Short Windowpanes Poems
Short Windowpanes Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Windowpanes by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Windowpanes by length and keyword.
frosty windowpanes
icy wind whistles through cracks -
breathy fog rises
Copyright, 5-28-2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
lavender rain
fingers windowpanes.
the old clock
forgets directions,
letting autumn storms
wander through
its hands
anticipation
the wait finally over
stars are in my eyes
magnificent blooms
in halls of expectancy
moonlit windowpanes
sing my nightingale
your love song at the sunset
music in the night
Written: January 18, 2026, for a contest by Brian Strand
************
frost-lace
on windowpanes,
a fragile filigree
fragrance of forgotten winters—
silence
The frost falls softly like thinning silver hair, a blanket
Upon fallen leaves, dead grass, windowpanes, bare tree limbs shake
As does silver haired woman, ready to shed earth's wrinkled house
Tree branches bow low
in winter's deep snows
Roads now white meadows
that glisten and glow
Pressed-face windowpanes
leave behind traces of steam
Horses' carriage bells jingle
Take me away in a dream
Creamy hot chocolate
bathes windowpanes
Two Clydesdales trot smartly
down cobblestone lanes
Through the trees, moon rises
pools of light, reflection's prayer
Rest now, reminders
~ of an era unscared
The wind…
That through
Barren limbs sighs
Soulful sound
That seeps round
Loose windowpanes
And sides
The silent sound
From anguished eye
The heart
That cries out “why?!”
Tis the soul-torn
Sound of tears
We hear…
Sound made
…when Angels cry…
Festival lights and sights
A whirl of fancy and flight
Bells and stars and candy canes
Frosted patterns on windowpanes
Tinsel and glitter all a-glow
Mantels covered with mistletoe
Amidst all the splendor, let us remember
Those without homes or fireplace embers
Only a finger length away
Exogenous earth rains today,
In appellation's of water
I pause to write them in laughter
On windowpanes of gray,
Where the touch of life
Becomes another strife,
A melancholy of caged birds.
fingermael = the length of one finger
Autumn always seems to sing a mournful melody
as its voice carries softly upon the chilled wind.
It's a melancholy song for souls in wistful notes
while withered leaves tumble, whirling aground.
They dance a rhythmic ballet like prima ballerinas
as I watch them through frosted windowpanes.
Moth wings thunder on windowpanes.
The distance between a screech owl
and your dreaming ear - exactly one heart-beat.
You can disappear under fingertips
that love you.
A woman is a troublesome thing.
Every drop of rain
speaks a language of aftershocks.
Blood eventually weighs you down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
flour dusts her apron
sunlight spills through windowpanes—
soft hands knead the dough
steam curls from the pot
her laughter stirs the broth's warmth—
scent of thyme and home
knife halts mid-paring,
her gaze drifts to fading light—
stillness fills the room
Rain storms, ice crystals and freezing snow
Thick breath vapor as they say hello
Wool sweaters, furry coats and there they go
Footprints melting in the pillowy snow
Cigar's smoke stuck on chilled windowpanes
Grey, white and all shades of frames
Cherry-red cheecks and warm palms
Blankets, wood stove and sweet psalms
Form:
When the morning light,squeaks through the vanes;
of wooden casements and windowpanes.
When eyes glued shut,from night time fears,
are opened wanly to mornings clear.
That’s when in the corners of my mind,
thoughts of you rush forth to find;
Soft smiles, open arms and a warm heart,
You know I’ve loved you from the start.
The panelled walls of cedar wood, pencil thin red aroma
Reflect the firelight burning light, warming coals
Black windowpanes bar the cold and wind to a blacker outside.
Pictures in the flames rise, to an occasion or a dream
But in retrospect so strange, as the chimney above grows cool
And snowflakes melt on the black dusty dead scraps of wood.
Naked, skeletal, the forest shivers.
Bark thickening in the wily wind.
Unadorned the trees slumber on.
Their limbs seeming to fight off the
onslaught of nightmarish Winter.
Twig tips claw avengingly at the sky
and rake torn nails across windowpanes.
Slumber soothes not the dreamer
who waits in a frenzy of anguish
for the kind covering of snow.
The furniture needs a dusting
The floors mopped and swept
The bathroom needs a scrubbing
The evening meal to prep
Dirty dishes line the counter
The laundry's in a heap
Pet hair on the cushions
The windowpanes are streaked
In such disarray, I'm overwhelmed
I really should get hopping
But, tomorrow IS another day
I think I'll just go shopping!
inside with my friend
she takes orders at other tables
before coming back to me
outside silhouettes burnt
against orange skies
neon lights in windowpanes
when the day fades
a friendship of years
passing conversations
the day contained in sentences
she stands near
moments of silence
near the front door
I wait for words emblazoned
setting fire to our world
Dying pray,
Dreams fray,
Hunger gauges false depth.
Closed eyes,
Tear dries,
Fear calls for a chilling death.
Full moon,
Blossoming soon,
Divine boon of new dreams
Sandy dune,
Rippling tune
In dying green, dying streams
Fallen glory,
Older story,
Weaving threads, yet nothing new
Drops of rain
On windowpanes,
Wishful mind; sparkling dew.
here comes spring d
o
w
n
p
o
u
r
e y e s trained on the windowpanes ~
tapping of raind
r
o
p
s
Verse settled down without fanfare
Three ladies made of roses bright,
Greeted me by showering care
Which on first day, was pure delight.
And moving on after Autumn blew
I spilled letters down through the lane.
Now it’s my time to say thank you,
Flowers sent on your windowpanes!
Happy Valentine’s to Linda, Anne-Lise,
And Skat
A Special Valentine's Note Address
to Linda (aka PD) Anne Lise A. And I –SKAT
from Manny Paras
Ticket booth requests destination
manually I type your name,
a mathematical equation
couldn't convince me to abstain,
Catching despair in my reflection
streetlights flounce, dreary windowpanes
tracking raindrops with affection,
pining for your embrace, once again
Traveling express train to heaven
station platforms, fleeting by
mimicking photographs in my mind,
camera rolls, flicker the sky
Wailing winds rattle windowpanes,
with sounds of moans and clanking chains.
Your whole world begins to shudder,
and your heart soon starts to flutter;
as a violent vibration:
shakes your house to its foundation.
Caught in your peripheral sight,
a tornado's twisting the night,
and debris swirling in the dark
as the twister carves out its mark.
And gazing at the face of Death:
you gasp for air, struggling for breath.
Footfalls to the floor,
the bed unlatching still sleeping bones.
The duvet smells of stale dreams.
Make a fist of the mind,
November is not for the weak.
Cold windowpanes knuckle
a tap tapping chill.
10 minutes away
coffee finally.
Imagine the sky, don't look at it yet,
the sun has yet to break
some surface ice above it.
Its going to be sunny but cold,
no other planet in the solar system
can do this.
I5 minute to touch down
and a few giant steps.