Best Snowball Poems
“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." ~ Anne Bradstreet
Winter’s quick wind slips shadows through my soul,
Risking dawn’s light, leaving a mournful glow.
Deprived winking stars, moon will still console,
Grasping night with promise of graceful flow.
Wintery breath clasps the silent snow’s fall,
Rescuing each flake with cool, frosty thanks.
Gasping at the dance, beauty not so small,
Braving the night, gentling even snowbanks.
Wintertime comes and goes, leaving light trails,
Glistening joys, falling from the night skies,
Racing to meet life with enticing tales,
Memories of sweet love that never dies.
Winter’s easy light glows into the night,
Moving souls to hear its legend so bright.
He blew in on a snowflake
One cold December Christmas week
His small dark eyes are deep
Inside his snowy little face
He is fast and furious
Chomping at the world
He is a bundle of joy
In the winter of my sorrow
snowball bush full bloom
heart of enchantment dusk fumes
as butterflies flit
green lawn of languor
and beauties lying in beds
in the mellow noon
white moon and scent orbs
attracting hued birds and bees
stopping hearts and feet
I'm watching the downfall of the nation I served
Leadership bought by the middle East has me unnerved
Our flag waving in glory still makes this old heart swell
But our chance of survival is that of a snowball in hell
Our pride's been replaced by government subsidized laws
Free homes, free phones, free care, we no longer fight for a cause
Dependent on government we can no longer be called man
Just jackasses and sheep, no longer part of the plan
The end of an era with a system that's beginning to smell
Our chance of rebuilding is that of a snowball in hell
The state of the union has working Americans irate
Too many dreams have been shattered since 2008
Financially destroyed by a man on a mission, pray tell
Our chance of achieving is that of a snowball in hell
“That one snowball” – Hit my butt, then my heart!
Down in the white famed plains of Western Kentucky in the 19th century, Alpha Omega Latham was born. Days after his father was shot on the porch, was the beginning of being, and the pass of a torch. Now that his father was gone and bereaved, his ma took the duties, after pa’s life was thieved. A boy now in school confused of his route, the chants “go west young man” were dawning some doubt about the feudal trail that rendered much clout. Humble his beginnings, picking cotton for a living, snowball earned his name, being the only white kid in the game. Just 8 years old, a drive that once ran cold was burning from his hands that were yearning, he decided to up and hop west to Burley. Idaho he headed, decision imbedded, the lure of the west, assured a new life to invest. Alpha Omega began again, and ended a chapter, his life was in spin. Now was his chance, of success in the west, opportunities gleamed, held tight to his chest. A poker man, many cards he swapped, to scrounge and buy half of a sporting shop. With a mere chunk of change, a last ditch effort, his puzzle pieces to arrange. Snowballs sports shop, came to fruition in time, from the train ride alone, with barely a dime, now land and wealth, the ladder he climbed. Owned hotels and houses, made his mark on the land, now standing on top, he created a brand. A beautiful family, the American dream, he lived it and proved it, while swimming upstream. Make your own luck, the idea that he stressed, sink or swim, was life in the west. As the depression was sweeping the country abroad, Alpha had summoned the lightning rod; providing help to his kin in Burley, he helped the community, even when surly. Was known to help any poor old soul, altruism was his ultimate goal. From a bitter ending, blossomed a graceful beginning, just because he lost one fight, didn’t prevent his winning. Twas the life of Alpha Omega, his ending was much brighter, a hero in the eyes of many, a true american fighter. Beginning now is a different page, to snowball his vision in a different age, on west my friend; be brave, not afraid, flourish each and every stage. For one bad ending, cannot cage the transcending, of the flower contending to fend off the sour, bursting out in Spring.
(iambic pentameter, verse)
What will I do without him
who used come to the door
and ask me to play with snowballs
In the sun?
Go out and play with
snowballs of my own?
No fun!
