Silence is shattered,
the virgin white snow is blood-spattered;
no mercy is shown,
no quarter is given.
Silence settles again,
he retires, hunger sated,
he'll forage again as
his craving dictates.