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On Writing And Words Snow Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Snow

These On Writing And Words Snow poems are examples of On Writing And Words poems about Snow. These are the best examples of On Writing And Words Snow poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative |

Scarlet Portmanteau

Duke Luke by his bateau
Arrived at his chateau,
Had he travelled through large eau!

His mysterious rendez-vous 
with Henry Thoreau
Yielded him a scarlet portmanteau.

Entering his bureau,
he took off his manteau
and opened the portmanteau:

The Snow Man was inside
And though not well could he sing,
Sang he a song of himself:

Stopping by woods on a snowy evening
He met Annabel Lee on a large shelf,
Frightened he was by the raven
And took the road not taken:

Crossed he the mending wall
And hearing the anecdote of the jar
To noble savage Billy Budd an honest fare he paid

Large and far
Travelled he
From spring to fall

Self-reliance: the idea he hath
The American Scholar guided his path;

He slept a long time
In a clean well-lighted place;

One winter he woke up
In a station of the metro:
He fastened his tender buttons
and found a red wheelbarrow;
'No ideas but in things' -
A lovely image this brings!

To his disappointment and sorrow,
He never saw the snows of Kilimanjaro.

Duke Luke in disbelief
Wiped his eyes
And pinched his ears;

The Snow Man disappeared.

Duke Luke
Took a look 
At his portmanteau
In hopes of seeing something

He found


Copyright © Lukasz Walterowicz | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

How Did Santa Claus Broke The Reindeer Back

How Santa Claus broke the reindeer back

I am just disappointed he is such a play ball; he refuses to joined the community gym, he have no consideration for a hard working reindeer like me. Please do us all a favor and stop telling everyone that you’re tall and slim Mr. Claus
Santa put this in your pipe and smokes it. I am forming a union; you can contact my Lawyer Mr. Tin Tin

 I need some Fringe benefits else I am going to quit; year after year after year I chauffeur you around
This is not a smooth ride on green grass, it’s cold, cold snow “please looked around.
Breaking into people houses late at night, dropping off toys, we are plaster on every walls and poles
Santa this reindeer is off radar; you get off your fat ass or hire Casper the friendly ghost.

Copyright © Annie Lander | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse |

White Knights

Blanched Bones

We’ve not dreamt the crystal morn,
the tinkling ping of sun warmed ice,
the egg white branch of lilac dipped,
the magic of the wintry day 
which fills the heart with awe.
Such days of silver ice and blue white snow 
the lancing spears of ‘cicle formed
awake are we to majesty, that all too soon is gone.
Gone in graceful austerity, a loveliness all its own,
the white of skeleton, these beauteous bones.

White Pages

Within the pages white as snow
and between the lines as black as coal,
to all the places You have sowed,
Oh Lord, let me abide within the line.

Within the turning page we see.
Alight, aflame in harmony.
And friends or foes do go in mystery.
Oh Lord, let me abide within the line.

Let me alight in peace with Thee and Poe,
with Kipling’s tales in Just So
with Moses staff and Joseph’s sign
Oh Lord, let me abide within the line.

White Sugar in the Morning

The Baker has glazes the brush today
twined vines, the grasses, the forest's trees.
He’s covers every hemlock with white,
downy protection from every breeze

The Baker’s glazes with soft snow of white
like meringue upon every birch twig,
His frosting covers the mountain's sides
no glacial boulder or spruce is to big.

He is top-dressing the architecture;
He's polishing the acres of asphalt.
Yes, the Baker’s glazing the world today
He’s an artisan given to much thought.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

Footprints in the Snow

There are footprints in the snow;
whose they are, I do not  know.
Some are human, some are not;
Some are buried, hard to spot.

Since I haven't been around,
Feet or paws have tramped the ground,
Possibly in search of food
Or to seek some solitude.

Either way, they've left their mark,
Lending me the proper spark,
Waking up my appetite
And the urge to sit and write.

So I offer up my thanks
To the creatures from whose ranks
I've gotten wind, with gentle hints,
They've paid a visit, leaving prints.

Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Snow and Silence - For Ellie

Shine a candle in the shadows
break the glow stick green
Conquer those New England days
You know what I mean
Tree limbs tapping at the window
frost on rivulets grey
Open up the blinds and melt them
into words you've yet to say
Soak in bubbles brought to boiling
swirled in steam and sleep
Break the silence with emotion
I am yours to keep.

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse |

Because I Did Not Care to Write About the Snow

Because I did not care to write
about the snow
the blackbird pulls within itself,
sucking feathers into its vortex
like a footprint.

Surely there are meanings
to the ice-covered lake
turned white.  We write
the words with our feet,
not guessing their meanings.

In the snow
the blackbird remains black.

The sky stutters.
It does not know
the essence of the ice
locked below.

Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2005