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Villanelle Winter Poems | Villanelle Poems About Winter

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

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Details | Villanelle |

The Other Side of Winter

(A Villanelle)

The winter’s dismal path is long and gray,
a never-ending march of cheerless dark
with skies whose colors bleach in dull array

where forest scene gives one a true display
and leafless limbs provide a raptors' park.
The winter’s dismal path is long and gray,

and through the open grove a new ballet
of life and death beneath the brittle bark
and skies whose colors bleach in dull array.

A wind unites with rain while leaves decay;
each limb begins to dance a graceful arc
in winter’s dismal path so long and gray

till snow appears and hides the hunter's prey.
New scenes occur of softer landscape mark,
tame skies whose colors bleach in dull array.

Resplendent white now blankets to allay
our thirst for beauty with a lustrous lark.
The winter's dismal path is long and gray,
with skies whose colors bleach in dull array.




Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014


Details | Villanelle |

The Cycle of Seasons

Spring; bursts forth new buds happily alive.
Time brings its cycle to succor the best.
Winter life rested knows how to survive.

Dancing with snowflakes helps cold night dreams thrive.
Watching and waiting, throughout winter’s rest. 
Spring; bursts forth new buds happily alive.

How do they do it? Its natures contrive.
Beautiful blossoms open to attest.
Winter life rested knows how to survive.

Peace fills the garden as beauty revives.
Welcoming warmth displays nature’s bequest.
Spring; bursts forth new buds happily alive.

Bees bring sweet nectar to their hive’s archive.
They plan for winter as they buzz with zest.
Winter life resting knows how to survive.

In springtime sleeping plants wake up, revive.
The cycle of seasons once again, blessed.
Spring; bursts forth new buds happily alive.
Winter plants resting know how to survive.


12/24/2016

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2016

Details | Villanelle |

Winter Light

For Joyce

My hands remember your brightness

Your face graces the morning

Lights up the winter darkness


You light up the winter darkness

Common serpents curse winter suns

my hands remember your brightness.


My hands remember your brightness,

the windy blood in song, on a clay harp sung,

You Light up the winter darkness.

Your warmth lights the frosty air


And you, my love basking in pale light

Thinking of you wrapped in sunlight,

My hands remember your brightness,

You light up the winter's bleakness.

Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015


Details | Villanelle |

When Winter Fell Upon Our Graves

When winter fell upon our graves

The light of the moon illuminated our paths

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.

Flowing through the air in waves

We could finally read our epitaphs

When winter fell upon our graves;

And the snow made its way across the plains

As we felt the cold winds against our backs

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.

Sunlight breaks through as nighttime fades

But doesn't show our tracks

When winter fell upon our graves.

No longer bound by our faiths

Freed from our traps

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.

Acting out our final roles in our eternal plays

Was it all a dream? Perhaps.

When winter fell upon our graves

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.













Copyright © Adam Piper | Year Posted 2014

Details | Villanelle |

Through the Winter Cold he Rode

(Re old poems)



By  the  moonlight,  night's  pearly  softness  glowed,
In  their  slumber  deep,  fog  skirted  knolls  shoaled;
Through  the  winter  cold,  clipp'ty  clop  he  rode.

Down  the  twisted  alleys  and  to  highroad,
Flew  out  in  wind  his  fluttering  hair  gold;
By  the  moonlight,  night's  pearly  softness  glowed.

In  the  silence  bare  as  the  mist  bellowed
O'er  the  turrets  enshrouded  in  their  fold;
Through  the  winter  cold,  clipp'ty  clop  he  rode.

His  shadow  tossed  on  the  water  that  flowed,
As  galloped  o'er  the  bridge, ' twixt  moorlands  old;
By  the  moonlight,  night's  pearly  softness  glowed.

Meet  his  bonnie  lassie  her  chin  furrowed
'neath  her  cherry  lips  in  his  hands  to  hold;
Through  the  winter  cold,  clipp'ty  clop  he  rode.

Her  dark  eyes  under  green  eaves  that  mellowed,
Where  blushes  of  their  love  in  whispers  told
By  the  moonlight,  night's  pearly  softness  glowed;
Through  the  winter  cold,  clipp'ty  clop  he  rode.

..

© gautami Phookan (24/5/2011) , All rights reserved?

1st Place 'August 2011, Poetry Soup Contest'



..

Copyright © gautami phookan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Villanelle |

Highveld Winter

I love the quiet and long shadows of winter,
Thrown as I walk in the veld through brown grass tall,
When the sun is low and the cold is bitter.

Finches and waxbills no longer twitter.
Under foot the frost crackles at each footfall.
I love the quiet and long shadows of winter.

In the silence deep I have an urge to call
Out loud, to claim a patch however small.
When the sun is low and the cold is bitter.

Alone in the veld I feel that I own it
As far as my shadow reaches. And recall
I love the quiet and long shadows of winter.

A slight breeze ruffles the grass like a drifter.
As the day is ended there comes nightfall
When the sun is low and the cold is bitter.

Now far away I see candle lights flicker.
As the cold night bites I tug on a shawl.
I love the quiet and long shadows of winter
When the sun is low and the cold is bitter.

Copyright © Keith Beavon | Year Posted 2016

Details | Villanelle |

Winter in Rittenhouse

The park is nothing but a mass grave
for the plant kingdom when unravels the night. 
Winter's spectral feet whisper like a knave.

The flowers they did not save.
A cloud barrier and  light.
The park is a mass grave.

Every bough exposed, prepared to slave
many months carrying clumps of white.
Winter's footsteps whisper like a knave.

Mother's light diminishes like a hollow ocean wave
grass letting go of green sight.
The park is a mass grave. 

An old eucalyptus looked upon the ground and forgave
the clouds who stole the sun and bound him in blight.
Winter's gait whispers like a knave.

Light charged with icicle breath and the sky steeped in iron, let's be brave
before gravity's chants begins and the ground turns. The truth will bite. 
The park is a mass grave and winter's stride whispered like a knave.

Copyright © Noah Dugan | Year Posted 2017

Details | Villanelle |

Winter's Battlefront

Moon, amorist of winter, gloom disguised affront
gloom relentlessly tucked dawn tight til morrows rise
heartbreak lacking in winter’s battlefront 

humanity skews expectations for the annual salacious hunt
as moon dazed by winter's rare gloom 
moon, amorist of winter, gloom disguised affront

qualities winter sported, moon locks eyes, longer to confront
whispering in ear, pleasure tickles moon with smooth chills
heartbreak groaning in winter’s battlefront 

at noon of winter, moon shed tears of ice, intent now blunt
moon sought revenge, flooding winter white to brighten gloom
moon, admorist of winter, revenged gloom’s affront

punishing gloom, moon bore the brunt
incarcerating gloom, caged at opposite pole of winter
heartbreak fizzled away winter’s battlefront

moon rocking in chair, still eyes upon Earth from forefront
winter's gleam whirled in orbit as gloom inched near
moon, admorist of winter for gloom secreted winter’s affront
heartbroken humans ignorant to winter’s battlefront

Copyright © Garrett Breneman | Year Posted 2017