Poetic Form: Prose Poetry
December Days Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Karen Jones
Entry Submitted: 2025 November 01
Contest Judged: 2025 November 11
Contest Placement: 2nd Place
Here where the hibiscus and the palm tree sway, December wears a mask, a sun-baked day. The air is dense, a solemn, muggy sigh; No frosty breath to hang the winter sky. The calendar integrates as the year grows old, But the earth, a young bride, refuses the cold. No white covering quells the green-clothed land, Just ocean rumors on sun-drenched sands. We seek where the stones stand, as assurance’s strong, A parable of familiarity where we truly belong. It should be brimmed with ice, a silent guard, But the tropical heatwave makes the vigil hard. The stone stands, a heart, unmovable and true, Yet the absence of snow paints a sky too blue. This December is a clock with hands reversed, A winter’s tale delightfully dispersed. We are the trees, confused, with leaves so bright, Awaiting shadows that won’t take their flight. The island dreams of silence, sharp and deep, While the warm waves roll, a secret it must keep, That the soul of winter is not in the flake’s soft fall, But in the resilience of the stone standing tall. The sun, a fiery bear, keeps the cold wolf at bay, In this warm December, the stone still holds its sway.
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