Best Blustery Poems
Blustery breezes rustle the changing leaves:
as Nature braces for Winter's arrival.
And a shower of colors falls from the trees:
in homage to Spring, Autumn's closest rival.
Scurrying squirrels stash stolen nuts like thieves:
acorns are essential for their survival.
And alas, Summer's songbirds are all but gone,
along with the dewdrops that once graced my lawn.
Blustery morning
A ruffled sky stopping by
Tapping at my door
Pretending no one is home
Covers, tight over my head
A Blustery Autumn Day
Mischievous bursts of autumn’s laughter
Pulls down the last of the season’s bright artistry
Carried away on blustery gusts,
Weaving a tapestry of autumn’s magic
In tiny whirlwinds of yellow, orange and umber –
Floating like capricious ghosts into hazy skies
Waiting for the rains -
Then chasing jubilees of color into dry puddles of drifting leaves,
Like flying cartwheels,
Scattering,
Then gathering in again,
And just for fun
Lifting fringes of woolen mufflers, warding off the chill,
Taking aim at woolen hats with rowdy gusts
Delighting in their tumbling down broad sidewalks,
Crowded with bright leaves,
In pirouettes,
Spinning kaleidoscopes in shades of whimsy,
Careening down the lanes or bustling avenues,
Catching breath again to huff and puff,
Blowing in erratic tempest tarantellas,
And giggle
Watching footballs taking errant paths,
Tickling summered tree limbs exposed,
No cover for their naked branches,
With passing gales of glee,
Resounding with the call of cornucopia’s horn
To gather in the Indian corn, pumpkins and ripe wheat
Before the coming days of icy storms
Blow hard with unrelenting icy currents
In winter squalls returning.
At dawn, when I wake my world is a winter wonderland
blustery, gusty winds are blowing pure white snow into drifts
cold, chilling and icy is the air in this lifeless world beyond my window
down, deeper under my fuzzy blanket I sink
even my kitty does not take a peak, but
finally, we did get out of bed . . .
getting a cup of coffee I gaze at my frozen view
hopping on the window sill kitty tries to catch a snowflake clinging
inside is so nice and cozy warm . . .
just thinking of going out makes me shudder
kissing me, kitty jumps down and runs away
labyrinth paths in the park are buried deep
magnificent, regal and sublime the trees have donned their white gowns
nature knows how to create a landscape beautiful . . .
over there, yonder is my car beneath that lump of white
painfully, I realize that I am going to have to go out there into the cold
questioning my sanity I put on my winter gear
ready- I look like I am going on an Arctic expedition
snow, pure white, heavy and blowing waits beyond my doorway
trembling, I leave the safety of the house . . .
unsympathetic, kitty watches from her warm window sill with a meow
violent, a cruel wind almost blows me over, but, oh so
whimsical the snowflakes dance fanciful all about . . .
Xquisite is my view-
yes, winter can be cruel and nasty but so magical too, yet I hate these
zephyr wild snow storms . . .
________________________
February 9, 2020
Poetry/Abecedarian/A Blustery Cold Day
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1224-398-09
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Abecedarian
sponsor, Caren Krutsinger, NA, Judged 03/03/20
Submitted to the Standard contest, Best N-A Poems 2020
sponsor, John Hamilton, Judged 01/16/2021
Second Place
Blustery winds blow outside
so cold.
Minus thirty-four wind chill
so cold.
Fingers freeze within seconds
so cold.
Trees covered in ice, shiver
so cold.
I can't wait for the Spring's warmth
so cold.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Jan.3/2014
I am getting tired of being in this deep freeze. It's been nothing, but, cold here in the Maritimes. I went to Timmy's last nice and almost froze to death on the walk there and back home. I did, however, stay there for a couple of hours and post poetry to warm up. :O)
Blustery morning
Stopping by from a ruffled sky
Tapping at my door
I hide without answering
Covering my head in bed.
December 31, 2016
The clouds have all turned red
And a distant chime rings out
Our words fall like stones to the ground
The blustery chill nips at our necks
Walking through our false ideals
Wondering what happens next
Carry us away to a better place someday
Let me remember the day we fell in love
Let me always feel this way
A blustery cold wind is blowing
The smell of a wooded pallet burning in the winter’s dark
He peels back the jagged lid of tonight’s dinner
Ironically staring at a wall painting of a broken heart
The Lucky Liquor sign provides a beautiful light
Reflecting colors from the earlier days rain
He slowly shuffles to find a dry spot
While taking a shot of booze to mask the pain
His bedding was pulled from an old rusty dumpster
One man’s trash another man’s delight
He anxiously covers his head in a makeshift bed
Slowly sips… and slips off into the night
As he fades into the cold night slumber
Darkness provides respite from all of realities pain
The harsh memories fade to dream-like whispers
The devil laughs at this temporary masquerade
The irreconcilable emotions of her and them
Awakens with the early morning sun
Hopeless feelings from selfish needs
He takes another sip - to forget - all the foolish things he’s done
Shaking off the nights dirt of shame and pain
A prisoner in his own mind
Reflecting back to that crucial moment
All he left for that little white line
The old heavy doors creek open
The candles softly glow beneath the old oak cross
He slowly bends his knees and begins to pray
For all he’s done - and all he’s lost
As he makes his bed for the dark night ahead
The pain of hunger and regrets feel amplified by the neon light
In his makeshift bed he covers his head
Slowly sips - and slips into the night
The Blustery Month of October
Everywhere heard and seen, or so it seems,
Are leaves quivering on deciduous trees,
And those on the ground being rustled around,
In the blustery month of October.
Red and yellow leaves, sailing and flitting,
Are being carried on the wind like children playing,
Roundabout trees, hiding and being discovered,
In the blustery month of October.
Leaves once fresh hung from trees, alive and green,
Now lie in parks and yards, and on sidewalks and streets,
Where they are trampled on or raked and discarded,
In the blustery month of October.