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
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2012
Outside so cold
Let Winters story unfold
The lake now ice
A fire out back, so nice
As the blizzard sets in
A snowball fight will separate the boys from the men
A snowman emerges from hard work
A little boy knocks it over, what a jerk
A snow day for school
All the kids think it's cool
Shovel the snow from the porch
The intense cold can scorch
Go back inside
From the cold, run and hide
Copyright © Matthan Atherton | Year Posted 2009
What would it be like if I were a tree
Just how different my life would be
Standing still for years on end
Perhaps it would drive me round the bend
Back and forth I’d sway in the breeze
Then in the winter my branches would freeze
In the autumn I would be naked and bare
But I’m just a tree so who’s going to care
I’ll attract all the birds when it turns to spring
They will sit on my branches and then start to sing
Building their houses they fly too and fro
Too bring up their young I watch how they grow
When it gets cold they’ll all fly away
The sign that its winter with a sky that is grey
Alone again not one single bird
The sound of the singing not to be heard
All the little animals have all hidden away
I’m stuck in the ground that’s where I will stay
I see the odd person who’s out for a jog
Then there are others out walking their dog
Then they will stop to let the dog pee
But why do they have to do it on me
Kids swing from my branches till they fall apart
If only they realised I do have a heart
Then there are others who give us the chop
Just to make furniture to sell in their shop
I wish I could talk then I could explain
That I do have feelings and I do feel the pain
So next time your out you’re bound to see me
Maybe you’ll realise I’m not just a tree
Copyright © TANYA CANNING | Year Posted 2015
The snow white blanket glistening
so brightly all around
has grown so very tired
as the winter's winding down.
Oh how we long for Springtimes' sun
to smile about the place
to melt the weary winter snow
and wash its' dirty face.
But when the old and forlorn snow
has melted we shall find
we'll curse all of the Springtime mud
that it will leave behind.
This was inspired by Moggie, the woman I was aid
and companion to, when she was commenting on
the dirty snow and said someone should write a
poem about it. I wrote this for her and I wanted to
share this with you. RG
Copyright © Robin L. Gass | Year Posted 2009
The pipes are froze up
and my car won't start.
The husband's sick,
Lord bless his heart.
I slipped on the ice
and I'm in a lot of pain.
Hubby's got the trots
and the potty won't drain.
Snow's piled up
to the windowsill.
Couldn't get to town
to pay the electric bill.
Got blisters on my hands
chopping all the wood.
Checked out the chimney.
Got a face full of soot.
Fire was dying down
so I gave it a poke.
The flue fell shut,
now, a house full of smoke.
Opened up the window
and the pane fell out.
Snow's coming in
and I'm plumb Tuckered out.
Hubby's got his fever
to keep him warm.
Guess I better bundle up.
Here's another snow storm.
I can hardly believe
we survived the night.
A few icicles on our butts
and a little frost bite.
Contest: Winter Poems #1
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014
Winter's chill is invigorating
Like and electric chair--zap!
Those cold hands make me want to run screaming
Get those icicles away from me!! Oh snap!
Welcome winter, don't last too long, where is my cap?
The blustery wind in less than fifty degrees
Cuts like a knife, injury to injury I say, winter don't stay
High heating bills, charge account is over drawn, PLeeease!
The daylight is short and the sky is gray
Why does it have to get this way??
For Carol Brown(for the contest)
Oh yeah welcome WINTER!
Christmas charge account is over drawn??
I owe what??
Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2010
This sub zero stuff may finally be over
How do we survive every year
It ain't civilized, it's downright barbaric
This year got a frozen rear
Sat down on the coals in my barbecue pit
Took twenty-four hours to thaw
Till finally I smelled a very strange odour
Realized it was time to withdraw
A Canadian dude but this is insane
Even I can't handle this stuff
Told Cathie, better hide all the knives
Enough is bloody well enough
Likely flying south with the birdies next fall
Can't take another winter like this
Too old and decrepit, way past my prime
As I leave, I'll throw you all a big kiss
This sub zero stuff may finally be over
How do we survive each year!!!
