Best Windchill Poems
an hour before docking
it was ice cold and freezing
as the vessel like scissors
cut clean through the swell
and the ship’s horn then sounded
and woke those still sleeping
startling the standing
and seagulls as well
and the door opened outwards
on a windswept and dark deck
as a lighthouse and headland
appeared to our right
while the radar was turning
mixing mist with the morning
as we looked over railings
still wet from the night
and the lifeboat above us
secured by strong davits
dripped north sea in droplets
from somewhere on high
and the noise of the engines
grew loud and then quiet
as the spindrift and windchill
danced wild with the sky
and the lights and the silos
of europoort holland
shone blurred with bright colours
as such paintings do
and we stood there transfixed
with our backs towards england
while dawn beckoned others
to stand and stare too.
When winter's rain and windchill reigns
I plant some pansies to cheer
Then cold winds howl, trees do tremble
But in this spot, gold appears
These pansies, delicate and fair
Bloom yellow with delight
Their soft petals bold and smooth
Such a lovely sight
The rain dances, and wind howls
The pansies bend and twirl
As if both are here forever
A graceful waltz, in winter whirl
Thirty three below zero with windchill
freezes exposed flesh so very quickly.
Scarves wrapped round and round make winter mummies
covered head to toe against the bitter cold.
Winsome Wendy walked in winter's white
Wondering when her window box wisteria would grow.
Wintry wisps followed by winter's windstorm
Wiped out her wonderful window work.
Winsome Wendy wanted to whine
"Without the wisteria, could winter be fine"?
While still walking, Wendy happened upon Woeful Will
Who worked without reward.
Winsome Wendy withstood the wisecracks that
Woeful Will had witlessly worded to her.
Wendy's withdrawal, spurned the wishy-washy Will
Which was witnessed by Watchful Ward.
Winsome Wendy went to the windbreak
Which Watchful Ward had wrought.
Wincing in the wind of winter's weight
Watchful Ward worded a simple warning to Wendy...
"Watch out for the windchill".
the frigid air snaked across
my skin and left it tingling
with frostiness
the windchill scoffed at me
with it's hautiness as the air
swirled around me
I seek shelter and refuge
from the intensely
frigid elements
THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF WINTER, IS A SIGN,
OF WHAT OLD MAN WINTER, HAS IN MIND.
OLD MAN WINTER IS UNBELIEVABLY KEEN,
CHECK OUT HIS HISTORY TO SEE WHAT I MEAN.
HE SETS US UP TO THINK ALL IS WELL.
THEN UNLEASHES A BLIZZARD FROM HELL.
WE SHOVEL THE SNOW AND CLEAR THE STREETS.
AFTER A DAY HE DUMPS THREE MORE FEET.
HE WILL MAKE IT SNOW FOR A VERY WHITE CHRISTMAS.
IN HIS OWN WORDS "YOU DON'T WANT TO MISS THIS"
HE DELIVERS JOY FOR THE SNOWBOARDER TYPE,
BUT AT 12,000 FEET IT'S A FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE.
BACK IN THE CITY IT'S FREEZING COLD,
QUITE THE HAZARD, FOR THE WEAK AND THE OLD.
JUST OFF THE LAKE , IT WAS FORTY BELOW.
EFFECTS OF THE WINDCHILL OR SO WE ARE TOLD.
DOWN FROM THE NORTH AND ACROSS THE PLAINS,
WHITEOUT CONDITIONS ARE PURELY INSANE.
OLD MAN WINTER LOVES FREEZING RAIN.
IT'S HIS WAY OF INFLICTING PAIN.
FROM TIME TO TIME WE JUST DON'T KNOW,
WHAT IS MEANT BY COLD WET SNOW.
JUST FOR KICKS HE LIKES TO TAKE DOWN TREES,
BY FREEZING RAIN AND ASSERTING A BREEZE.
NEVER, NEVER, CALL OLD MAN WINTER A *****.
YOU'LL FIND YOURSELF, OFF THE ROAD IN A DITCH.
As I walk along the footpath
The ice cracks under my sole
The windchill cools the ears
And reddens up my nose.
The Winter Sun looks warm
But passers by just moan
As I enjoy the freshness
And view of shining snow.
The winter solstice approaches
Means Christmas lights to come
Against the constant darkness
And smiling Christmas fun.
Coats and gloves and beanies
Keep the body warm
Prolific defence available
Protects from winter storms.
