Best Snow Clad Poems
When it left the Arctic it was as a wild angry wind
that stormed its way across the ice bound Arctic ocean.
Blowing the snow clad icebergs and whipping up the ocean.
As it crossed Alaska and into Canada it had gentled
now it played games with leaves and softly kissed flowers.
Gaily it soared over the Rockies and tugged goats beards
causing them to shake their heads and stamp their feet.
In Playful mood it swept on hugging the coast awhile
then veering inland, it travels the plains and grows in strength
turning into a raging tornado causing havoc as it passes.
Moving ever southward it basks in now warm sunshine
and skips over the gulf of Mexico filling yachts sails.
Deep down in South America it turns into a wild fury that
uproots trees snapping them in half like matchsticks,
Then onward once more dancing past the Falkland islands.
Its destiny is now in sight and with triumphant roar
it rushes on over the Antarctic ocean and slides up
the icy barrier then screams its way across the tundra
yet slowly it loses its power and as it reaches the incline
this moody wind fades away until with final breath it dies.
Alluring elegance of Simla, the queen of hills,
Morning pleasant breeze, at night gives chills !
Snow clad mountains, silvery charming shine,
Tall Deodar trees , dense forest , also few Pine,
Aromatic flowers garnish nature's platter, vividly grow,
Rivers run smooth , at times exhibit a turbulent flow !
Soulful scenic marvel, must artistry come alive,
No artist or poet here can ever fail to thrive,
Green valley on one side, hilly serpentine road,
As summer sun peaks, it is my heavenly abode !
Written on 13/6/14
Contest- Hills are alive with poetry
Sponsor- Scott thirty seven
* Simla is the capital of state Himachal Pradesh ( Devbhumi Himachal meaning thereby Land of Gods ) in India.
Ranked 5th
Now for Andrea's contest- let's get technical
Awarded HM
The moon so close it was touchable,
framed mid the snow clad ancient trees.
written 11/21/2014
contest: Frozen in Crystalline
sponsor: Andrea
syllables 9/8
I have seen you flash by
Amidst thick green foliage and swaying pines
Like a distant silver dream
On receding skyline
But was never satisfied
For a close encounter I craved
I did then go up
The Space Needle in Seattle
Hoping to have a clear view
Of your snow-clad balding pate
That thought profound thoughts
Against mortal blues of the empty sky
But, alas, you remained
Elusive to sight
Hiding behind shifting clouds
Yesterday, I drove over a hundred miles
Climbed my way to Sunrise Point
Hoping for a close tete-a-tete
You played truant again
I saw a blank
Of nothingness, void
A grey screen of clouds and mist
As snow-flakes flew around
The board before me read
You were somewhere there
Amidst mighty peaks
Right before my unseeing eyes
Doesn't matter Rainier
You are there, I know for sure
Like the Himalayan peaks
I haven't seen
And yet am charmed by their beauty
On calendars, picture-cards
Inherent philosophy
Their height and grandeur speak
Better luck next time
Rainier, you are a teacher
I have now seen
Lofty nothingness, void
Against which I have all the peaks
Of the world that speak
Of Truth that belongs not to things
But to an evanescent dream
That the Lord, whoever He is
Conjures up for stupid minds
aquamarine horizon with crimson hue,
unfolds a sublime picture of dawn,
drowns the senses in tender lilac dreams,
sways away to a mythical land unknown.
spring birds merrily cooing songs serenade,
saffron imagination dawns on dreamy eyes
swirling all vibrant colours of rainbow in palette,
fragrant petite graceful flowers wake us up,
chartreuse waterfalls falls soft on coral rocks,
dazzling moon takes the centre spot,
mighty ocean poses as the mirror for her.
from tiniest seashells to icy mountain-peaks,
indomitable sand-dunes to snow-clad evergreens...
beautiful world!
lavender yearning for magic fills my passionate heart.
Beauty, an undefinable definition,
exists around us....in
beautiful moments, beautiful scenerios,
beautiful emotions...
to be unravelled to the beholder
who marvels at the exquisite bounty of the miraculous!
