In riming realms of crystal contemplations
frozen water vapor meditations
and chilled flutes filled with zodiacal light musings
of ancient cosmic dust
in the arms of Sol ~
windswept operatic reveries
rise and fall
as her stirring soprano
tickled by chantings of icicled chimes
in strengthening sprays
of frosted musical notes drifting in broken chords...
a clouded steed colored mother-of-pearl
flowing with fury
within which beats a blustery heart
surging at jet stream speeds
she hearkens to hailstorm hooves
from the streamered skies of the merry dancers
they fly aloft
on arctic gales of lyrical laughter
igniting the imagination
of her freezing fire
burning now with a blistering whip
and a nipping frostbite
that sinks its tingling teeth deep
a supernatural stage
her aerated soprano soars
in polar vortex arias
as avalanching glazed trinkets;
decendants of her fertile femininity
in shivering sixfold symmetry
in fierce flights of fancy
as she cyclones on consecrated currents
with wild abandon
in twirling trills
of glass beaded squalls
swirling her iced eiderdown skirts aflare
baring tempest thighs
storming with a Siberian sting ~
and as her electric eyes
with luminous lightning
she buries you
in a blizzard
of opal mistletoe berries
and wanton whims.
February 20, 2018
~ First Place ~
Contest: Your best free verse 2018
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018
The single white rose captured the old gardener's attention,
He lovingly cared for it, like it was his own grand-daughter,
The roses were just like family and friends in his eyes,
He gave them bright sunshine, and plenty of fresh water.
He had always planted roses in reds, yellows, and pinks,
Yet, it was the one white rose that he favored most,
The old gardener admired it's innocence and elegance,
A quality that the other roses just could not boast.
This precious rose was pure white, like new fallen snow,
Which only a cold, late November day could bring,
It's delicate petals were soft to the finger's touch,
Similar to that of a feather, in an angel's wing.
The old gardener was perplexed and astonished,
Only this rose bloomed through spring, summer, and fall,
Each of the other roses had withered months ago,
The frost and cold weather did not affect it at all.
With a smile, the old gardener took one last look,
Unknowingly, death would soon come without warning,
After he had settled down for a nap in his chair,
He drew his last breath, later on that morning.
His funeral was held on the very next day,
Loving words were spoken, as he was laid to rest,
His grand-daughter approached, with tears in her eyes,
As she placed the single white rose upon his chest.
The cemetery was a quiet and peaceful place,
Where family and friends gathered to remember,
A gentle snow began to fall upon the casket lid,
Brightening the gloom on this final day of November.
The old gardener's soul departed from this earth,
Lead away by a choir of angels, on delicate wings,
Then on through the pearly gates of heaven's garden,
Where the white rose still blooms, in eternal springs.
November 25th, 2013
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013
Crying River (The Untold Ballad)
Undercover waters of rain dash
Cold children, no smiling splash
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem -shallow basin
She cries a tune,
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her wind, Pretty Chains O Lake
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from her garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain
When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's wide awake during winter's rain and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, ice cold snap, bayou stirring up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps
A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
"What happens in the forest stays in the forest"
The trees are trimmed,
The leaves on the ground
Proposing passion, sweet mist
Naked with nothing to bare or wear
Nature's breath lightens the atmosphere
She breathes in, he breathes out
The auditory sensation of rain
- drums down and deepens
The course is near its end,
Deep in this forest night
A Gentleman among the trees,
Hibernating new seeds
"On the other side of the forest"
He guides a path, with ebony eyes
A convincing vent, I accept
The fear is broken, I sleep in glee
The whispers disappear
Drying in peace by the secret bayou
Broad leaves lay under raw landscape
Lulled by the chills he quills
A quarter past midnight
- prepares the new sheets of Winter.
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015
thick blanket of snow
snuggling the flowerbeds
with a winter wrap
6th October 2014
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014
ON THE YOUNG MANS BALD
EYES BLACK AS
NIGHT STARED INTO
FRONT OF HIM
PATHS WHERE THE
CHILDREN HAD ROLLED
THREE BALLS OF SNOW MUCH EALIER THAT VERY DAY.
