Best Seasonssnow Poems
~~
Hand in hand they meander through the deserted lane,
freshly fallen snow crumpling under foot
Littering the sky, Bright stars, glittering like coins on a belly dancers belt,
slowly surrender to the coming dawn
Inch by measured inch the glory of Ra overpowers the starlight.
In a pale blue sky, a pale golden disc, the colour of ripe oats at harvest time,
looking close enough, and cool enough, to reach out and touch.
Brilliant rays, arrows of liquid gold, capture the pristine landscape,
splintering like a million shards of shattered glass.
No sound, only silence, profound, in the clear crystal air.
In the distance, a cock crows.
Long morning shadows cast by tall pines,
revealing a lone stoat, resplendent in his ermine coat.
Emerging from shade, merging with sunlight,
loping across the virgin snow with bounding grace.
White on white,
only the black tip of his tail and tiny footprints betraying his presence.
In the distance, a dog barks,
A small cottage, a stone chimney, a whisper of smoke announcing a new day,
A hardy little robin pecking with determination to uncover water under ice.
A door slams, the robin takes flight.
Snow slides from the roof to gather in piles like miniature Himalayas.
Icicles drop pearls as the thaw sets in. The world is awakening.
In the distance, a train whistles.
Still holding hands they walk on.
~~
The last of autumn’s leaves begins assault
Of winter gales. The sap within the trees
In hibernating xylems call a halt
To most activity to some degree.
The birds that once resided amongst them
Already left for warmer spots unknown.
A few remain behind but are condemned
To weather winters snow and ice alone.
The snow begins to fall. At first, a flake,
Then more and more until the trees are white
And weighted. Branches, weak, begin to break
And fall to earth and soon are crowned despite
The slackened storm. The wind subsides and all
Is quiet and calmness follows the squall.
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
WONDERLAND OF SNOW
White powdery wisps
Instead of the morning dew...
Winter's Wonderland
* * *
SNOW ANGEL
Walking past the park
Wings made with childlike passion
Angelic Image
* * *
SNOW SNOW SNOW
Whitened droplets
Falling from gray clouds above
Catch one on your tongue
* * *
SNOW
White covers the ground
Trouble starting the blower
Shovel time...again
* * *
JACK FROST
Chilled air on glass
Panes painted with icy hues
Scenes from Jack's palette.
Winter! What beauty and pureness unfold
Snow so white, falling like the rain in spring
While some embrace this, others say it’s cold
But this is the season to have a great fling
Dancing and eating, come friends, lets sing
Everywhere the sound of snow bells ringing
Children peeping out the window lips stuck to the pane
Front yards decked with snowmen, icicles dripping
Pull out the snow sleds and toboggans lets go insane
Lets forget about the season when we had wind and rain
Lovers walking to the café, hand in hand
All bundled up, knee high boots, scarves around the neck
Soft and gentle music playing by the in-house band
Nice and cozy on the inside empty chairs on the deck
Her cheeks all rosy, he cups her face and on her lips plants a peck
For 'Welcoming Winter' contest by Carol Brown
The snow has come,
everything is at a standstill.
Everything grinds to a halt except,
for the little children sledging.
A little snow and the schools shut,
The nurseries close down, nowhere
to send the children. Ah, Grandparents"
Must get to work, big project on, alas
when I get there they too have shut down.
Car stuck in the snow; how do I get it out?
No shovel! "Heh, can I borrow your shovel?"
"Not mine it's his but sure you can use it."
"Thanks for the use of your shovel!"
"Ok, can you give me a shove?" "Sure!"
Back hurts, slipped disk, oh no, not again.
Go to hospital, no staff, where are they?
"Didn't you know, we had a snowfall today,
no one turned up. I am the only one here.
Never mind love, if you sit in the waiting room
I'll make sure someone will come and see you.
It could take three or four days but hang in there!"
Copyright Robert Cartwright-Davidson February 2009
The first snow fell all angelic and white
We built us a fort full of snowballs to fight
The mailman rounded the corner much to his surprise
Two big fat snowballs dotted both of his eyes
The policeman was summoned all dressed up in blue
We got scared and decided we should just snowball him too
His face was beat red as he filed his report
Stomping all our snowballs and tearing down our fort
Then he led us back home had us each by the ear
Where up on the porch sat uncle Joe with a beer
The policeman told Uncle Joe he would lock us away
Uncle Joe stepped off the porch and made night of his day
Now here we sit in juvy and uncle Joe he is in jail
I reckon I’ll write Santa ask if he can post our bail
Or maybe send his reindeer to crash right through the roof
So we could fly up out of here, upon the golden hoof
If another snow falls all angelic and white
I’ll build me a snowman but l won't snowball fight
I can't seem to bring the contest up so I hope
I did this right. This carol is done to the beat
of "The First Noel"
The old draught horse with weary hooves will slog
through wet snow pulling hard and breathing fog
and he glides still near farms and fields where we
dream warm of home and fireside's reverie
The motion lulls--my anxious thoughts depart.
