Best Snowsuits Poems
gravitating together,
children - puffy fat in snowsuits - grasp
one another's mittened hands,
in-line unison,
their fall backwards into a soft ridge of snow
kid-laughter dances on the bending wind of cold
saturated tones of silliness
freefall play
repeated in fresh drifts with puckish twists
newfound layers of warmth
with ruddy, winter-worn complexions
an untroubled time
in the bruised abundance of snow
etched by imprints
winter's candy floss to children
life-loving voices that torch the chilling air
with joy
before heartbreak is definable
before bindings shape their toil
Poem composed February 20, 2022
Gearing up to what should be magical
Special winter to be a first of firsts
Brand spanking new at the grand-parent thing
Marshmallow snowsuits, sleighs and Santa Claus
First fluffy snowflakes falling from above
The Christmas tree lit up with shiny balls
Starring our nine-month old baby darling
Picturing with glee the sheer confusion
Crazy folk coaxing him to be wreckless
Bows, ribbons and coloured flashy paper
A few minutes of this and he’ll get bored
To make him magnificently happy
He just wants a cardboard box and cookie
Our Christmases will never be the same
Knowing next year he’ll be more into it
Now we just drool at all the photo ops !
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted for contest MY WINTER sponsored by VIV WIGLEY - November 17, 2017 - RANKED 5TH
Conflicted, dressed like a Santa Claus, Ed ponders the magical delight of Christmas time. Is it only for Christians, or can it be for him too? He likes this time of year, people are nice.
Bethlehem, Wisemen, Prince of Peace born in a manger, a virgin mother, familiar story told. Sitting in this serene park, admiring the crystalline snowflakes, and the diamond-like cycles of ice.
Ed feels like he is in the middle of a slice of heaven himself, it seems mystical and surreal. Dazzling, replenishing, vital. He watches two snowflakes float gently down, near a bench, he calls "mine".
Kindness, joyfulness, humanitarians, and faerie pixie dust would not make this park any more ethereal. All for one and one for all, always more believable at Christmas time than any other, time.
It is Santa Claus! A child yells. Two children dressed in fat snowsuits with hoods are running toward Ed. He is off work, but their merriment is not going to be thwarted by him on this magical night.
They run up and one plops right square on his lap. The other one does also, they scoot for each other. Sorry, their mother says. I could not stop them. It is perfect, he tells her, better than all right.
Ed welcomed these two little giggly rosy-faced cherubs enthusiastically, as if they were wise men. A star in the east, he thought, as he realized which direction he was facing, it deserved an Amen.
There was a melodious, peacefulness here tonight, a humbleness, on this beautiful wintery slope. Two angels, sent tonight to sit on his lap and giggle, to bring God, and the Holy Spirit, and hope.
Ed reveled in the mystical, magical united feeling he had with the young family with the giggling girls, A night he had planned to do something horrible to himself, but now thanks to their curls,
Realized that God had sent two angels to him, tonight, to remind him that he was loved by the Son. He did not have to be a Christian to realize that he had a mission, and he was enough, won is one.
Life is a mere dream
A fleeting shadow that fades
with time; awaken!
Seniors Style
'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry:
The punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.
A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.
Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath
The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candles' magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.
Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Ten puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"
Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.
Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).
A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.
We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social-security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight p.m. stroke.
And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds,
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
Soon you'll be with us; we wish you the best.
(Anon.)
It was supposed to be
A simple snowshoe expedition
Nothing glamorous or too exciting
But the day started out magnificent
Gloriously sunny and mild
Ideal for newbies and amateurs
It felt like a girl guide outing
Average age was ten
The trail was awesome
Breathtaking on either side
Snow covered bushes as far as you could see
Glistening sprinkling of fairy dust
And here we were single file
A line up of colored tuques and snowsuits
Getting acquainted with our snowshoes
Making our imprints with every step
What a surprise awaiting around the corner
A huge bonfire
Who would have guessed
Roasting wieners on a branch
Best lunch we ever had
A most magical marvelous memory
When all was done and said
Nothing left but light fluffy snowflakes
Caressing the last few remaining embers
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped
Wintry weather creeps down with passing days,
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
Many of the larger critters are sadly trapped,
For they have not adjusted to our urban ways
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped.
Tall, spindly pines are in thin snowsuits wrapped
In the wind a snow-laden limb melodically sways
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
Native brown bears, fat and lazy, seem zapped
As they search for a safe place while winter splays
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped.
Before the snow can melt, it is once again lapped
Piling up high, thwarting mountain hiking forays
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
For years the mountain trails have been mapped
It’s possible to enjoy those Christmas Eve sleighs
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
Written October 29, 2022
I stood on a wheat-grassed hill,
It's crest a overpass.
Pine rows below overgrown.
Forming into forest behind.
My childhood grounds.
Three boys, friends in time
Winter of "78"
When clouds dropped heavy
Deep covering, white cold
Draging sleds, overstuffed
In snowsuits.
The boys used this hill
With joyous lust
And loud laghter.
Slicing with metal runners
Above depths of storms.
A ramp.
Formed snow tight.
Near bottoms incline.
Shot there pleasure upwards
Twards a haze of gray,
In the quick, gravity's glee
Bodies held tight, gut waiting
For ramps flight.
Later that spring
A newspaper tucked
Under my arm
Told of a woman,a body.
Beaten, burnt
Left in the fall.
We stood, three boys looking.
Polices tap streamers,
And vehicle tracts.
Seeing black Reminisce
On white grass shoots.
We could smell decay
Were the ramp use to be.
Three boys, guilty faces
Scilently reminiscing joyouse lust
On the back of violated dead
Over and over to the haze of gray.
