Long Snowsuits Poems
Long Snowsuits Poems. Below are the most popular long Snowsuits by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Snowsuits poems by poem length and keyword.
Christmas snow began falling in earnest
Before the children awoke
And many were up by five
Squeals and delight filled homes
as they noted the fast snow from their
picture windows,
Presents took a backseat as nature
provided them with the promise of
wet snowsuits, pink cheeks, and
a slushy wet playground
A sled! Kurt yelled. And there was a
mad dash around the tree to see if there were others
Nothing like snow, Mommy said to Daddy
after she had fastened them into their snowsuits
and helped them find their scarves and mittens.
They watched them trudge through the sticky stuff
uphill toward the best mountain in the valley
The one right behind their house
Hot cocoa? Daddy guessed.
Mommy said not yet, lingering under the mistletoe.
Moments like this did not come along often
when your children are ten, eight and six.
Best Christmas memory ever
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
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
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.
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.
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
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.)
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