My buddy will always be
like poetry.
But sadly,
the poetry itself caused suddenly
an emotional rift.
And I thought
she will be standing firmly
at her stand
and I would remain feeling
stupidly upper hand and silently drift.
But she
proved herself to be the better one
just to make me realise graciously
a real buddy bond does not ever
break or shift
and showed me thawing my heart
with the sweet surprise of a
buddy caring gift.
(26.03.2025)
snow is melting and the forest is thawing
and birds are singing a symphony as I walk a snowy path
where snow and withered leaves mingle
and the clouds sail across the sky
I come to a clearing and stand
spinning still in the decay of winter and threads of spring
I see the primrose snowdrops growing
like nature's spring kisses
and the buds of blue bells almost ready
soon, there will be a sea of blue in the clearing
here and there are grass shoots
like tiny bayonet blades pointed to the sun
and among the undergrowth is the green of ferns unfurling
on a fallen tree tender moss is growing
and a brown squirrel is watching me
our eyes meet in silent peace as he eats snow and new moss
it is one of those magic moments to keep within
soon, this winter ravaged clearing
will come alive with green and wildflowers
for the sun is pouring through the trees
___________________________
February 17, 2023
Poetry/Free Verse/Thawing Forest Clearing
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1525-054-17
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Your Option Again
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 02/27/2023
Ice shrouds over the hunched houses
where blood and flesh huddle and wait.
An ice ravaged
face rears up from an invisible earth
its fangs blackened by a tooth-aching light,
more flesh piercing incisors
dagger down from the clamped
and sunken roofs.
What wreckage there is, is buried
hidden from sight, but it is not
a clean landscape. Not a landscape at all
but a telltale footprint,
a restructuring of destruction.
What was once seen as a town
is gone. Not forever (drama makes
actors of us all), but we talk now
in a past tense language of 'back then'
and not of any postcard view of tomorrow -
not yet.
worm moon shines through rain
slushy snowmelt on vast plains
winter in full drain
By David Kavanagh
unfriendly brisk morn
before melted snowman prowls
whilst watching the dog
~
unfriendly brisk morn
melted snowman melts falls
drip dropping melt so
~
frizz brisk temperature
melting waters drains off curb
because of the snow
12/16/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2021©
hanging from the eaves
long dripping fangs of winter
icicles melting
Date written: 02/13/2021
"It is flowing," murmurs the river.
"It is freezing," scrunches the frost.
I'm watching it thawing.
All Afterglow
by Michael R. Burch
Something remarkable, perhaps ...
the color of her eyes ... though I forget
the color of her eyes ... perhaps her hair
the way it blew about ... I do not know
just what it was about her that has kept
her thought lodged deep in mine ... unmelted snow
that lasted till July would be less rare,
clasped in some frozen cavern where the wind
sculpts bright grotesqueries, ignoring springs’
and summers’ higher laws ... there thawing slow
and strange by strange degrees, one tick beyond
the freezing point which keeps all things the same
... till what remains is fragile and unlike
the world above, where melted snows and rains
form rivulets that, inundate with sun,
evaporate, and in life’s cyclic stream
remake the world again ... I do not know
that we can be remade—all afterglow.
[Note: “inundate with snow” is not a typo.]
The mill wheel would not turn until the spring,
the ice, springtime, thawing, now showing bling.
The mill, now in motion, mill pond, full spate!
Hark, the grinders grind flour for bread, can't wait.
Fickle the weather, the water freezes,
hard frost, the mill and pond, motion ceases!
What grain was ground, sold, fresh bread, cakes baking!
Rumour has it, the mill, now old, shaking.
Whispers ran through the town from door to door,
their mill, it's state, condition, bad, yes poor!
The bank was made aware and did declare,
with help, it would contribute, help repair.
All helped, a vast sum did accrue, delight!
Work started twenty-four hours, day and night.
Ice melts revealing secrets, the wheel creaks.
Across pond, two otters swam, leaving streaks.
The wheel was stopped, for one whole year, no bread.
To the delight of all, the otters bred.
Soon left, the wheel, their home, fixed, mill started!
Fesh ground flour to all homes was carted!
One, nine, sixteen v3.0 Poetry Contest - Sponsored by Viv Wigley
6/25/18
Well I have finally made a conscious decision to change me
To leave the game, let it be
Time to recover from this struggle from the pain,
The path is clear already lain.
My feet frozen stiff scared to move on,
But these ghost have got to be gone.
To allow me to heal
Once again to live and feel.
Bringing back the woman I was before
My heart still bruised and sore.
IM scared to be alone to walk thru life solo
But down this path I must follow
To turn back is to seek the broken existence
Continue forward strengthen my persistence.
Allow this life to gain some meaning
For me to be hopeful to start dreaming
Return to my inner self before the fall
Needing help from anyone who cares to answer if I call.
Just listen let me breathe
A shoulder an ear that's all I'll need.
Stop the panic shoving it deep
Silently battling, my pride im trying to keep
Onward I go thawing my feet
I've come to far to give in to defeat
Passion sweeps my body,
As I feel you drawing near;
And though I may not see you,
I can always sense you’re here;
I feel your hands engulf me,
Your embrace breaks all resolve;
The chains that keep me prisoner,
Are beginning to dissolve;
I’ve tried to fight these feelings,
But the battle now is lost;
The ice that held me captive,
Is beginning to defrost…
Thawing Out
Hooks
holding
icy gloves
frosted hats and
empty overcoats
hang by tightly shut doors
winters adventurers drift
searching for percolated warmth
beckoning aromas guiding them
gathering greetings, thawing each other.
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