PATCHES OF GREEN GRASS
STUCK THROUGH PACKED
IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS FACE
A CROOKED CARROT POINTED TOWARD
THE HOUSE WHERE CHILDREN SAT LOOKING
OUT THEIR WINDOW AT THEIR NEW FOUND
FRIEND. HIS BUTTON MOUTH SHAPED FOR
HIM TO LOOK HAPPY SEEMED TO SMILE
AT THEM AS THEY STARTED TO BLOW
KISSES AT THEIR WONDERFUL
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
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
Sunlight glistens off crystal snowflakes
As they float and flutter through the sky
Like butterflies in their freedom of flight,
Never knowing where they might alight.
They leave us awestruck as they join
Together turning the landscape white.
Closer view reveals no two are alike.
In this way, we as tender human beings
Have much in common with snowflakes.
We treasure our freedom, we are each unique,
And there is much beauty as we unite as an
All encompassing gift to each other
Bonded by the strength of coming together.
Winter is a time of rest and rejuvenation,
A time to prepare for rebirth in the coming spring
As the first bulbs push their way through the
Snow covered ground, slowly rising up in
A blaze of glorious colors, exalting spring hope.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Poem of the Day February 25, 2017
Thank you Poetry Soup Team!
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017
Dead Winter Stray~ By: Poet Destroyer
Nearby paces, Combatants lost under the cemetery walls,
“Blessed Men and Heavenly Remedy Women of Ages,”
Feelings of dance at the beginning of nightfall,
Scenery of fire, sadness passing this history page,
In that distant curve, somewhere nears the sundown stream.
Far away from the vision of mortal eyes,
A child plays as beautiful and pale like the sunrise.
She plays on the coast this beautiful but pale, sun raised child.
Pursuing nature, in a hushed angelic lucidity,
“In hushed angelic lucidity!”
Fragile fastened, to those adequate bones.
Profound deepness beneath the snow winder dust,
Below the memoirs of her floating vessel,
Reminisces of water drowning down rivers and streams,
A shattered female kneels in salvation.
An anvil so heavy it troubles the mind.
Lost in profoundness, in what might have been.
What was, for a moment in this period?
The grimness of her weak vessel dwells.
A lifeless winter strays around.
An album so old and dusty,
A christening gown not ever embraced.
Infinite, the woman and pale child of sunrise,
Soften footfalls beating out the torments.
Countless nights seeing the day of unspoken headstones,
Feelings of dance will never rest this heartache.
Eternity, in a dance of unconditional need,
Their hearts unite as one...
A closing of mother and child…
Dead Winter~ By: Catie Lindsey
There walks Warriors in that graveyard,
Holy Men and Medicine Women of ages;
at night you can see their Spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner, up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snow drifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her body afloat
down rivers and streams of Remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight on a burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was, for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers,
in a dead winter of the unborn,
on page forty-nine in the family album,
in a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance,the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance, The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one...
the woman and the child.
~By: Catie Lindsey~
(for Catie's: Re-write contest..)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
Waltzing with the wind,
in crocheted gowns of white lace…
flurries of snowflakes
sway to sweet divine music...
that only angels can hear.
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014
Autumn drapes her lacey hoarfrost
Upon the vanishing vivid leaves of
Colored trees, upon the fences and fields
Gracing them with her demure beauty.
With her breathy chill animals prepare
For Jack Frost's stealthy fall arrival.
When his first flakes begin to fall...
Oh the beauty of it all makes one sigh.
Glorious winter twirls her pristine skirt
And naked trees welcome her white layers.
When snow has covered all the grounds
And crystals in ice cycles hang from eave's
It is winter who has been crowned Queen.
Without her blizzard bringing the freeze
No ice skating fun for eager little ones,
Or romantic skating on the moonlit lake.
There's sleigh rides in the snow as children
Show adults how much fun it can be
To build a much loved snowman, as they
Recall the glory of it all from younger years.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
Biting winds and swirling flakes of snow had finally abated
We surveyed the deep drifts, which lay on the fields
The silvery moon peeped through the clouds and lit our way
It was bitterly cold, but the pitiful sound of bleating spurred us on
Some friends and neighbours had joined us – we had no time to lose!