© Jack Ellison 2015
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015
Ó February 5, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2013
Winter Begone: Ode to the Squirrely
I found myself outside braveing Winter's bleak
Snow lay deep upon the ground--long past a week--
As more flakes christened life on this frozen creek
I saw him standing quite still, puzzled and meek
He wore a nice fur coat with snow on his crown
A powder of new flakes not yet on the ground
With a shake of his coat--one last look around
Up a tree he climbed and then looked back down
There high and aloft with no ifs ands or buts
I heard him quite clearly yell back, '"Winter Sucks!"'
But what he said next pulled my drolls from their ruts:
'"It's gonna take 'till July to thaw out my nuts!"'
(Inspired from a meme on fb)
Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2013
What are Cabinites all things you find when cleaning cabinet dwellers
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
early winter cold
heat pump hums pumping warm air...
There is a skunk in our area that is spraying in the early morning hours and the heat pump is picking up the scent and spraying our house..
Does any one know how to get rid of a skunk besides hitting it with a car or truck????
One advantage could be that it is keeping away enemies but maybe even family and friends..LOL
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2015
“Guten Morgen”… or should I say “Good Morning”…
This is Punxsutawney Phil
Hailing you from Gobblers Knob
That’s my tiny hill!
Today, I am feeling like such a lucky ground hog…
I know that some of you may be weeping
But as for me I will soon be sleeping
Because, there’s going to be six more weeks of winter ~
You may say Phil what were you thinking!
Well, it was kind of hard to see here
With the rain turning to snow
It’s the day after the Super Bowl
Yet, somehow my shadow it did show;
You know I had to go,
Because, it frightened me so
Thus, back to bed I must go to hibernate
But not before my veggie shake…
By the way, the game was just great,
This is Phil signing off… Saying
“Haben Sie eine gute Nacht”
Meaning “Have a Good Night”
I’ve been up way too late!
Copyright © Adell Foster | Year Posted 2015
"The Sky is Calamotastrophing!"
Screamed little Jenny Lou!
And everyone panicked, running this way and that!
I just didn't know what to do!
Amidst all the commotion,
I quite calmy asked,
"What does calamotastrophing mean?"
But Jenny didn't reply back.
The sky was calamotastrophing
right on her head!
Boy I bet she wished that today
she never got out of bed!
There were huge chunks of white stuff
thumping on the ground!
I could even see a glimpse
of a spark come out of a cloud!
The sky thought it'd be funny too
if it dumped water on us as well!
And so we were drenched with water!
Jenny wasn't happy! I could tell!
"Why are you doing this?"
I yelled to the sky.
It answered back with a freezing glob of powder.
But soon, the sky stopped
calamotastrophing for good!
"I'm glad that's over!" I said aloud.
At least the word calamotastrophing I finally understood!
Copyright © Jacob Cra | Year Posted 2013
My twin sister came for a visit to New Hampshire at 30 below,
It was even more frigid when the fierce wind would blow.
Wearing her leather coat from Georgia, she didn’t have a prayer…
If it hadn’t been for a funeral, she never would have been there.
She got out of the car on arrival, and let out a squeal,
Because of a strange noise she heard that made her reel!
She said, “What’s that horrible, creepy sound?”
I replied, “It’s just the snow creaking from your feet on the cold ground!”
She said, “You have to go back to Georgia and get out of this hell hole!”
She was shivering from head to foot…the cold had taken its toll.
Later that year in the summer my revenge was oh so sweet!
It was 100 degrees in Georgia and she was complaining of the heat.
She said, “It is 110 degrees in the shade and I can’t do a thing with my hair.”
I said, “You’ve got to get out of that hell hole you have down there.”
“It is 75 degrees and beautiful, and my hair looks great!”
“You can have the weather in Georgia... this is worth the wait!”
Contest No 220 Any Form or Theme Max of 16 Lines
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Awarded 9th Place
Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016
IF IT’S AUTUMN, CAN WINTER BE FAR BEHIND?
Whose woods these are I’ve no idea
But my little horse sure thinks he’s queer
His house ain’t in the village no more
He promised he wasn’t stopping here.
