Snow Rhyme Poems

Raggedy Army

As morning bathes in spring sunshine
A raggedy army stands in line.
Unkempt and ragtag, oddly sized,
Unarranged, disorganised.
Red, a splash among the grey
A new parade at...

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There is happy ado on the old farmstead as Yuletide draws nigh!
Wondrous things to savor as gales blow and snow begins to fly!
The tempest rages...

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I reached a hand 
Into the snow
The chilly ice
Once vibrant glow 

It's Winter's wish
A painful spree
The absent warmth 
Of no degree

Although I try
To stay alive...

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heaven too is a domain 
Hiranyagarbha, the cosmic egg
though bliss falls like light rain
for its pleasure we beg

dance of polarities 
manifests bliss magnetism 
renunciation and...

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It's been such a purrrrfect day.
it's fun to play.
I love sugarplum wishes.
to try to catch fishes. 
violet visions.
hard to make decisions,
play with the dog's tail,
or...

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Everything was ready for Christmas Day.
New toys were wrapped for the children to play.
We had all decorated the Christmas Tree.
Gifts in pretty paper were placed...

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      Mary ate a great big ham
        her gills turned white as snow

...

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Did Robert Browning say it best when he
wrote, “winter takes the old ones”? Possibly.
Bronchitis, pthisis, whooping cough, T.B. –
they ran amock in 1863.

I trust it’s...

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Sitting by the window and reflecting, on one bitter cold day,
The sky cloudy, the weather report predicted snow, 
The temperature outside 10 degrees, a little...

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tired from crawling
no desire to walk - bless me with wings to fly

in the midst of melancholic melodies of rain
through monotonous tones of charcoal clouds
take...

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I'll play your songs then play some more
Until I see you at my door
I'll ask if you would please come in
Then do something I know...

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Driving down the winding road. 
Stopping for a toad. 
Some sand is wet and heavy. 
The beach is pretty much free. 
Unless you want to...

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Its breaking....
Under sea.
Underneath,
I lost all feeling,
Do fish not feel
the rod piercing?

Sometimes
I was too
Vulnerable
breakable
fragile
young
small
tiny,
me.

I'm getting tired
I'm too weary
to surface.

Resilience,
is not a word
but a death
sentence
of irony plates
I...

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after The Raven by  Edgar Allan Poe

The mist fell over the lake like a grey blanket.
Only the sound similar to a ranket.
The water still...

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When not out clubbing
hey-ho the merry oh
at night with the Inuit
I suspect by intuit
an intrepid Inuk named Nanook
a-hunting walrus he would go
with his trusty harpoon
traipsing...

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