Best Ice Rink Poems
Another Christmas season has arrived, at last
and like so many others from Yuletides past,
I'm glad some things have remained unchanged
Although the furniture has been rearranged.
Across the room, a fire crackles and burns
Jenny has grown; for love, her heart yearns
I recall when all she wanted was a baby doll
and skates for the new ice rink in the mall
I've been unpacked in just enough time to see
my family hanging ornaments upon their fir tree.
Garlands of holly berries and popcorn strung
The green velvet stockings beneath me are hung
There's gingerbread scent and carols on the radio
Dad sneaked a kiss from Mom under the mistletoe
The angel nods to me as she's lifted into place
atop the tree. She once told me her name is Grace.
There's old Kaci, the collie, fast asleep on his rug
Grandpa looks sad. I wish I could give him a hug
Mom is headed for the mantle to give me a shake
She's always gentle, taking care I don't break.
I was a gift from her Mom on Christmas, long ago
when she had asked Santa to please bring her snow,
but snow didn't fall in the South where she resided.
I was the closest thing Santa had lovingly provided
Tears fill Mom's eyes as my snow starts to flurry
I've become a bit cloudy and that makes her worry,
but I'll see her smile again Christmas Eve night
when she puts me in Jenny's stocking by fire light.
December 15, 2020
Christmas Poems ~ Old or New
Sponsored by ~ Constance La France
Pretending can be a bold form of experimentation
and inventiveness. In pretending joy or happiness,
we may discover or enhance our capacity for it.
Harriet Lerner
Lord Leofric: The waging of war is man’s affair
Lady Godiva: Then wage war in your way, M’Lord,
and I’ll wage war in mine
Movie, Lady Godiva of Coventry (1955)
MASQUERADE
Quivers the man traversing the icescape.
Queen dominates the saddle with her eyes.
Size five, bare, narrow feet melt snowy floor.
Masquerade - his wife dreamy in disguise.
Flesh, smooth as ice rink, after zamboni.
Warm hearth behind the seven veils of d’sire.
Godiva tresses descend to her knees.
Bright red lips, parting flames, a flute of fire.
Singes where cherry makes contact...shivers
and moans like Winter Nor’easter through trees.
Memories malleable — tongue to ink.
Lobe, neck, thighs surrender to cold night tease.
Quiet warmth underneath the satin sheets.
His eyes wide open - concedes his defeat.
2/1/2021
Sensual Poetry
Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot
HMS Line 1 lists icescape as 3 syllables but it is 2
I look to the sky and ask,
Can he help find my way?
I've been wondering through this darkness
And still haven't found the light of day.
Struggle after struggle
I'm trying to find my way.
Time after time
I'm clinging to that little bit of faith.
Physically, spiritually, and emotionally drained
Venturing through this storm
But I can stand the rain.
No angels on my shoulders,
It's just demons now.
Fighting for first,
Never know which one is leaking out.
I try to stay positive,
Be optimistic about things.
Then turn to a pessimist,
That's a depressing change.
My mind goes insane,
I can't stay in one lane.
Veering off-road,
So my paths are never the same.
Many things I've seen,
Every memory is a movie scene.
Many are great, but has a fuzzy screen,
Bad shows up clear as day, it will make you scream.
Nightmares keep taking my breath away,
I can feel it in my chest.
Dying multiple times,
But wake up with cold sweats.
I lay here and look up,
I ask why me?
Why put me through the fire,
But have me cold as an ice rink?
Many things inside that I want to question,
Hard to pour out,
I have introverted aggression.
They say send your prayers to god,
Sometimes I feel like I have to leave him a message.
I ask again,
can he help find my way?
I'm fighting for my dreams,
I'm going through wars to be king some day.
Even though this road I'm taking,
May not get me there right away.
I still cling to that little of hope,
That I won't let my faith die away.
Form:
The snow leopard
A snow leopard is walking down snow covered streets.
In these empty streets, she walks alone, a vision to be seen.
With skyscraper buildings on either side,
All the cars are silent,
The apartments only have a few lights on,
As she walks outside in the night-time.
With every stride the snow leopard creeps along,
These empty streets with her eyes fixed upon,
Her destination; the local fountain has become an ice rink.
She needs a place where she can sit and think
And the frozen water is calling.
The scratches on the surface from skaters earlier in the eve,
Are sliced crisscross by fur-covered shoes;
Her claws dig in deep.
With perfect balance she moves along;
Tail flat, she is relaxed, no pressure is on.
No need to flee, no-one to be seen.
The snow leopard lies down to relax; her cub inside is heavy.
Before dawn has arisen, the snow leopard has awoken.
Her ears pointed skyward to listen to distant sirens.
From early risers, phone calls have been made;
The zoo keeper is on his way…
But with a flash of her silhouette, the snow leopard is gone;
She was only seen close up for a second,
Before she disappeared into the thick winter’s fog.