Between the woods and frozen shore
Live many people rich and poor -
On the darkest evening of the season
They watch at every window, every door.
They think the weather’s dreadful freezin’
But feel that it is almost treason
To not watch woods fill up with snow;
Doing otherwise seems contrary to reason.
Bells a-shake, dark, deep in the snow,
Their heroes murmur sounds so low.
For these people Frost is someone they know:
There’s Jack outside and Robert below.
I simply couldn’t resist a parody of Robert Frost.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
Meeni my cat was never white
She painted rouge and went to fight
With rat Palustris
And a bony fish
She looked black in the winter night
Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2015
Under The Ducky Moon
The Winter had been Harsh, Harsher than Most. Now cabin fever had taken its toll.
I was beginning to act a little bit weird, but so were others I know.
Then suddenly the sun revealed itself, its warmth was beginning to show.
Ice began to melt from the chair in my back yard, and yes it tempted me so…
And then I snapped, its true, I know, with the melting of ice and snow.
With every single drip… drip… drip… my mind began to go…
I’d been stubborn and frozen to the core on many a winter’s day.
As I had stayed by the window, while I’d typed my poems away.
I had counted every icy day… toward those beautiful blessed Spring Rays…
Then one day the temperature went from 8 to 78, and that took my breath away…
I threw off the blankets that kept me warm and I danced…a lot I say!
No matter how crazy it looked… I’d enjoy the January thaw, making hay!
It’d soon be winter again, so I ran outside and chiseled the ice from that chair.
Then in defiance I sat there as my dog slid over sheets of ice with flare.
To our neighbors we must have looked crazy, like we didn’t have a clue.
But they quickly turned back, to chiseling ice from their driveways anew.
But my dog and I continued to stay disposed quite nice.
After all there was only 4 inches of deep blue ice.
Yep, I sat there and watched as water began streaming down the street so
I continued to sit there until I saw that the full moon had finally come out.
Then I began to wonder if perhaps we should beware of the nutty people running
As if!!! I answered. The Full moon’s got nothing on cabin fever. No doubt!
I continued to watch until some ducks peacefully flew across the full moon that
At that point, I knew my choice had been absolutely truly right…
For the cold would come back, and I’d always remember my choice…
This day would Forever be the day, when the Ducky Moon brought this story to
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011
I thought I saw a snowflake in June
Perhaps, it was just silly daydream imaginations
Or were ongoing investigations really do
Upon further horizon inquiries
The sun ended interviews in blushing denial
And when heavenly interrogations finished
The sky was turning guilty blue
I’m absolutely sure
The clouds were somewhere amidst the cover up
Fortunately, a little pigeon squawked
And revealed something of the simple truth
That, there was a brewing
Conspiracy of rumors, flying
So I ruffled stoolie feathers convincingly
To spill the beans, out with his scandalous news
It seems a wintry prima donna
Performer of the coming season
In order to beat the ratings
Broke out early and was somewhere on the loose
Could it be
The very same stitch of ice I'd seen
A snowflake thespian
Acting out in the month of June
Then, I saw a glistening
Of arrogance pass right before my eyes
And tiny banner waved
Followed by the squeaky words “see you very soon”
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief
And then, my tongue was quickly unleashed
As I closed the case of any further flakes
From trying to make their premature Hollywood debuts
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
This was not my today's agenda,
Hankies for snuffles my addenda,
Here I rest, moribunda!
Wintry weather down under,
Suppose it is not so bad,
Bed rest to be had,
Not in the rat race,
Cosy bed today's place,
Definitely not my today's agenda,
Copyright © Julie Grenness | Year Posted 2015
Snowflakes falling, falling all night
My pine tree adorned, now illuminating under snow
I brush and brush off, unveiling Christmas twinkling lights
Giving the white ground a colorful glow
An appearance of a Hallmark card, I must say
My children gather around the tree in merriment
Then one by one they form fluffy snowballs
Laughing mischievously they begin to throw them at me
Well you can guess what happens next
Yep, before I was done they are covered in white
Red face and cold we all go indoors for the night
In front of the fireplace tired, beginning to warm
We look at each other and started to grin
Deep belly-laughs replaces the grins
You can't have enough of a good thing
For Nathan's "Christmas Joy" contest
Copyright © Connie Gildersleeve | Year Posted 2012
(Sung to the tune of Jingle Bells)
Dashing through the snow,
It's thirty-two below,
My hands are cold, my feet are numb,
For some this weather sure ain't fun.