Grabbing our spades we worked tirelessly throughout the night
Digging out the sheep and tiny lambs one by one
Their fleeces were matted with tiny icicles
As dawn broke we had rescued all but one of our precious flock
Suddenly our trusty sheepdog Shep started barking
We trudged to where he was frantically pawing at the snow
Our hearts lifted as we pulled the final sheep out alive
At last it was time for us to return to the farmhouse
In the distance I could see gold and silver lights sparkling
and scintillating on the Douglas fir tree in church in the village.
I raised my eyes to heaven and gave thanks.
A Winter Poem
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
silver, gold, sparkling, flakes, icicles, drifts and spades
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
By the breath of God frost is given ...
Hast thou entered into
the treasures of the snow? ...
Out of whose womb came the ice?
and the hoary frost of heaven,
who hath gendered it?
— Job 37:10; 38:22,29
Standing in the winter cold,
tasting the small snowflakes that fall
I think of you, my God ...
and your boundless cascading love
You revealed to me the secret treasures of the snow
How each small act of kindness
is like one little glistening snowflake that the wind blow
Your love so heavenly dispersed
across the whole earth
Billions and billions of countless snowflakes,
I open my mouth wide to taste
So much heavenly love cascading down;
I see the virgin snow shining all around,
as more snowflakes of love fall to the ground
Your godly wisdom shows us
that the heart of man wax cold
So You reveal the warmth of Your endless love
in the form of the falling snow
Your evergreen shower of white love covers the whole earth
Each small snowflake
represents an act of pure faith birth love
given to each individual
Billions and billions of souls,
and billions of countless yet-to-be more
Be fruitful and multiply God said:
Let the whole earth abound with love
I see the snowflakes of cascading charity
shed abroad from the heavens above
Such pure, falling white love
Oh, how the cold feels so warm!
So much infinite love cascading down
Your love, my God, truly transforms
And more snow, more snow ... more snowflakes
keep falling out from the storm —
like hoar frost manna
falling down from the sky
They’re heavenly tears of joy ...
gently melting in my mind
Of whose falling,
I now know the meaning why
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017
I stand on the snow covered mountain
Colorful vase of flowers
Slopes with flower beds laden
I saw the snow lotus flowers
I asked, “Why are you all alone here?
Beauty is meant to be adored.
Should give yourself to somebody
Before your petals fall to dust soon, dear.
What if I crushed your petals, I asked
As at these heights, you are quite lonely”..
One of the flowers quickly responded
“I enjoy the shelter of blue skies.
I would be too glad
If you choose to crush my petals
My fragrance will spread everywhere.
Fulfilling the purpose and duty
If destroyed, not admired.
By plucking my petals, remember
You won’t gather my beauty,
Beauty is to see, not to be plucked'.
“O’ lotus, you teach wisdom to man
Praise her beauty, don’t destroy her.
It is the gladdest thing under the sun
Touch a hundred flowers not pick ever”
O’ man, pluck not wayside flower even
It is the traveler’s dowers.
Silently a flower blooms alone
And in silence it falls down
If I am worth many pleasures,
I think I am too few then”.
June 15, 2014
Form : Ode
First Place win in
Contest: My favorite poem by Carol Eastman
Form: Ode (the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode)
Rhyme scheme: ABABCDECDE (Ten lines)
Second place winner in
Contest: Ode sponsored by Jared Pickett
This is the English Ode, also called the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode.
The Romantic Ode often followed the Irregular Ode's structure
and the Homostrophic Ode's meditative quality.
The poem also won the second place in the International Poetry
Contest of 2011 by Poetry Soup.
Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2010
There once was a little snowflake
that was beautiful, cold and white
He was created up high within the clouds
during a storm one winters night
There were millions and millions of other flakes
but, no two that look alike
So, every snowflake received a name
and, his given name was Mike
Now as long as the wind was blowing hard
the more Mike hung around
But, it made him large and heavy
For, now he's heading towards the ground
There was Susan, Steven, Jimmy and Kyle
There was Sally, Kim and bill
They all came down together with Mike
as they landed on a sill
Of a cold and frosty window
on that stormy winters night
They gathered all together
as they waited for morning light
The sun then rose above the horizon
it's light...lit up every flake
The colors that came from all Mike's friends
a rainbow it did make
The beautiful snow lit morning
left Mike nowhere else to roam
But, he was happy to be there with all his friends
as he made that sill his home
Copyright © Roger Horsch | Year Posted 2013
At the window, palms under my chin,
such beauty I see, out the frosted pane,
I was mesmerized, it showed in my grin,
so picture perfect, the snow covered lane.
