Best Winter Poems
In riming realms
of crystal contemplations -
frozen water-vapor meditations
and chilled flutes
filled with zodiacal-light musings
of ancient cosmic dust
dancing in the arms of Sol..
windswept operatic reveries
rise and fall
as her stirring soprano
tickled by the chanting of icicle chimes
gathers momentum
in strengthening sprays
of frosted musical notes adrift in broken chords
she bestrides
a clouded steed colored mother-of-pearl
flowing with fury
within which beats a blustery heart
surging at jet stream speeds
on the clattering beat of hailstorm hooves
from streamer-skies of the northern 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 frostbite nip
that sinks its tingling teeth deep
sailing
a supernatural stage
amplifying—
her aerated soprano soars
in polar vortex arias
as an avalanche of glazed trinkets
—descendants of her fertile femininity
skydive
in shivering sixfold symmetry
falling
in fierce flights of fancy
as she cyclones on consecrated currents
with wild abandon
escalating
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 spark
luminous with lightning
she buries you in a blizzard
of opalescent mistletoe berries
and wanton whims.
I walk through the glistening virgin snow
That covers the sorrow of autumn’s death
Where I find on a bush a frozen rose
Its beauty held ageless in winter’s breath
How I long to touch those petals again
Those moist velvet lips that promise such bliss
Opened in passion whispering my name
As I drift in dreams of a breathless kiss
Oh! To pluck this rose from the winter snow
And hold it closely to my aching heart
And free it from that ice so bitter cold
That now my love keeps you and me apart
But if I were to pluck this winter rose
Would all its petals fall upon the snow?
I've never heard the sound of snow
nor dawning's oboes crooning light,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow
and chimings of the flurries grow
as alabastrine wings take flight.
I've never heard the sound of snow
when cello strings caress the bow
of morning at its burnished height,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow
a salmon cirrus cameo,
diaphanous and opalite.
I've never heard the sound of snow,
piano in the afterglow
of sunshine's brittle fahrenheit,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow
ebullient through the chorals' flow
across the operatic white.
I've never heard the sound of snow,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow.
lights weave through snowflakes
teasing and twirling about
distant stars dancing
a brilliant display
wearing only hand-me-downs
the moon steals the show
~FJ Thomas
01/01/2020
In the landscape
of melancholy,
where arctic
heartbeats linger,
I long for withered
willows to blossom
like speckled
diamond petals,
while your crystalline
silhouette strolls
through tangled tunnels
of my weathered mind.
And I question
the highest choir
orchestrating
ethereal anthems:
What if there’s no right key
to harmonize this
undying yearning?
What if love had a voice?
Would it be an
echo of melting snow—
thawing glacier hearts
to stream upon
silver lakes,
mirroring drifting
clouds of memories
that drizzle
rose-tinted flakes?
There, the crisp
air whispers
magical tales
chauffeured in
cashmere cadence.
But, like the golden
tendrils of
winter jasmine,
my fingers
stretch beyond
fogs of frozen rainbows,
sketching
sweet-scented dreams
across skies
in porcelain pigments,
as your voice
glimmers and
glows amidst
poetic pearls
resting on
your lyrical lips,
shifting through
colors of the
seasonal breeze,
serenading
symphonies
for soulmates.
So let me
undress the
wintry wisps of vanilla,
cloaking the
citrine threads
of sunrise in your eyes,
listening to
the song of the
wind that shrouds
our unsung sonatas
when we were undone.
For you and I,
we are like
jewels in the azure,
ruminating in rhymes,
quilted in a
secluded igloo,
as chickadees
of the night
chirp in sync
with the moon,
mimicking hymns
from the
hypnotic lyre of Orpheus,
to which Eurydice waltzed,
even the waning stars
would unravel
a sequined staircase
to the gardens
above the highest spheres.
For I would die
a million
deaths to
rewind and replay
the dulcet chorus
of this
immortal romance.