Life kept the body and heavy.
Burdend by snow-pleasure.
( had trouble with this one, comments I would greatly need, thanks Johnathon.)
A walk in the winter
How I missed this
Evergreens with light fresh snow laced on all the branches
pine needles fall
Feel that blustery wind kiss
Arctic enchantment
There is nothing else like this
The wind stands all your hair on end
Snow will surly come soon
Wondering when it will end
There is a smell in the air
Cold is coming
I smile as I hear the crunch of snow with each step
The sun shines brightly
Yet it feels galaxies away
With each breath, a cloud of cold escapes
New England cold
An experience within itself
The sun sets before dinner
We are learning to embrace it all
Get up earlier for the sunrise
In case you miss the sun fall
Discipline in a frozen fortress
This is the season where growth lies
As I turned to go inside
I glanced back to see
The sunset on Winter Solstice
Snowflakes fly
Snowflakes swirl all around me
Today's snow-white wonders
Tomorrow snowmen come into town
Snow angels in snowsuits
Everywhere...look around
Hot cocoa with whip cream
Day or night
Close your eyes
We skip past the best parts sometimes
Sometimes its what we miss most
These memories
Now, these tales of the cold
Is all that we have when our last winter is told
w I n d
swinging heavy with flakes
winter's underbelly chilling fingers and toes
on a Kyiv hill
in wounded wisps of snow
two small girls in boxy blue snowsuits
share the plastic toboggan
their push downward, a blur of swoosh
delirious clarity through the rattle of a confining cage
shell-twisted
history's rupture
training their thoughts past the gnawing void
where houses once stood
past boundaries where bricks and rubble end
and something else begins
sleighing outside of what blasts the city
two young girls on a sled that flips in an unexpected
direction
falling accepted, detours accepted
lopsided displacement
childhood that wishes to outlast the falling
familiar to those with crushed ribs
like broken umbrella wings
the fallout
from a despot's bare-bones grin
frozen solid like a glacier slipping itself into place
where every face is full of things unseen
Poem composed December 1/2022
Mistleaneous
Children waiting, contemplating;
tree lightings; reindeer sightings;
decorations; toy donations;
food galore; help feed the poor;
evergreen; Nativity scene;
cookies baking; baby's waking;
Church at midnight; candles bright;
presents wrapped; wallet's tapped!
Lights out; Santa's about;
each door is locked; no chimney's blocked;
parents sleeping; no peeping;
early morn; Christ is born;
kittens mewing; coffee's brewing;
wind's roaring; Dad's still snoring;
bags of paper; toddlers caper;
long parade; breakfast is made;
boxes tossed; batteries lost;
crayons broken; kind words spoken;
happy faces; sled races;
mistletoes; ice cold nose;
stay inside; snowsuits dried;
dinner's ready; bring old Teddy!
Heaping plate; no one is late;
dishes cleaned; windows steamed;
tummies aching; picture-taking;
T.V. show; fire's low;
kids in beds (sleepyheads);
Christmas cheer? The best this year!
Winter is Here
Winter has come! (The season for fun.)
Sing with cheer to those near:
“Bring out the boots and tuques,
Parkas and scarves, mitts and snowsuits,
And long underwear,
And other paraphernalia of gear.
Winter is here!”
Snowflakes appear, falling out of the sky,
Thicker by the minute, blotting out the light.
Slowly they fall, softly they allay,
Covering the ground in a white duvet.
Snow angels are made where children play,
And snow people smile with roundabout shapes.
Snowballs are flung at each other in glee,
While pets bark and chase anything moving.
From atop the hill, children’s screams debut
Amid flailing arms in air of frosty blue,
“Get out of the way, we’re coming through!”
As the hill’s bottom comes into view.
Spring and winter are wrestling with March
One day it is seventy-two and almost balmy
By that evening we are in danger of getting frostbite
For two days we are running around in shorts.
The third day has us bundling into our snowsuits.
We need our de-icer the minute we leave it in our garage
Buds on lilac trees freeze before they can open
Spring and winter flip flop back and forth, flexing muscles
We do not dare plant anything until May.
April is almost as iffy as March.
We are pawns in this climatic game of chess.
Inaccurately predicting their next moves
Winter rhapsody, the snowflakes ascending slowly,.
Reaching the rooftops and houses.
Winter rhapsody, pedestrians in their winter clothes,
Warm caps snowsuits ,coats and boots,
Winter rhapsody, a horse drawn sleigh riding through the pioneer village,
You could hear the jingle bells.
Winter rhapsody the athletically dressed skiers zooming down the hill,
Toboggans and sleds, parents and children delight.
Winter rhapsody, a walk through the deep snow,
The air fresh and clean,
Winter rhapsody,,building a snowman called Frosty,
Making snow angels in the fresh snow
Winter rhapsody, snow forts and snowball fights,
There are many winter activities.
Winter rhapsody,, the resorts where the parents and children,
Live their dreams and appear in elegant fashions.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz.
Lips puffy
like kids in snowsuits
Cellular layers of passion
Dramatic curves
like red apples
But soft
Moveable
Sensory organ
pulling me near
small parachutes of matter
Smooth corners on the track of NASCAR racing
Telltale signals of attraction
gravitational skin pull
that sends me spinning
all the same
Poem Composed: April 2020
it will be twenty-nine degrees tonight
where are my snowsuits and mittens?
tearing off my outerwear now.
wanting to strip down to my knickers
high of 81 at three this afternoon
football cheers and band playing
screaming girls, handsome silent players
someone claims they saw a snowflake
was it a leaf? or a mere fabrication?
a mini spaceship? unclear but it fits in well
with the harvest moon and the witch cackles
Halloween – demonic or delightful?
October contrasts