Many regret December
And it's weather that is sent
But life's just a different colour
In the winter of content.
brace for five inches
frozen forecast repeats “snow”
winter storm coming
“12 to 24”
Weather Channel jumps for joy
winter storm warning!
the blizzard arrives
eighteen hours of snowfall
twenty-one inches
morning reveals drifts
waiting for my shovel's edge
to wreck their beauty
sore, aching muscles
attest to snow-free walkways
shovel stored; wine is poured
breathing is painful
windchill at 30 below
following the storm
brilliant sunshine
crystal drifts of sparkling snow
adorn my city
when it rained, it came it sheets
I was drenched from head to feet
no shelter close to help affection
feelings drown without protection
next comes windchill down to bone
howling, swirling, on it groans
in my mind I now avow
this is the end, right here and now
but on and on and on it goes
day and night I do not doze
ever watchful and alert
my will now I shall assert
without nourishment it shall die
relationships ebb with swollen lies
it will die a lonely death
sighing with its very last breath
Thought I was blushed
Thought
Sensitive comment
Sensitive comment
Sensitive man
Hot flash
Cool
Revolutions repeat
All
Day
Pm late:
Mirror gaze
Severe raccoon eyes
Wind flash burn
Surface returns
01/13/12
7:34pm
© All Rights Reserved
The signs of spring are in the air
the days begin to lengthen
morning arrives earlier each day
the sun sets later in evening
the mood of people brighten
as they look forward to spring
it was a long cold winter
with temperatures below zero
the windchill and frostbite
made some hibernate
but coming signs of spring
with ice melting on roads
dripping of ice off roof tops
spots of grass beginning to show
along houses and sidewalks
brings a lighter step to all
who were down with winter blues.
My ankles are grinning
We love the feel of the sun
We have not had her for a month
The last two weeks schools were closed
The windchill was twenty degrees below zero
Today it is sixty-seven degrees and sunny
Global warming? Of course not. Don’t be silly!
S-orrow will surely end,
U-ntil it's nowhere in sight;
S-adness of the shadow
A-ims to fade into the
N-ight.
E-ven though the windchill comes,
S-unshine will show up;
C-oal clouds will turn white,
A-s the cold raindrops stop.
L-onely twilight twenty-first of May fades,
A-n early beacon ascends;
N-o more tears will fall,
T-ill the sorrow
E-nds.
On those dark, winter evenings, when the frost tinged wind burns your skin with each weak sputtering breath, I find myself longing for a crisp walk along the shore.
Sand, not yet touched on this new day, another beginning for every version of myself.
Trudging down to the sea, like a breaking seal, one step at a time, the sand deteriorates its shell. Longing for companion, desperate, starved sharks circling dancing toes, sneaking up the rubber sealant and making a new home in nailbeds. I push through aching sand dollars.
Crystalized salt in worthy gashes across my chapped nose and lips when windchill drops below the cut. With fog my breath gets lost, careful, steady gasps for the cleanest air.
Another savory inhale leads to another chilling kiss from nature’s icy lips on the out.
And as if a gunshot went off, an overwhelming collective moan of siren wails pierce through the ice cube gelatin atmosphere. Stuck, frozen, upside-down dessert pie in the horizon, not a single movement throughout the cry.
Freedom awaits beyond moonrise- creamy egg yolk, breaking and falling for my consumption. Slow like honey, I reach for that feast but I am too far, just intoxicatingly close.
Underneath the abyss is beautifully raw and polarizing, golden fragmented reality. Silence is rare but this is it. Cool, shallow tidals filling me with waves, hushing the tinnitus. I try to stay past the shore but always find myself consumed and falling under, drowning.
“This is so beautiful,” bubbles through my sandstone tongue; coolant brained and crucifix fingered.
The end of the shore, the beginning of the sunset. A new sunrise within the oceans' backdoor. Gasping, falling under.
“I’m drowning, and It’s so beautiful.
I’m drowning and I can finally hear it.”
*A young man went out for a stroll in the snow
Into a remote patch of icy blue Adirondacks.
It's been a few moons since he was last seen.
They discovered his lithium car at the trailhead.
A white broom swept his footprints off the map.
They posted a vision of him sitting in the sunshine.
They're searching low and high for that cherub smile.
Prayers are swirling like glitter in a snow globe.
The ranger whispers about windchill and hope.
The forecaster says a fresh foot more of devilish snow.
They postponed the search until tomorrow.
They say a cardinal may chirp a psalm.
When souls wander into the beyond.
A young man went out for a stroll in the snow.