Short Gelid Poems

GELID DAY

Gloomy gelid day, 
Though snowflakes seems to be white-
Napping sun like owl....

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silvery skies gaze

gelid air swims through warm breaths

quiet vapor soars
...

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a frosty icecap
left to her own devices
in the gelid blue of the subzero cave
added ambiance to the stalagmites...

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fragile limbs somber
wedded in dank gelid air
once graced with life
bared to face wintry hardness
a stalwart tree stands proudly...

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summer

humid, hot

swimming, camping, gardening

seashore, breeze, mountains, sleet

skiing, cuddling, baking

gelid, cold

winter...

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Jewel

this dusky Jewel does of my heart
a mares nest make, sweet mercenary pomps
and fine gelid limbs these eyes ensnared, a frigid waste her love for me....

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Frost crisped, the lawn remained
beneath the frozen dew.
Water dripped to ice as gutters drained.
The cardinal bids the day adieu;
the winter storm has left a gelid view....

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^*^
Niveous pristine
Sculpted stiff mount crystalline
Scorching,perspiring !

Gelid mound earth thaw
Deity's paragon - " BLUE "
Enticing milieu ?

^*^

===jun-jun villanueva===
july 08,2012...

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View
atop
a mountain –
ageless, timeless –
seductive mistress with frigid fingers 
crisp, cool, caressing, chilling, corrupting.
Winter’s beauty,
stealing each
gelid
breath.


12/31/2020...

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Winter never looks cloudy and gloomy
when I recall spring meadows
as green as Anna's happy eyes;
days could have no sun in gelid January,
nights could have no tremulous stars,
and yet her gazes imparted many joys....

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Gelid winter winds
are creating drifts of snow
The perfect time for sledding

Trying to keep warm
I bundled up in woolens
And... played for hours in the cold



January 13, 2023
Winter Sedoka Contest
Sponsored by Charlie Messina...

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Bright yellow badges proclaimed their faith
Paraded like nameless cattle
Counted and cooped as poultry
Numb and gelid they lay
Only thing alive
Was A desire
For a smooth
Kiss of
Death

Written On:04/24/2017
Contest:'Form N' by Broken Wings...

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Hunger, gelid, frigid, no nighty,
In a long coldly winter night,
Needy for a so big woodpile 
In dark, solo I had to chop
Details are good chop --
sticks chum pal up --
marks  choc-ice !!!
Choppy choosy !! 
Wood not woo !
Cook not coo !
Warming,
fire up,  
heat,
fill,
by...

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If your love were a flame
I'd allow it to blaze through me
and singe the edges of my heart
with it's sweltering fierceness

but your admiration
is a thick-headed icicle
shaped to weather any firestorm
ignited by adoring hands

how gelid it is
to be loved by a man
frozen with incompetence,
too cool to burn...

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sublime eyes etching
on mystic magic
sans moaning macula
crushing canorous coda
lips lurching labium
made from megalomania

skin sans sore
like delicate draws
nocturnal nature's call

body melting mist
of gelid gift
choice callous clipped

all fiddling features:
Luna's fostering figure.
     19:12:21:05:20...

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This red skin, whipped by the harshest wintry wind,
feels colder than the snow of Iceland; 
wry thoughts on a gelid night 
won't relieve my plight!
January
flee,
don't disagree!
Running and panting
to avoid an avalanche crumbling,
I take giant steps to avert danger... 
while this red skin burns deeper than my anger!...

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Ice on my igloo
  roads frosted over
Cursed, cutting cadaverous cold 
  deathly chill from Calais to Dover

Thought it was nippy
  but my fingers are numb
Arctic algidity all around
  winds whistle, envelop my town

Why must we endure
  gelid, glacial Siberian air
Is warmth only comprehended
  when to harrowing cold it's compared...

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he skimmed this gelid air
on a gossamer breath
ascending then descending 
adrift like my wishes

perhaps he was lost
like i in my unspoken thoughts
just wanting to be anywhere
other than where he should be

i closed my eyes
imagining
soaring
on his wings
aloft on dreams
as i spiraled
into the arms
of your love
momentarily
content...

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Blooming since temperate days of Fall
fragrant red roses were frozen
wearing sugar shawls of snow
gelid crimson petals
beneath a blanket
of winter white
slumbering 
draped in
frost
Laced
flowers
shrouded in
crystalline ice
swaddled the roses
to preserve the beauty
until frost melted to dew
warm in the renaissance season
when nature gently awakens Spring
...

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In the darkest hour,
Of the coldest night
When the Heavens deign
To open wide

And e’en Angels
Take startled flight
From eerie sounds
And silvered light

The Cosmos converses 
In Cosmic verses and is
Softly scriptured, the melodies
The stanzas…the bars

In the gelid Winter’s night…
And would’st one lend a careful ear, 
Perhaps the Gods… would grant him hear
…The whispers of the stars…...

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The Manzanita clacks in 
gelid breezes
like the clap of clacking bones. 

Reddish painted branches 
reach their grey, bent shadows 
on stone from

hulking, brewing
drifting welkins.

Peeling, crackled, weathered 
bark 

grasp,  grind and intertwine
gnarled fingers as they rasp and clonk.

Silhouetted by the yawning flame  
dipping low, 

dances the macabre branches, 
on a stage glacial white with 
winter snow....

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In dusk's umbral mist
phantoms hover 
across August's white embers,
humming their pale lilac chant
through bare trees
chiming with fledgling icicles.

Fields of vestal amethyst
splay past frozen fences
and sepia skeletons
of summer grass.

I listen
to diaphanous lyrics 
of a mauve moon
from my gelid porch,
throwing coffee
from my hot cup
to watch it freeze
in mid air
and fall like rhinestones
on the waiting ground....

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The gelid wind is a knife, ice to bone
As Demeter decries Persephone's moan
I too shed a tear, crystalline nature
In the pallid winter of my discontent.

Downy flakes fly in my woods, this glacier
melts slowly, apart from everyone ashore
I die a little more each day I bore
Holes, In this winter of my discontent.

No ode to my urn shall abide tragedy
Created in frolic architecture, majesty
Denied grace in art, I cry a little more
In the frigid winter of my discontent....

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Nobel autumn.


Rustling winds expose your frame,
To cold, damp and dreaded name.
Wind scars slash at dying summer,
Rain re-echo’s the little drummer.
Middle aged gnarled to aching spur,
Boorish zephyr chills a dreaded allure.

 Stooped, naked, shamed to despair,
You gather your strength. Send a flare.
Of gold, ochre, saffron flames of red,
A last stand, against the gelid dread.   
As Cu Chulainn fought to the bitter end,
You flicker gleam my autumn friend. 



S.de B© 2012....

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Maybe when  the ways
fade hopelessly on
a cold night,
I chase the north breeze
peeking in my window
It has the gelid of 
morn dew in Autumn
and the tales of 
voyages, whispering to me,
Relishing in the chirp
Of a nightingale and cicadas
-I gaze up at the night sky,
near to the shivering moon,
I chase the Saptarishi,
seeking to the Pole star-
I lead to the melodic shore,
far away from the wailing cities
the ocean recited me a poem,
the boulders croon along with her...

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