You entered my room
a long time ago
across many summers,
now when this winter looks
at the trees shedding the leaves
you are by the closed window
leaning on the cold wall
and I am by the fireplace,
your eyes on the cracking wood on fire
mine on the frosted window pane.
Have you ever wondered
why my voice doesn’t reach you,
the words crash on the wall
and fall silent, that’s why.
Have you ever wondered
why my warmth doesn’t touch you,
the feelings brush the window pane
and freeze inert, that’s why.
Have you ever wondered
why my eyes don’t look into yours,
the vision is stuck on barren trees outside
and waits for the spring, that’s why.
Have you ever wondered
why my hands can’t hold yours,
the reach is lost in distant time
and breaks separated, that’s why.
I have wondered
if I could break the cold wall
shatter the iced window pane
make the trees green again
would my voice rise from the dust
the warmth of my mind melt the ice
my eyes bring colors of spring in yours,
would the time stop
stop to create distance
and I could hold your hands again.
Posted : November 23, 2017.
I shiver tears.
My joie de vivre;
summer esprit’s lemon zest,
lilac flirts and coral whispers
have escaped me ~
grievous gray
now flows through my veins.
I shiver melancholia,
entombed with my winter blues
in the dark dreamless hollow
of my frowning igloo.
Draped in decor of dispirited drear
I wear a wistful woebegone fog,
an overcoat of overcast moods.
I weep wall to wall
in the listless light-less nights
alone with my lonely longings—
my psyche withers
like a frost-stunned leaf;
I shrivel
a little more each dull day.
I shiver sadness.
My colorless tears
cry out loud for color!
I yearn for watermelon sunsets
pink sands and tiki cocktails swirled
with swizzle stick glee.
I wish for rainbows to color
my lackluster laughter
and crave for fireworks to celebrate
in my mirthless eyes—
restless for Sol’s warm hands
to tenderly undress and caress me
and lay bare my soul
straitjacketed by winter blues.
How fast to wiles I fell my damask rose,
awake from slumber slept untold ages.
To gaze so deep in ocean eyes repose,
and print whispered prayer on mind's pages.
Your soul in gleaming shadow found complete,
a thirst no other want or wish contrived.
Nor cherry grown upon the branch so sweet,
without cold and dark of Winter survived.
What heart loved without a madness looming,
secure from injury sure to tarnish.
Unbroken, though lone in sadness' glooming,
and held away from love's fruited garnish.
How true the dove devoted in flight still,
that lasted in love, more than ever will.
thick blanket of snow
snuggling the flowerbeds
with a winter wrap
THE BLACK
SATIN HAT
SAT TIGHT
ON THE YOUNG MANS BALD
HEAD. HIS
EYES BLACK AS
NIGHT STARED INTO
NOTHINGNESS. IN
FRONT OF HIM
WERE 3
PATHS WHERE THE
CHILDREN HAD ROLLED
THREE BALLS OF SNOW MUCH EALIER THAT VERY DAY.
PATCHES OF GREEN GRASS
STUCK THROUGH PACKED
FREEZING SNOW.
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
NEW SNOWMAN.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.27.2014
Wintry white wisps wondrously whirl
Soft sparkling snowflakes silently swirl
Coolly carpeting countrysides carefully
Dazzling diamonds dancing delightfully
Submitted Contest forms A contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
28th December 2014
~ My favorite Thanksgiving memory was, quite simply, a walk at my grandparents house - I'll never forget how nature spoke to me that day about what is truly important, what I'm most thankful for. ~
The snowflakes cling so softly to my eyes
Each one a sparkling gem of frosted lace
Their fluttered flights like silver butterflies
Released by heaven in uncommon grace
To melt upon my lashes, warm, and trace
Their damp demise as rills upon my face
I wind my way thru swaying evergreen
That dip their limbs to bow a silent plea
Like Currier and Ives, they paint a scene
Of lofty grand cathedrals, soaring free
A vault of stars to crown each regal tree
While high above an owl questions me
I wonder if, like me, he haunts the night
Divining purpose deep within the wood
So grateful for the gifts within his sight
And all that heaven brings us that is good
In that, we forge a blessed brotherhood
Content to cherish living, as we should
Thanksgiving weaves the frigid winds at hand
To bring us both this winter wonderland.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Thanksgiving Memory" Poetry Contest, Regina Riddle, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Winter Wonderland" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Judge & Sponsor.