My eyes are tearing up,
My nose has turned bright red,
My fingers hurt, the car won't start,
I should have stayed in bed.
Ohhhhhh! Off to work, Off to work,
I gotta get to work.
The car won't start, the battery died,
I'll have to try to hitch a ride.
Standing in the cold,
I'm waiting for the bus,
If I don't freeze to death today,
It's 'cause pneumonia got me fust.
Merry Christmas, Y'all
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011
I never want to touch one Do they wear brass Never dug a well Never sat on an iceberg Penguin's not touching that I can wait on the shovel Don't have an ex-wife Not kissing her mother Ha Ha never seen lawyers with hands in their own pockets I have never cut class that way I have never got ice cream from a cow
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
The poppy said "No",
The nasturtiums said "Wait"
The seedlings were jumping at the gate;
"We have to get through Winter first,"
The old oak spoke, and everyone burst.
The pansies nodded in assent,
With a great deal of sentiment.
He looked down sadly at his girth,
Smiling wryly with perfect mirth;
"Ten more years is all I am worth".
He glanced at the herbs tenderly wilting
And spoke as though his heart were melting
"We have to be patient and wait for Spring,
And there's the catch, it's a learning thing".
"I won't make promises I can't keep
And we all know Winter will put us to sleep".
Summer will rise again, in all it's glory,
And that for now, is the end of my story.
Copyright © Judith Palmer | Year Posted 2010
He strokes away the greens
To touch mosaic
Upon, the now of autumn trees
And amidst set breeze
Leaves of paint chips scatter
And from on high, let a harrowing slip sneeze
Lastly to December
Branches, canvas bare
When He's decided...
To shake away the dandruff, from right out of His hair
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
A spider spun a silver web
in a mound of golden straw,
Then he hid himself inside the stack,
away from the wind so raw.
He yelled down to the sheep below
Who were trying to huddle close,
“It’s times like this that I wish there was
a fire for a mutton roast.
For winter had come upon the land
and his barn was deathly cold,
He wasn’t sure if he’d survive the night
if the truth of it were told.
He tried to dream a dream of hope
to get him through the night,
But he couldn’t bring himself to sleep
because of a blinding light.
A star was shinning down on them
as if the sun in mid-day glory,
The little spider had yet to learn
of the coming Christmas story.
Below was a ewe with her lamb
both snuggled up together,
Trying their best to keep warm
in the cold of the winter weather.
“I’d never trade places with you anyway,”
the mother sheep bleated out,
“Why are you so happy in your hate
to lend voice to pain and doubt?”
The light from heaven kept them awake
and staring in wide wonder,
When two weary travelers entered in
and the straw became their plunder.
The little spider became dislodged
as a nest of straw was piled,
And he could see that one of the travelers
was very great with child.
The three companions watched it all;
they’d never seen a human being born,
They were all surprised when at his birth
There came the peal of an angelic horn.
A herald’s call went out to all the land
announcing the newborn king,
And the spider and the ewe shared a laugh
to think of such a thing.
Because this baby was so very small
and his parents were so poor,
Yet there was something about this newborn child
that neither could ignore.
The spider looked down on the ewe
and said in a voice too bold,
“This baby needs to be swaddled now
to keep him from the cold.
Good ewe I can spin for him a cover
if you’ll allow me to use your fleece.”
So together they worked to swaddle the child
on this night of Holy peace.
The mother smiled at them all
as she took the blanket for her boy,
Then laid him in a manger poor
and they were overcome with joy.
The meaning of this wondrous event
was what made them all feel glad,
For they had brought the first gift to the Lord
by sharing what they had.