Never to be seen again, but the lights in the skyscrapers remember.
The snow leopard stood here, on this cold night mid-December.
From where she came, nobody ever truly knew;
Some people say she was here simply looking for food.
She had been hiding a long time in a snow cave;
Her footprints were filled by the snow and her tracks began to fade.
She never was found and never again did she return.
The snow leopard was just passing through, her image just a blur.
Like a wind through a narrow street,
A piece of ice falling through a cloud;
A memory of a snowflake that disappears as soon as it is found.
There was no sign that the snow leopard had ever been around
And there was no way to know why,
The snow leopard ever came walking through this town.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Pondering past loves in the dim light of age,
the memories float upward, smiles engage sounds.
Ah, what was his name that handsome man from the stage?
Blindfolded, he lifted me and reality disengaged.
The sound of the harmonica swept all around.
Pondering past loves in the dim light of age.
A serenade planned, the empty ice-rink re-staged,
I was placed in the sweet spot, I drowned in the sound.
Ah, what was his name that handsome man from the stage?
Once unmasked, I tumbled to his arms, my eyes glazed
like Ophelia sinking on love's waves to drown.
Pondering past loves in the dim light of age.
Oh, the places he took me, my senses ablaze
in sunlight, in moonlight, in starlight, un-gowned.
Pondering past loves in the dim light of age.
Ah, what was his name that handsome man from the stage?
Random Think!
Tiddley winks
Panthers, Pink
Le Pew stinks
Seegers’ Batfink
Kia ora drinks
Glasses clink
Octopus Inks
Mineral zinc
Giza Sphinx
Torvill ice-rink
JarJar Binks
Computers sync
Honey he shrinks
Corporate Inc
Bond minx
Nuclear brink
Rhyming links
Random think!
Oh, my – elated thrills delight my chills!
No matter how often I pinch myself,
we are snow globe coupled ‘neath white hills
in Christmas Cheerville with merry elves.
Sweet town abounds with dreams come true.
Heaven is skating on this ice rink with you
thru ideal, melodic, soft falling snow
and holding mitten clad hands as we go.
‘Tis romantic bliss receiving your kisses
that long topped my Christmas wishes.
I love inhaling my desired view –
a world construed for two, me and you.
I feel so safe and completely warm
in this lovely, ongoing snowstorm.
With your strong arms around me
my temperature reads happy.
Covers lift, shift and love’s snow globe fades
as my eyes view my husband sleep arrayed.
Smiling, I wonder, ponder, feel and I think
of ways to gift him, my love, an ice-skating rink.
... CayCay
December 12, 2018
a figure of eight
on the ice-rink in Iceland
a twirl of our Kate
12/18/2015
The path led to rose bushes cul de sac.
Early in the morning, we sat down to rest.
Dewdrops are still shining on the track.
At our feet, a swarm of ladybugs, deft.
Petrichor arose as the July rains left us back.
A strain expressing your clumsy affection.
Tune into your breathing and heartbeat.
This is a dreamy time for such passion.
Flog love is bound to the cul-de-sac part.
It is essential to preserve buried emotion.
This curvy, icy nook is set in a helix maze.
Poetry and syncopation reignite the fire.
Even talking may be risky at night phase.
Shut the door if you wish to quell desire.
Light should be veiled by a smoky haze.
Platonic ties might be a bottomless sack.
Lyricism, zeal, and merit are key factors.
The outcome of love, then, is not a cul-de-sac.
if these are quickly obfuscating actors.
Intending that love is the sweetest shack
A full moon glides through winter dreams.
The cul-de-sac ice rink is nearing its end.
Facing reality while reminiscing streams.
Droplets seize their will to settle and wend.
Twilight moon shines with merry schemes.
Ashen-faced friends slow-motion blast.
In the cul-de-sac, the lovely house fades.
Sleeping flies swirl the remaining cast.
My cup is filled with an autumn shade.
Affinity seems to be a shackle of fact.
Only going out mattered, for a brief time.
Spring equinox has just been drenched.
Paddle a boat through the azure, sublime
The skeletons' soliloquy was quenched.
Without other elements, this is grime.
The lake thawed as the ice started to glow.
for the goal of exposing the ostentatious.
Cut on a slant, with a glimmer of a rainbow,
As my mother would say, you are gracious.
This is not how you wish your child to grow.
That desolate road cul-de-sac of shame.
I imagine the life I'd lead there as a coward.
Swans, a lake house, and a child on tame.
The tourmaline-dazzling wisteria has soured.
Parents were overjoyed to view the game.
1st place contest winner
Written: February 02, 2023
This Or That, Vol 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Welcome winter month into my little haven of dreams and joy
your rouge cheeks and your fresh air kisses will do us all good
Let me worship in your ice rink of fun and chatter with my friends
while I sip on cocoa from a foam cup and share a story or two...