~ This is an "Urban Sonnet", a form created by Laura Loo, a poet here at Poetry Soup. ~
From out my window, I could see the creek
Its ice, a satin ribbon on the snow
Our winter holiday was just one week
Each day with skates down to the creek we'd go
Upon the birch trees, cardinals would rest
Beneath them lay the prints of hungry deer
For this was nature's turf and I, a guest,
Enjoyed the first few months of each new year
Today, upon a sandy beach I lie
With memories of Northeast winter days
It seems the years since then have just flashed by
But winter's wondrous song in my heart plays
Evoking thoughts of loves lost long ago
Now resting 'neath a shawl of virgin snow
"If you're really in love, appearances aren't important. The best house is the one you build in each other's hearts."
Jung Yu jin
Autumn's alliterations amplified an acoustic of death.
Stillness of internal instrumentals silenced my acapella.
Words like wildflowers withered in winter wickedness,
without voice or verse I vanished behind a visible veil.
I was like a lifeless crystallised burnt sienna leaf,
as bitter breaths froze my brittle soul's ink.
Fatigued fingertips trembled from numbness -
without a purpose upon a speechless stage.
Afraid of crisp crying rain, which fell like a refrain.
my summer eyes turned amaurotic.
Life resembled a blank music sheet,
among an abandoned piano covered in iced cobwebs.
In solitude my music remained unwritten,
as I slept in a shivery silent slumber - tone deaf,
finding fading apricity in stolen daylight.
Until a silvery silhouette appeared. - sparkling.
Placed my hands into her warm glove-like hands,
wrapped me in an emphatic scarf-like embrace.
Her rose gold lips echoed in Orphic tones,
reviving my somnolent mute muse.
Blessed with vibrations from her vision,
senses awoke to rhythms of her heavenly harmony -
strumming an enchanting lover's lullaby.
Were you a gift from an orchestra of operatic angels,
sent to place hymns of hallelujah deep into my heart?
As her mystical mystery began to unfold.
In union our lyrics amplified into a rhapsody of romance.
Vibrant tunes from her intimate strings composed a
seraphic serenade, as we drifted into a dream world.
Today,
as we dance under emerald velvet northern lights,
snowfall covers our paths like an ivory blanket.
Soft flakes, like pearls glisten under tinsel moonlight,
as we leave poetic footprints behind in soothing snow -
a chorus of constellations glow to the tempo of our glorious sonata.
December 25th- The Christmas Wedding
Head-to-head,
Surrounded by seasonal silver bells
Scarlet passionate pink poinsettias sit
Foliage scenery
Entwined by Christmas and Wedding bliss
Frosty winter weather warmed up by:
Rings of “I Do!”
The eyes of Eve hide underneath a white veil
Beautiful-
A bride walking down the misty mistletoe isle
Wondering why the majestic mustang moon sank without trace?
The aroma of pine trees idle into the death-defying fog
Fine firm decorated ribbons snug unopened gifts
Desperately-
Mistletoes wait above the tenable tint threshold
Kissing and Cheering
New Christmas Vows
In her hands, a beautiful bouquet
-Bridal flowers for the maids
Forsaken by dark dusky dullness wedding cloud
Flustering fragrance thicken the chestnut cold air
Ornaments endured dreary tears
Despising the drapes of fog
That covers the newlywed winter show
Harmony withdrew from that winter wonderland
A white gown, not meant to be
Christmas crushed by her greed
The unkind erratic earth exchanged her own silent vows
In a horrifying hoary haze
A heavy foggy breeze dropped in like debris,
Blowing her tiara dreams away
On this very exact Christmas Day
:-)
11-22-13