Long Naturewinter Poems

Long Naturewinter Poems. Below are the most popular long Naturewinter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Naturewinter poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Ravishing

A chill wind bites coyly at exposed necks,
not yet draped in tourniquets of wool.
A wrapping of white, buries ribbons of asphalt.
The ways fills with metallic horsepower.
Goblets of slush like spittle fall, splat,
upon once virginal snowfields.
The rape of Winter had begun.

Rutting like rabid beasts in heat,
 the roadways lay revealed before the power of the storm.
Cumulous clouds belch from grills of chrome.
As Winter like the Sabine Women, weapon in hand,
pummels the oncoming horde with icicles.
Power falls from an angry, cloud-filled, sky 
weighty and white, Winter defends herself.

The surge of day brings forth an endless tide of travelers;
trampling her breast, ravaging, the once pristine vista;
shredding the thin veil of purity, only the Goddess brings;
laying waste, in mounds of mud like filth, The Mother.
She curls inward. Her indrawn breath freezes gears
grinding, screeching, shrieking the earth succumbs.
In snow like ash she lays vanquished.


Premium Member Winter Woods

The winter wood are stark and empty
Open for all to see_deep
Deep into the soul
Undergrowth devoid of green_no blossoms seen
Wonderful time to explore for can't be taken by surprise

There is something about the winter woods that appeals_
Appeals to the human eye
It calls come tramp deep_discover about life

There are squirrel nests hidden high(in summer)
Along with misteltoe_now seen

One can see the squirrels play intelligent they are
Not eating the misteloe

Oh! how the winter woods stark and naked stand
Wanting to tell all that they understand

Come winter says come sit upon a rock, stump or knoll
Wait, watch, listen, learn, 
As you go along in life, winter woods draws
Draws from its soul to mature the very being of the young

Premium Member First Hike of the Year

The snow has gone, melted away,
The air is fresh and sweet.
Bundle up, it's still a cold day
And off, our friends to meet.

Shaking off the winter blues,
It's time for a nature hike.
To visit and catch up with the news
Shared with friends we like.

We're out of shape and we start out slow.
It's supposed to be fun, after all.
So follow the creek, a trail we know,
That leads us up to the Falls.

Cameras are out and clicking away
As the water cascades down.
This time of year it's a powerful spray
With such a roaring sound.

In winter the water rushes on
So powerful, we're filled with delight.
By summer the same creek is almost gone.
Not nearly as an inspiring sight.

So the first walk of the new year
We'll start out nice and slow
But to each other we'll make it clear
The next one will be a 'real hike' you know.
Form: Rhyme

Winter Storm Haikus

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
© Deb Radke  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Haiku

Cornered In a Colorless World...

the steam from my winded breath 
hits the cool air
and lingers among lifeless trees 
left black and bare 
like a group of hunters, winter has crept
through the lands
the snowy crystals cover me like the
dry desert sands
 
these winter flakes land on the earth 
and seem to perfectly hit
like jigsaw pieces that know 
right where to fit 
I sit still trying to become one with
the wasteland of white
as autumn has once again forfeited
its seasonal fight
 
a tree falls in the woods and people wonder 
does it make a sound?
but I can tell you that dying trees have final words 
as they hit the ground
the colorless kaleidoscope I'm looking through
takes over the view of my soul
as winter has now come down like a forgotten ghost 
from the north pole
Form: Rhyme


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