January 29, 2023
Writing Challenge - "B" word Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
glory of morning sun on forest of trees,
the twitter of birds from many nests unseen,
what devilish mind, cruel hands would fell these?
clear stream lilting through, reflect moon’s silver sheen,
caressing pebbled shores, nurturing the seeds,
what evil creature pollutes with waste unclean?
many orchards of fruits and grains for our needs,
a host of colours with flowers, humming bees,
what heartless soul would drop a bomb to cause bleeds?
in azure blue skies fly a flock of white geese,
over snow clad tops of Himalayan peaks,
what greedy species would shoot and kill with ease?
mother nature groans as she weeps, shakes and creaks,
can we stop, listen? to her children she speaks!
written 7/ March/2021
While mother earth gently moans poetry contest
D.W.Rodgers sponsored
Terza Rima Sonnet
aba,bcb,cdc,ded, ee rhyme sequence
11 syllable each line
Midnight boom town streets have this allure
imagining an uncanny venture
eavesdrop veil surround but dark as coal
how I love my after hours stroll
Secret worlds unfold their impish plot
mesmerised entanglement a tiered whatnot
black crush velvet sky we must extol
how I love my after hours stroll
Gilt fantasies that float across each lane way
fluorescent gremlin from some ghostly parking bay
gust on salt ice pier might buttonhole
how I love my after hours stroll
Snow clad mall whistler gaffe prone
while wandering the ink hue urban zone
a chapter lift and snatch from begging bowl
how I love my after hours stroll
Traffic signals stellar stoic stance
heartbeat of nocturnal moonlight dance
frozen digit signage reeks of twinkling North Pole
how I love my after hours stroll
during cold season
coated with a snow blanket
winter ski spins fantasy
as far as eyes view
a vista of snow-clad slopes
a ritzy summer resort
Checked by HMS.COM - 5/7/7 - 5/7/7
Written: January 08, 2023
Winter Sedoka Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Just like old times there's her familiar features
Peeking shyly up from the snow-clad earth,
Hair adorned with circlet of dainty flowers.
Beautiful Springtime.
Love Letter to God from the Virgin Mary. (You could sing this one, tune is "What am I living for...? sung by Clyde McPhadder, way back when.)
What are we fighting for?
Look at the sparkling sea,
So beautiful..
What are we fighting for?
Look at the snow-clad Alps,
So pristine,
What are we fighting for?
Look at the desert dawn,
So golden warm,
What are we fighting for?
Look at the valleys and lakes,
So serene and calm.
What are we fighting for?
Look at the tiny ant,
So perfectly small,
What are we fighting for?
Look at the human form,
So miraculous,
What are we fighting for?
Look at the clouds,
So fluff and moist,
What are we fighting for?
Look at the Planet Earth,
So bountiful,
What are we fighting for?
Look at the blazing stars,
So heavenly,
What are we fighting for?
Look at the Universe,
So infinitely large,
What are we fighting for?
Mary's Love letter to God,
What are we fighting for?
What are we fighting for?
This world is a bewitching illusion
The spring, the fragrant flowers, the chirping birds
The waterfalls, the sky, the valleys, the clouds
Are nothing real but delusion.
The gigantic snow clad mountains and fathomless seas
Are what is called optical illusion
Our eyes are so designed to see things in nothingness
The moon, the sun, the stars we see are nothing
Beauty, colors, lights and shade are nothing
Peacocks, swans, cypress trees and nightingale are nothing
The feats of our fabulous inventions are all fake
The skyscrapers, trains, cars, airplanes and ships are nothing
The super Markets filled with luxury goods are of no avail
The motorways, the subways, airports and runways are nothing
Dreams, wishes, desires, ambitions, hopes and aspirations
Success, achievements, satisfaction and fulfillment
Are only heartwarming assertions
Youth, beauty, seductiveness and glamour are nothing
The love binding you and me together is a mirage
Kindness, sympathy and benevolence are nothing
Why do we have unending lust for this world?