What will I do without him
who used to tap at the window
and bring me the dark sky
Shattered with dawn?
Close warm sheltered inside
Will I watch the night
Go on?
No! I'll run to the streets and the highways;
I'll shout to the closed-in ears;
into the wind that buries the sound of my voice
I'll whisper when footsteps come near
There's someone living
In here!
(A nod to Athol Fugard's "People Are Living There")
Polar Bear's Snowball in Hell
there's ten polar bears sitting on an iceberg
a few hundred years from now
their big brave eyes scared, resigned
conspicuously looking out at the horizon
proud once, now sad
the setting sun quickly vanishing, ominous
their lasting sun shine, darkening
their days numbered
with condemned walls closing in
the writing sad
coming to fruition
ice rotten
life is in the balance
teetering, hopelessly
the ten polar bear's noses sniff the air
like the once proud captain of the titanic
the dots connected
doom
reality sinking in, we're sinking
the iceberg keeps floating
ten hearts beating out of control
like the wayward passengers of the titanic
all around the rising sea
the iceberg, like a tomb, like the titanic
species of fish, seals, walruses, penguins
belly up on the surface
eyes looking straight up to the skies, dead
lips miming as if to ask why
the ten polar's bears heart pound harder
tears welling in their eyes
the iceberg quickly melting
the last clutches of their indigenous lands
now a snowball in hell
their kingdom gone
the gates to the other side creaking in
two million years or so of polar bear's evolution
wiped out, soon
giving way to man's ignorance
the effects of global warming
the Antarctica a once vast wonderland
for not
for the impending death of the ten polar bears
and a species
... die in vain
11/20/17
POLAR BEARS - Poetry Contest
The half-moon glints a squint seam of a lonely meager light upon the ground.
Night full of sounds as scent of flowers from the garden filled the air.
Reclined on an outdoor lounge chair sated in the cool whiff
of undisturbed peace; gazing upon the echo
evening tide enjoying a night of charm,
night of a mortal dream, the sky
clear, but for a few clouds
drifting slothful
away.
3/17/2018
Syllable count
18-16-14-12-10-8-6-4-2
Poetry Contest: A MELTING SNOWBALL
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
*
* * * Snowball Fight With a Snowman
*
Pooch looked up at the towering snowman
dressed in a peppermint scarf and a stovepipe black hat
and said,
"Lord I know you want a snow-fight, but
your sense of humor is getting a little carried away *
don’t you think! *
* as the snowman held a snowball the size of its head. ****
Stop the joking around I’m freezin
I'm ready,
Come on… *
Come on…
* T-h-r-o-w... it!
Just don’t let it hurt.”
o *
12/18/2016
* ***
o *** * o
******* ~
( *l* ) ~~
~~~~~~
( : ) * o
( : )
( ) *
Snowball made the entrance
Wow
Little new member to my household
Love me, Love you
Meet your new friend
Valentine
Just like you
So, let’s all be friends
You, me and family.
A Springtime Weather Forecast
A springtime weather forecast.
Snowfall, blizzard, whiteout!
Snow drifting so deep,
Warrants snowshoes,
Sunglasses.
Don't go
Blind!
____________________________________
Form:
snowball wishes
snowball wishes he grow up to be a snowman
before mother nature shortens his lifespan
come on kids roll me up tall
into three big snow balls
dress shades and hat so i don't catch a suntan
connie pachecho
1/10/17
Ravenous thoughts like moths eat ever larger holes in the fabric of my mind,
while floundering, evening's slow retreat into darkening dusk sighs
cold disparate release of the effete emotions I hide,
as in the ebon sheet of quilted evening shadow,
behind my conceit and feigned smile, I lie.
To all that I greet on life's broken path
I contrive sweet sentiment,
as I complete my own
deceit.
04/14/2018
Drip drop, splish splat, flip flop,
tick-tock, drops like clock,
chimes click away
as ice thaws
dribble
jots