And the warmth, which they had provided the child,
also kept the three of them warm,
May the loving joy that they discovered
keep you this Christmas morn.
Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011
If I hadn’t seen the speckled splash
hadn’t heard the cry -
a forlorn sound
reaching out to distance -
I wouldn’t have this shivered-thought
Yet? The joke’s on me
A bird for all seasons
Loves to trigger imagination
He’ll shriek at wedding or wake alike
He’s just hungry
But I wish to hell
on this gray late December day
with ball descending
He’d drop his load on someone else
Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2010
Whispering winds of winter woe,
icy branches bend and bow,
catfish cradled in the mud,
winter waters slow their blood.
Scampering squirrels, fat & fluffed,
chasing, leaping, playing rough,
the birds are bent on staying warm,
surround the suet in a swarm.
Babs and Buster, canine friends,
stalk the squirrels who torture them,
they snort and sniff at gopher holes,
tormented by these mining moles.
In the western window, warm,
the felines flourish through the storm,
soon the sunshine's streaming in,
thus the cooking of cats begin.
Cloaked and covered, in cozy coats,
we wait for Spring with hallowed hopes,
to lay upon the dock again
and feel the sunshine bake our skin.
Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2009
I feel a cold chill,
It seems that Winter is near,
Oh wait, It's a prank!
Copyright © Stuart Madsen | Year Posted 2015
At the foot uv Pikes Peak sprawls the old minin' town uv Cripple Creek.
They wuz nigh on fifty-thousand folks thar when minin' wuz at its peak!
Ol' Bob Womack, a cowpoke, struck gold in Poverty Gulch stakin' his claim.
'Tis said he sold out fer 500 bucks and a jug o' booze - whut a pitiful shame!
Others with more business acumen moved in and made millions off'n them hills!
Platoons uv gamblers, soiled doves and saloons wuz thar fer the miner's thrills!
They wuz even a few preachers and churches to tame them rowdy souls!
The Ladies Cultural Society strove to guide the rabble to reach more noble goals!
To the west, Mount Pisgah, bare and bleak, stood sentry over the raucous town,
Located thar is the cemetery containin' the bones uv some uv dubious renown!
But it must be said that thar is some decent souls sleepin' on that dreary hill.
Thar lonely graves are swept by the winter winds that shriek so bleak and chill!
Pearl DeVere is buried thar, 'madam' uv the classiest cribs in Cripple Creek!
She catered only to upscale gentlemen, those with clout, men uv wealthy clique!
The undertaker done her up right smart and the town turned out when she died.
They saw her off in style with a grand parade and finest hearse fer her final ride!
'Doc Susie' Anderson is also buried at Mount Pisgah and wuz the inspiration,
Fer "Doctor Quinn, Medicine Woman" and is remembered with great admiration.
Saint and sinner, lawman and desperado lie side by side on that desolate hill.
Their lonely graves are swept by the winter winds that shriek so bleak and chill!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011
december fly buzzing by
how on earth did you survive
frozen cold outside
snow drifts waist high
how are you alive
december fly buzzing by
my naps slumber you deny
bzzz bzzz bzzz
over my head you whiz
how i wish you dead
but you wing me instead
hovering over my naps bed
why why oh why
are you still alive
nasty noisy naughty december fly
december fly buzzing by
erasing my afternoon lullaby
happily you swoosh by
dive bombing my tired eyes
waving hands, a moan and sigh
up i slouch sitting on the couch
swing a pillow at the nasty fellow
december fly now you hide
peace and quiet now reside
i know your game so coy and sly
mean so mean december fly
i place the swatter on the coffee table
i recline to rest feeling able
if he dares awaken me again
i'll swing and swat the life out of him
beware december fly
this very afternoon you die
but a yawn and pillow soft
i again nod off
the portrait of our dear aunt bernice
now has a smashed fly in her teeth
hope i clean it after i finish my rest
could be a story for our evening guest
sweet dreams and goodbye
in deep winter no longer alive
rest in pieces little december fly
Copyright © Fritz Purdum | Year Posted 2014