Winter tide greetings from Jack Frost is always a warm embrace
when it comes from the heart, we neve tire of the lit up snow
Sunshine loves to shine especially on a cold cold day, and we
are the lucky captives of lovely rays, each time we put our faces
up to the beautiful ice blue sky.
Hospitable season that you are you are generous with inventive games
such as ice skating, sledding, skiing and angel making techniques,
Oh let us not forget ice fishing for those wonderful sportsmen
who love to fish...
I welcome you winter, dressed to the nines with wooly attire
the only thing you do to me dear January, is inspire to aspire.
A white hot finger points your way,
pushing air aside with each advancing message.
The renting of air with thunder clap abroad
makes too much noise, chattering like rattling lungs
Whispers to an unacknowledged Lord
bringing forward promised prayers.
The elastic of fear bringing Him ever closer
Listen, above the din, a whisper.
Just a faint whisper in the grass.
A tap on the shoulder, a poke in the chest
Cold, so very cold, yet burning hot.
With stench of faeces left too long,
the shadow of death falls over this life.
As yet unknown to its carrier
This cold, sucking, life-withdrawing colourless odour.
This all-pervading, all consuming watered soul,
so thinly veiled with blood and flesh.
This breathing vessel of emptied life.
With ice rink stare upon which skaters cut
figures to the reapers dance
This day, this very focal point,
where time no longer elapses, shall
feel the clod but not the shovel.
And keep a watch without relief
Slug letters in love,
Worms in a lurch,
Failing to match my own mark.
Each penning a bluff,
A skull-twistic irk,
Like landscaping turds in a car-park.
But shock! Some light! We simmer simile, and Cat at that cunning Rat, Rhyme -
And that ice rink sketched, with wretched wurds, looks sudd -ernly - utt -erly -
sublime.
like piano doves
like silver birch
like yanging ying - light loving dark
like books far above
from a planetary perch
look to copy proper Plato, who copies Cooper Clarke.
"Ice" - a name given to an ice rink nearby.
Boys meet nice girls there and say "Hi!"
They pay at the till, then hone their skill,
After, that is, the warm-up drill.
Some of the boys are world-class, they say,
But it's wishful thinking - "what's that... hey?"
It's only a local place, "not on the map"...
They can't be world class with a zip or a zap.
The two hours over, they then go away,
Some to close friends where they're invited to stay.
"See you next time!" say the boys who said "Hi".
"Okay" say the girls, "See you, boys... Right, 'bye!"
3/1/2023
Contest - Writing Challenge - 'I' Words
Sponsor - Constance La France
2nd place win
It numbs my hands
It frosts my soul
Plays with my head
This wicked cold
I'm petrified, angry
Frozen, can't think
Thoughts spin in circles
A mental ice rink
I want you to warm me
To melt in my skin
Climb over my glaciers
Heat me with sin
Please hurry come burn me
A storm's to unfold
Flame me, save me
From this cruel wicked cold.
So many people rave on about summer
To me this couldn’t be dumber
Winter is the time for me
A time where I feel truly comfortable and free
Winter is great sleeping weather
Either alone or embracing together
There is no season that is better
Some like it dry I like it wetter
My troubles get washed away with the rain
Swept away like the winter leaves down the drain
A time where I feel less pain
A time where I feel slightly less insane
With considerable rain comes a departure of the water restriction
One can bathe without fear of conviction
In summer people smell and sweat
Less likely in winter because it’s cold and wet
Winter starts on the 1st of June
With the darker winter nights comes a brighter moon
The sounds of the rain and wind at night
The pound of thunder accompanied by sparks of light
When it’s cold you can put on a beanie or an extra top
If it’s hot there are only so many layers you can strip before you must stop
Winter is a time for rain, hail and snow
A time when the weeds slowly grow
In winter there are less flies, rodents and ants
In winter I can feel comfortable wearing pants
In winter termites are less active or even dormant
Good for us but for them a bad predicament
Winter is a great time for a hot drink
And an excellent time to head to the ice rink
In winter you can hug without feeling sticky
Being intimate when it is hot can be quite tricky
A drink stays cold so you don’t need to add ice
In winter you can have a hot curry with rice
In winter football is played
Birds migrate and eggs are laid
You lay beside a warm fire
And drink red wine or whatever you desire
There’s nothing finer than a warm home cooked dinner
In winter you are less concerned about being thinner
You may get a little cough or sneeze
And you may see images like these
Children playing in a puddle
A loving couple having a cuddle
Winter colours can be dark but also bright
Like when water turns to snow it appears white
The sparkling of stars at night
The fallen leaves with the wind in flight
Winter is most definitely the best of the four seasons
This has been proven with so many reasons