Rhyme Snow Poems | Examples
These Rhyme Snow poems are examples of Snow poems about Rhyme. These are the best examples of Snow Rhyme poems written by international poets.
By Poet.... "Haven hide me safe and sound. Far away from this cruel world. Give me peace of mind and body."
The story of my haven,
as I ran from the huge raven.
Was I living in a cave-in?
Life's pictures have been hung with a cloth pin.
The huge raven represents life,
the cave-in represents midlife.
Where did life go?
Time had no flow,
no more glow.
All the time I was low,
I just wanted to live and to grow.
Hiding in my safe haven covered with snow,
I now watch TV and a new game show.
they were outside the whole day, my daughter and Glow
Glow is her dog who delighted in romping around in the snow
My daughter made two snowmen in spite of the dog’s antics
Tomorrow it is going to be sixty-seven, so she will be frantic
Because snow people do not fare well
When a day is sunny as a Christmas bell
they will be a pile of water in a few hours, I knew
But today they had a blast in the snow, these two
She looked prettier than your average child
with full curly hair and big brown eyes
she had an unassuming smile, was a tad bit wild
confident like her mother, no surprise
she challenged me to a snowball fight
It did not feel fair, did not feel right
You might be sorry, I said to this darling girl
Come on! She said, Aren’t you my Aunt Pearl?
Relenting, I decided to do a little snowball fight play
Quickly creating a fancy snowball, I gave it a frosty hurl
Sixteen relatives with snowball buckets joined the fray
I was very sorry I had ever said yes to this darling girl
Norman’s snowman decided to hit the road
he was disgusted by his current frosty abode
I am leaving tonight at eight, he told Norm and me.
He said he was heading toward Livestock, Tennessee
I heard later that he melted along the way
His parts were scraped off the sixty-seven highway
We had warned him not to go, begged him to stay
Let that be a lesson to you Norm said to his new snowwoman, Kay
Snowman was invited to a brand-new spa
Who wants to go? He said, not me, not me
He was dragged in there by his cousin Maw
And promptly found a goblet that was quite comfy
It once held martinis, the spa owner said
It was designed by a snowman named Devil Day
You can get cozy and relax, as if it is your bed
Snowman liked it so much, he was there the next day
New Hampshire winters
late October arrival
Snow, snow, snow, snow
raw survival
More and more, just piled on
grand for winter sports
if you are a ‘winter sport’…
Come mid-April, Boston's alive with flowers
but up there in New Hampshire
no such revival
~ snow gone viral
The Granite State still sharp and tall,
beyond our old, fractured stone wall.
The maple leaves we used to chase,
have now left an empty, quiet space.
The winter froze the lonely lake,
with memories I cannot break.
We laced our skates in freezing air,
but no one else is waiting there.
The April sun now thaws the woods,
of changing, distant neighborhoods.
The muddy boots and melting snow,
are ghosts of things from long ago.
I love snow storms when they make their rounds,
The winds they whistle as the snow twirls around.
A bite on my cheeks from my frozen tears,
The numbness in my toes, it's frostbite I fear.
The air is so crisp it smells so clean,
The path I followed from the moon it gleams.
I can see my little candle burning up ahead,
It's warming the window above my bed.
I'm so cold I can't wait to get home,
Warm up by the fireplace made of stone.
Drink my hot cocoa then lull off to sleep,
By morning I'm certain the snow will be deep.
A love was born in Newfoundland
For a wonderful winter thrill.
As a brothers and sisters band
We would trek to our favorite hill.
With toboggan in tow behind
And a forward lean in the wind,
We braved the elements unkind
To launch freezing runs for the win!
Our thrill was called Suicide Hill
Where the locals who dared would go.
With the chance of boredom nil
We lined up and flew through the snow.
Our cheeks red as roses in bloom
And hands frozen curled 'round the rope
Time and again, we'd all make room
And board the toboggan once more.
Everything was turning green.
The trees had started budding.
Tulips just now breaking ground,
New life through topsoil flooding.
Then it happened, light at first,
Flurries drifting down.
Then heavier, blowing sideways,
Covering the streets of town.
The wind so fierce near blew me down.
The snow was at my ankles.
It's Spring gol-durn-it, what is this!
This insult really rankles.
It was warm with singing birds,
And budding trees and flowers.
We shouldn't have this blizzard now.
We should have gentle showers.
Then one thing came to my mind,
Pro-Vin-Chee-Ul E-Ner-Sha !
The sign up on the highway says,
Welcome To Alberta.
Seasons come and season go
With regularity there's ebb and flow
In tropical climes it's most about how much sunlight passes by
Summers steamy with lots of rain, so called winter time is dry
For six months now we've acclimatised, each morning, temps of twenty three degrees
It's late autumn, morning temp suddenly, seventeen, don a jumper feels like were gonna freeze
So called winter, a few real cold mornings temp is down to five, we're in a fix
We groan a bit, but soon it's warm, temp's now raised to twenty six
Raised in heavy frost wind and sometimes snow
So sensitive now to cold I wont return temp's too often way too low
This is a sight that is rarely seen
witch and her familiar sledding on Halloween
the snow had been heavy, then turned to ice
They went up and down the snow hill not once, but twice
We should be flying, but the sky is so cold!
Black Kit her familiar gave a hiss that was gold
Maybe we will trick-or-treat and stay on the ground.
They slid down the snow hill twice more, their sled flipping around.
Down the rusty staircase, moving rather slow
I’m heading to the Scarborough beach
It’s all white above, so it is below
Snow keeps falling, piling up inch by inch
Poster with boat trips fell under the tree
Today’s weather is not fit for cruises
Either fishermen won’t go out to sea
Certainly they’ve got credible excuses
Muddy waters splash on the snow-white shore
A couple of dog walkers stroll along, apparently
Like they always do, like they did before
Seagulls sound sad, but the dogs are happy.
This morning feels bit chilly
It’s about time to go
It doesn’t seem too silly
I’m used to wind and snow
I shuffle down the high street
I’m crossing the old square
It’s slippery, I watch my feet
Don’t want to stumble there
The tiles are laid unevenly
It might be too abrupt
If I fall down, conceivably
Won’t bother to get up
For a decade now self-appointed meterologists
have been screaming ‘climate change’ and ‘global warming’
Yesterday perusing a professional journal
I bookmarked a piece titled, “New Ice Age Forming”
Is it time for the world’s Greta Thunbergs, their shouts to change
from ‘Heat Wave’ to “Snow on the Range”