My daydream was dashed, Mom called from the door,
"time to brave the cold and clear the sidewalk,"
grabbed my winter coat and boots from the floor,
I hate this chore, but knew not to back-talk.
"Don't slip on the ice, watch out for the plow,"
I hear, as orange shovel meets concrete,
shouldn't the county have this done by now?,
this takes all day, with snow piled up in feet.
Why freeze for allowance, I'll never know,
yet, I still find myself shoveling snow.
November 18th, 2014
Sara Kendrick's contest - "Jobs"
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
Twin, silver cathedral bells, sway and chime.
As every note peals out, clear and sublime.
No winds blow through the sky, this silent night.
The peaceful heavens, filled with a celestial light.
Arm in arm, down the icy lane we do walk.
Heart to heart, our souls they seem to talk.
A pair of happy cardinals, one red, one gold.
Go bobbing through the snow, so white, so cold.
Along the hillside, stands rows of frosted pine.
The fields, blanketed in diamonds, a vision divine.
Couples, young and old, seated in horse-drawn sleighs.
Making new memories, and reminiscing their by-gone days.
Nestled so close together, like two turtledoves.
All bundled up, with warm scarves and gloves.
Amongst white winter lands, we two do wander.
While our light hearts, are growing ever fonder.
Written for Isaiah Zerbst's contest - "Let It Snow-12 Paintings of Winter"
This poem was inspired by the painting-"Christmas Day" by John Ritchie
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
I had waited for you seemingly forever
So long did it take before you were to come into my life
But in so many ways you had always been there
Your hair so white more than once people
Said that you glowed
Your eyes blue gray
Soft but piercing.
In the spring we’d plant flowers and you quite the digger
Would never tire of ‘replanting’ oh the control God blessed
Me with that summer
On the porch we would swing and sing until my throat would be sore
And still Id manage one more
Lavender Blue, You Are My Sunshine, Red River Valley
I can still hear the wee small voice
In the summer under the big maple the front walk
Would flood and we’d run back and forth barefooted and splashing
Your face, pure joy, your eyes animated, your smile so wide
And those cheeks I could tweak them right now
Is there any better sound than giggles and splashes
Autumn we would take long walks and picnics down in the woods
And sit on a fallen tree. We’d find ants and worms and spiders and rescue the most
Precious of treasures. Feathers, milkweed fuzz, acorns, so much
Bounty for the taking. We’d bring them home and glue them
On paper or cardboard or make touch books
Winter oh please let’s have snow for winter. Snowmen
And snow forts, snow balls and mmmm snow cream.
I remember the look on your face at your first bite as
If you had just made magic.
We read books by the fire, books and more books
Then you would touch my lips and ask me to
Read one with my mouth, which meant to make
Up one just for you.
You have been blessed with intelligence
You have an uncanny ability to fix things
You’ve never seen before
Your sense of humor can put me away
Until I beg you to stop
You have a sense of logic beyond your years
You will sit on the floor for hours and build block towers for babies
Most importantly my son
You have been blessed for an unquenchable thirst for God’s own heart
At eighteen our time together will be changing but sitting here
I remember the words from a book we used to sing to each other
“I’ll love you forever
I’ll like you for always
As long as I’m living
My baby you’ll be"
Copyright © Laurie Ginn | Year Posted 2009
Winter shakes his robes of white
And storms around the stage,
As Spring waits calmly in the wings,
Observing Winter's rage.
The skies, like lead, are heavy now,
And not about to lift.
For Winter's tale is far from told,
As snow begins to drift.
Traffic struggles on the streets,
And wise men stay at home.
Winter paints his canvas, bold,
In shades of monochrome.
With icy hand, he strikes the lake,
And bids the waves, "Be still!"
As Spring can only watch and wait,
With time left yet to kill.
Copyright © Robert Haigh | Year Posted 2018
A melancholy sky spreads feathery clouds
bound together like a down duvet
sending tiny frozen flakes
drifting to the ground
as puffs of
and blot out the sun
behind a sheer veil of white
collected from the heavens above
A melancholy sky spreads feathery clouds
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
Our sweet dog Holly lies under our tree
She is wagging her tail so gleefully,
Knocking about the light Christmas tree balls.