Beauty, elegance and allurement of this world is nothing
Winters end
When cold breeze loses its charm,
and weather regains back its warmth,
Snow clad mountains that start to melt,
when sun is at its zenith on the belt,
Winters are onto an end !
Heavy quilts lift their veil to bare,
Chilled faces begin to show a flare,
Out of hibernation appears the whole world,
Sun shines bright and the clouds hurled,
Winters are onto an end !!
Written Jan 20th, 2015
By Dr. Upma A. Sharma
Bundled in a horse-drawn sleigh
warm and snug on Thanksgiving Day
the children restless, we went on our way
as the shedding forest began to sway
and the gusts of wind set astray
the vestiges of autumn's display
that unveiled the cabins along the bay
Past weathered barns fraught with snow
and over covered bridges would we go
through the misty river's chill
turning toward the cider mill
its churning paddles frozen still
past the farmsteads and withered fields
the ghosts of bounty that harvest yields
caught in a breeze of burning leaves
and all the reveries the season weaves
We arrived on main street after sundown
gliding through the charming town
toward the chiming white church steeple
past the storefronts curbed with people
in the wake of the gingerbread float
at the stern of the Pilgrim's boat
behind fairy tales and candy lands
as the revelers sang with clapping hands
to the music of the marching bands
From the celebration would we emerge
from the flowery, spangled surge
to behold a wondrous sight
as geese took flight into the night
over the sea where moonlight sought
to quell the hues that twilight wrought
Frosted lamp posts lit our course
and into a trot sprang our horse
his hooves and harness jingling bells
as if to the tunes of sweet noels
while from the shops whose cozy glow
projected windows on the snow
there flashed the goods someone will leave
under a tree late Christmas Eve
the toys and clothes wrapped in bows
and all the gifts that a stocking stows
Now past chimney smoke and picket fences
nostalgic aspects that stir the senses
where old Victorian silhouettes are found
and gestures of goodwill abound
toward the sound of waves we wound
as our lanterns flickered on the ground
the atmosphere around us festive
while within full and restive
or nestled by the fireplace
or with their heads bowed in grace
folks enjoyed a simple pace
while outside others strolled about
amid the maize and wreaths throughout
absorbed in a twinkling universe
of colors snow-clad and diverse
To our delight there soon arose
a savory ambience for the nose
adrift from tables set with care
with a redolence that met the air
as we hailed the last of passersby
and climbed the road into a sky
whose stars adorned the snowy limbs
to a house on the coast, flowing with hymns
THE COLOUR OF SILENCE IS WHITE
The whiteness of the milk
Soothes the baby’s crying
The unblemished paper of a letter
Not written, says snothing
White lilies at funerals
Invite no one to speak
Clouded bubbles at the Titanic’s plunge
Hide no sounds below
Arctic emptiness of ice
Reaches out to no creature
Snow clad landscape echoes
Nothing from the woods
......................................................................
Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
Our winter weather is highly unpredictable
Jack frost often paints frosty ferns on our windows, but we seldom get any snow
Occasionally we get a flurry but it rarely stays on the ground
However, I vividly recall the winter of 2013
It was the first time I purchased thermal underwear!
Gale force winds blew snow into blinding blizzard conditions
Snow fell in such copious amounts it took everyone by surprise
It was the heaviest snowfall recorded in fifty years!
Huge snowdrifts towered up to ten feet in places and they caused chaos
Roads were totally impassable and whole villages were cut off
Little lambs and sheep had no chance and thousands perished
Shop shelves were soon emptied as no supplies could get through
Overhead power lines got damaged and people were without electricity
Yet everyone pulled together to help out those in need
The only ones that were happy were the school kids
All the schools were closed and the children could have fun outdoors
Colossal snowmen appeared in many gardens
Tea trays were used as sledges and toboggans on the snow clad hills
The snow is long gone… but the memories will always remain
My Winter Contest
Sponsored by Viv Wigley
11-26-17