Hibernates Poems | Examples

Serpentine Narcissus

My mind hibernates in the void of cavernous complexity,
wakes up in the sensual seasons of mystique living.
The wild psyche forms a sleek and sly unique entity,
as with whisper of intent hiss, dances the reptilian feeling. 

Within the deep cold layers many ancient secrets hide,
the sinuous slither of the silent senses can’t find.
Coiled in still shadows of the verdant world outside,
the echo of hostile footsteps is left to fade behind.       

   A prisoner under the disposable skin of own pedigree,               
with an animated grace of fear in introvert isolation,
I see all the frightened faces flee from me,
as I trace my tortuous path in the web of ardent adulation. 

In self-adoration, as a symbol of style steeped in serenity, 
I see in me a serpentine Narcissus lonely lurk.
Metamorphosed stealthily from an obsessive entity,
it holds the threads of life, waits insulated in the dark.

Winter

Winter is when snowflakes are falling
Winter is when snowstorms come calling

Winter is when the world becomes white
Winter is warm fireplaces at night

Winter is snowangels and snowmen
Winter can turn us into slow men

Winter's a cup of hot chocolate
And a lot of within-the-house-dates

Winter is life inside a snow globe
Sweaters and mittens and woollen robes

Winter is when nature hibernates
Cardinals sing and we buy ice skates

In winter, the heat's never enough
But we need winter to make us tough.

Progression

light begins to fade 
leaves turn red, yellow, and gold 
autumn hibernates

Autumn dust

riot of colour
autumn leaves adorn the ground ~
there’s beauty in death
life within trees hibernates
resurrection is promised

First Day of Spring

*Image of Beautiful Spring by APK.

First Day of Spring

Meadow
larks mesmerize
these longer days, as those
hibernates wake to furry hops
near verdancy, neath warmth of rays or rains,
newness absorbs a pass-over,
facing nature's depth midst
flower-patterned
meadow.

2023 January 15
Pen a Rictameter, Hopes of springs return
~~M. L. Kiser

*HMS.

Winter Solstice

as days fade to night
the season blights to winter
dearth of light brings haggard chills

landscape bedraggled
shriveled to black then bleached white
cries ice tears then hibernates

Night, the Dark Groom

Bloom of floral life halts at utter gloom
Lives sleep, nevertheless lives come alive
At the break of night, the day of the groom

From chirp to chirp, and we bid bye to blue
Fellows to abode, drones as well to hives
The white bride deserts the awful black groom

New light is born but scarce to fill a room
Old light hibernates in nature's archive
At the break of night, the day of the groom

Lunar;astral lights too faint to illume
And the groom is gifted a faulty bride
At the break of night, the day of the groom

For distorted sight, we tend to assume
What lies where and whatever to decide
The white bride deserts the awful black groom

While baleful lives wear sinister perfumes
Others in bed expect the good old light
Rejuvenation, perfection of sight
At the break of light, departure of gloom

Little Bear Hibernates In Peace

Little Bear parents argued about where he would hibernate this year.
He wished they would be nice to each other, this was not dear.
Since their separation, they had turned mean and sour with each other.
Seen by his cousins, aunts, uncles, and his old great grandmother.

She told his parents Little Bear's feelings were tender and sad.
His mom did not understand, was the same for his angry young dad.
Little Bear climbed up in a chair and snoozed as if it was winter break.
His grandmother said, “I am keeping him here for his emotional sake.”

For the first time his parents began to open their hearts a little bit.
They realized how much they were hurting Little Bear with each fit.
They let him snooze away his winter break in grandma’s chair.
For underneath all of their ridiculous fighting, they really did care.

- An Ordinary November Day -

November calls for my attention
                     autumn is drawing to final 
                     A trembling aspen naked
                     the leaves are autumn's spoils
                     Cool air hits the cheek
                     the clear flames fade
                     Hibernates
                     gray shroud
                     sad








06.11.2022
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved


A November Nonet
Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
(howmanysyllables.com)
5rd place in the contest

Quiescent

hedgehog hibernates
snuggled under leaf blanket
snowflakes gently fall

5,7,5 as per HMS

''Q'' Contest, NEW ONLY Poetry Contest

sponsored by Constance La France

09/29/21

Try Again

Love hibernates
Then congregates
Over a lovely gospel
In the middle of Autumn
The angels have not fallen
They rise in praise like the morning sun

Seasons of Life

Changing seasons mimic the flow of life.
Four variations of atmosphere.
All under one hemisphere.
Joy they give to all wildlife.

Spring softly transfers the mind.
While summer's hot sun wakes up the earth.
Fall's cool and refreshing colors give birth.
Then winter's frost hibernates the kind.

First steps location is not yours to navigate.
But as life pulls you thru it, choices appear.
In ones journey, swell tides of good and bad reappear.
Let love and hope lock out hopeless at the front gate.

Until the Last Drop

Within sequestered silent tears’, my heart hibernates,
Solitudes that slumber amongst the venomous voids…
Love is snared amidst echoes that resonate in repose,
The walls of confusion crumble upon ravenous ruins.

A qabalistic quarantine quenching quiet landscapes,
Where alienation adorns the converging covertness…
Surreptitiousness strains seclude, darkened subterfuge,
For the wasteland withdraws within the wilderness.

A deluge of desolation dominates the demons den,
For what is left in my last lugubrious tender tears…
Is the love which divides within distorted dissolution,
As bleakness becomes, I am with you until the last drop.


...stay safe everyone & God bless...




March.01.2020
Quarantine Poems
Sponsored by: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver

Placed 3'rd...Thank You

A Seed Not Planted

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A Seed Not Planted
Written: by Miracle Man
2-4-2020

Somewhere tucked away in each mind is a word left unspoken,
an action not taken, a seed that wasn’t planted; 
A word that someone needed to hear at that moment.

We have let a time pass that possibly won’t return, 
and no harvest is produced without a planting of seed.

A planted seed often hibernates within a person,
until, at some later date the Holy Spirit does it’s work.
While man plants, and man may water, God brings the harvest.

1 Corinthians 3:8 KJV
8 Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: and every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labour.

Our Fitting Fall

A naked bleakness dressed with sparkling stars,
Dance sweetly taffaria fairies wands,
Auburn burnish Terra foundation scars,
Strewn light rods frock poise for their eager bonds.

Savor sparked light, plated of painted blends,
Generous crops hatched for harvesters pluck,
Heap hued leaves for dives of little friends,
Grand to behold as worn eyes are awed struck.

As the sinking filters down to deaths floor,
Achromatic crystals shroud their being,
Neath browns fertile soil rebirth of its core,
Hibernates for pardoned Spring, their freeing.

Limelight a year; birth, life, dying and death,
Mirror fleeting truth and our fragile breath.


*taffaria; Fairies' wings are made of a special material called taffaria. This ultra-strong, silky and transparent material is clear at first glance but has all 7 colors of the rainbow in it. Red, purple, yellow, pink, blue, green, and orange.


2019 November 04


RhymeZone
PS Grammar Checker
Howmanysyllables;
14 lines x 10 syllables - 140 syllables total

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