She becomes quite shocked as one of them falls.
Holly thinks her gifts are ribbons and bows
She chews them and hides them, where?, no one knows.
Holly loves to romp in fresh fallen snow.
Her happy dark eyes just twinkle and glow.
Her cute black face is covered like frosting
While chasing a rabbit she's accosting .
She has a good canine friend named Jessie.
Holly and Jesse's paws get quite messy.
After their long frisky walk in the park
Holly gets tired from her Christmas lark.
When dinner completes her desire,
She loves to keep cozy by our log fire.
Holly is content with pats on her head,
Then snuggles to sleep at foot of my bed.
Christmas Story Contest
Sponsor Eve Roper
*This is a tribute to a very good friend's two dogs,
Holly and Jessie, who reside in England.
Merry Christmas to everyone!
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017
Against the velvet canvas of night the downy snow falls all around me.
Silence deafening,falling upon my ears in this winter wonderland I see.
The chill of winters breath places it's kiss upon rose petal skin so light.
Whilst I stand 'neath tiny flakes and behold this magnificent sight.
I adore the silence of this winter wonderland that only my soul does know.
As I walk by crystal streams that flow dotted white with cottony snow.
Oh the heavenly peace that encompasses my soul this wintry night.
As the snow glistens and sparkles under the soft glow of moonlight.
I stand awestruck as I gaze upon snow covered emerald pine.
Dusted in winters frosty touch so heavenly sublime.
God placed a love of winters beauty within my lil' ol' country heart.
Soft memories of this wonderland from my mind will never part.
Copyright © Mary Hoose | Year Posted 2017
The snow wafts gently down
Softly and quietly coating the ground
With a silence so loud
Blankets earth like a shroud
Trees hold snow laden boughs
My steps as I walk make barely a sound
I take this path alone
Pondering certainties that are unknown
The twists that living takes
Mistakes we sadly make
The tears for loving’s sake
The many ways which our love hasn’t grown
Lamps aglow light my way
This beauty conflicts my heart that’s so gray
Now I wish you were here
But instead my heart fears
As our love disappears
I’ve pushed you away and there you will stay
This snowy evening stroll
And I realize your love feeds my soul
I beg of you return
So much we need to learn
It’s for you my heart yearns
Without you my darling I can’t be whole.
January 7, 2018
Written for Contest: Rhyme Me A Poem
Theme: A Snowy Evening Walk
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Judith S | Year Posted 2018
Call it what you want!
I call it, his favorite season hunt...
Two hoofs imprinted near the riverfront.
Echoes calling my soul with a loud, ferocious grunt.
I smell it in the air, lost upon the white golden stair.
A deep frost dwelling all over his lair.
Tangled by the frozen grip of my hair.
A decision, I declare to give what he won't spare.
This man has no red suit..
Lurking in the white to recruit.
A midnight suicide clouding me with pollute.
I pause my tongue on mute, lost in a white castle chute.
Headed straight into a shivering blazing star path.
The land of snow covered like a bubble bath.
Breaking icicles like crystal glass, suck3d by the milky-way mass.
Multiplying bruises like a cascade, enjoying the aftermath.
Finding a way to slit the pain in my domain.
I grab a coat and lace my name to Mary-Jane.
Inserting the finest line to ease the drain in my brain.
I drink the icy scotch, and drop a silver nickel into the devils cocaine.
Fallen in to his bait, its too late, I got 7 lines on my dinner plate.
I'm covered up in snow, enjoying the amazing way to suffocate.
Eight beats to every minute is my new heart rate.
I'm reaching for the white golden gate, where the white devil waits.
Drowning like liquor in a frappe mixing the winter's high tide.
Death to my soul is where I hide under this white blanket neutral side.
Too heavy to uplift this storm lost in the devil's cold custard suicide guide.
Waking up in a coma, in a world where white collides with the rage of suicide.
(( Trapped in a snowy blizzard))
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
My eyes captures the most beautiful moments:
The drops after tonight's cold breath
Brown leaves on moist soil
A coal-black sky with a majestic moon that
makes shadows dancing with excitement and mystery
Heralding thus the coming of cold and
long winter that is in store
with snow covered landscape resembling
Caring angels that the people of the whole world
Embrace with their luminous wings!
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014