We wander, but we know the way by heart
For I was caught by night, but moonlight shines
o'er hoarfrost-painted flowers on the pines
It's nearly silent, daylight's din is gone
save padding fox feet, snow break, night bird’s song
Far down the path I know where you will wait
with arms outstretched to draw me through the gate
Autumn approached about a week ago as stealthily as a fox!
The corn has been shucked and the golden fodder stands in shocks.
Luscious apples have been plucked from every supple bough.
Sweet-scented alfalfa for the cattle has been stowed in the mow.
In yon woods the trees wear robes of brilliant yellows and reds.
Excited children have been burnishing the runners on their sleds!
The rasp of crosscut saws resounds from yonder oak tree grove,
As many cords of wood are sawn for the parlor heating stove!
Skeins of majestic geese grace the sky in their southward wing.
We'll miss their haunting cries but they'll return again come spring.
Cellar bins bulge with onions, punkins and sweet pertaters.
Shelves groan 'neath jars of corn, beans and beefsteak termaters!
Tom Turkey is being fattened up completely oblivious of his fate.
Unbeknownst to that strutting dude, he has a portentous dinner date!
Squirrels scurry about collecting nuts with vigorous animation,
Hiding them hither and yon about my lawn for later exhumation!
Wafting leaves weave a carpet of gold and scarlet upon the lawn.
The rising sun tinted the first snow on the mountain's crest at dawn.
Vagabond zephyrs that now gently shove the lifeless leaves around,
Anon, will become shrieking gales piling drifts of snow upon the ground!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
The snow capped mountains,
Beautiful snow formations;
Pristine white landscapes.
With winter upon us
We shall not make a fuss
As the snow begins to fall
The trees still stand tall
As the days grow shorter
Happiness will be a tall order
As a blanket of snow covers the ground
Spring is nowhere to be found
As the nights grow colder
We must fight bolder
For a memory we retrace
Spring will soon be in our face
I can feel winters chill,
I see snow falling from my windowsill,
time to go out and play,
my dogs, they love the snow today,
jumping and romping around,
all else is still, there is no sound,
letting out their energy, and making some great memories,
now I do enjoy this season,
cause my Buddy and Duke, they gave me the reason.
It's the first snowfall of the year
And it takes me back....
I remember the first time I rode her in the snow,
So afraid she'd slip.
She didn't want to go out
But we both needed some fresh air and exercise.
Her ears laid flat when she saw the saddle.
She was not impressed.
I think she had hoped I was just bringing a treat.
The snow wasn't deep.
A few wayward snowflakes, stragglers,
Were still falling.
So I saddled her and off we went.
Avoiding paved roads
Where she would be more likely to slip.
We stayed to the dirt road running past the house
And a few familiar trails.
I believe she aimed for low hanging boughs.
I was covered in snow in the first twenty minutes.
My punishment for this silly idea, I guess.
Soon her ears picked up and her step became more sprightly.
She, too, was getting into the spirit of it.
Only an hour, then back to the barn.
No falls, a couple minor slides in footing
Which she handled like a pro.
There I brushed her down
And she attacked apples with a renewed appetite.
The next day the rain washed it all away,
Except for the memory.....
it remains.
Although the snow falling from the darkened night sky
looks beautiful and peaceful,
I cannot help but dread the effort it will require
to shovel the collective accumulation from my driveway
in the morning.
Although the ice covered tree branches
look spectacular, glistening under the light
from a winter’s full moon,
I cannot help but worry that we may loose
power soon as the result of a
fallen branch on an electrical wire.
Although I sit comfortably,
sipping hot cocoa in front of an
amazingly warm and sparkling fire,
I cannot help but contemplate how
much longer I have before I must
venture outside in the bitter cold to
replenish my supply of logs to fuel it.
Although I smile while looking forward
to frolicking in the snow with my kids tomorrow morning;
making snow angels, snowmen and other snow creatures,
I cannot help but worry about the
forfeited spring break to make up for
all the school snow days this winter has created.
Although I love the winter;
her beauty; her freshness;
her white purity; her calming fury;
her peaceful ways; her glorious sparkle;
I cannot help but dream of the
summer sun and warm beaches
that are but yet a few months away.
The last of autumn’s leaves begins assault
Of winter gales. The sap within the trees
In hibernating xylems call a halt
To most activity to some degree.
The birds that once resided amongst them
Already left for warmer spots unknown.
A few remain behind but are condemned
To weather winters snow and ice alone.
The snow begins to fall. At first, a flake,
Then more and more until the trees are white
And weighted. Branches, weak, begin to break
And fall to earth and soon are crowned despite
The slackened storm. The wind subsides and all
Is quiet and calmness followed the squall.