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.
Steel angle-iron dates back ninety years,
the tower rises by a mirrored lake,
up top a ramp, like ski jumps, does appear,
sloping down to the shore without a break.
The lake is frozen flat by winter’s grip,
in some spots thick enough to drive a car,
and young people all around make the trip,
with tourists from hotels that are not far.
They climb the steps built on the ramp’s right side,
with blankets, sleds, toboggans old and new,
down the ramp in a rush the people slide,
joyous cries adding to the happy views.
For tens of yards across the ice they skid,
jump back in line to fly once more like kids.
Midwinter - means
transparent ice walls
pressed against shrinking skin.
Dead-eyed horses are revived
only by the steam of their nostrils.
No one predicts a beginning or an end,
'mid' is a frozen idea
in an ice-locked fountain pen,
it will not write even in warm hands.
Killer clowns' shelter behind
their fixed, blood flaked grimaces,
the whites of their eyes
reflect pinpoints
of a dawning apprehension.
Roads decelerate,
creaking through knuckled hands.
Chilled mounds toboggan off rooftops,
dump malformed snowmen
through unmeasured backyard graves.
At the hazy horizon of each grinding day.
midwinter blurs perspective.
This is the middling 'Mid'
a middle where the mind stops flowing
up or down.
Skinny kids
Wrinkled clothes
Crooked windows
Non-symmetrical
Snowman slightly off center
The “Olds”
Wrinkled fenders
A round-headed driver
A teetering toboggan
Hanging from its roof
The artists
Sipping hot cocoa
Desi DeRotten was not easily forgotten
She only wore cotton, and was easily besotten.
Missy Fit heard about her, and got sick a bit.
She has incredible wit, unless she senses a nitwit.
Swede Glooginfloggin fell onto my toboggan.
He hurt his shoulder, his ribs, and his sniffing noggin.
Petunia Patch thought he might be her match.
She invited him to dine, but he said “some other time”.
They were all participants of the dating app Plenty of Fish.
Desi DeRotten thought he would find himself a real dish.
Missy Fit was looking for a man with hair in a big batch.
Surprisingly someone else had signed up Petunia Patch.
Santa sailed upon his sleigh
and came upon Buddha one day,
greeting him with a cry.
Saying, I'm bringing toys
to good girls and boys,
as on this toboggan I fly.
Yep, I'm a plump, jolly fairy,
and will make children merry
with things here in my sack.
Oh, the joy they'll find
when they have what they pined,
and no longer lack.
Santa, I crave nothing in your sled.
My gift, you see, is wisdom instead,
as I remain mindful.
I don't seek Christmas merriment
from a drink or intoxicant,
however delightful.
And so, two men of worth
bore gifts for children here on earth.
You must believe it!
I only tell you this because
that's the way it really was.
How then, did they leave it?
God bless you Buddha!
I'll be on my merry way.
Peace be with you Santa,
Have a nice day!
Ruby Red, toboggan on her head,
Loved every creature God would send.
The first came, with a little wing lame,
For Ruby Red to nurse and tend.
This little white dove did Ruby love
And soon his wing did mend!
He'd fly right above Ruby's head, this dove,
And they became the best of friends.
Then one day it was time to fly away,
The dove knew cold comes with the winter winds.
But before he went, to Ruby he sent
A feather to say, “I'll be back again!”
Cold is the white crystalline night
As the snowflakes gently fall
A pristine sight by candlelight
Casting shadows on the wall
Snuggly in bed my weary head
Begins drifting off to sleep
Dreams of my red toboggan sled
Flying over snows so deep
The snow is still coming down extremely hard
Snowmen are springing up almost in everyone's yard
Schools have decided to close giving the kids a snow day
My driveway will have to wait,the family insists it is time to play
The snowballs are being prepared for the fight that is about to ensue
The adults versus children, our strategy is rapid-fire , they won't know what to do
That tactic was a complete failure as arms tired so very fast
As to who eventually won the fight, do you have to ask
Next up toboggan races on a big hill out back
Once again disaster strikes we have lost so many races, I have lost track
Our day of family fun has finally come to an end
Oh I almost forgot that driveway I have to shovel still awaits, my aching body I can't pretend
the dog made angels
the cat gave me "that" look
...the shovel waited
the power lines sag
sparrows draped in white capes
...await the sunrise
old contrarians
frolicking in the fresh powder
...making snow devils
idle snowmen stare
the cat stalks my mittens
....hot chocolate beckons
family upheaval
the toboggan continues on
...laughter in the snow
lively winter noon
kids push toboggan downhill ~
merriment on ice
Ice, Snow or Frost Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin
Word chosen: Ice
Syllables checked at HMS
Date written: 12/27/2022
I remember plodding through the snow
From my grandma’s house to the bus stop,
Listening to the sounds of the tire chains
The school bus thumping along icy roads,
But school was never cancelled.
Bottoms of my trousers would be frozen
And snow would be clinging to my eyelashes,
Stamping my feet to warm my toes
While we waited in the unheated bus shed,
But school was never cancelled.
The fingers of my mittens would stick together
My toboggan barely covered my ears,
The soles of my shoes would be slippery
And treacherous, since I didn’t have galoshes,
But school was never cancelled.
Snow on the path would pile up to my knees
My breath glistened passing my runny nose,
Some pages of my books would get wrinkled
Especially if I dropped them along the way,
But school was never cancelled.
written December 25, 2021
TOBOGGAN
Freezing fingers, freezing toes,
Running eyes and bright red nose.
But he’s oblivious to the pain
As he clambers up again
Then hurtling down the hill he goes
15th December 2021
Winter Quintain Poetry Contest
Sponsor Francine Roberts
On Christmas Eve, I dreamt of the days of my youth;
back to when I'd toboggan down snow-covered hills.
And ski, although I wasn't skilled, to tell you the truth:
but that is my recollection of winter thrills.
The fun of caroling, or building a snowman,
was how we kept the Christmas spirit in our hearts.
And yet, today, I am just a foolish old man,
an aged actor, playing insignificant parts.
I woke to a heavy blanket of sticky snow
covering the city in a duvet of white.
And although I'm old, I'd very much like to go
frolicking through the snow on this nostalgic night.
Perfect for igloos, building forts, and snowball fights:
I recall snowdrifts that were over ten feet tall.
And every house was strung with colored Christmas lights:
the magic in the air was felt by one and all.
On Christmas Eve, I dreamt of the days of my youth,
the fun of caroling, or building a snowman.
I woke to a heavy blanket of sticky snow,
perfect for igloos, building forts, and snowball fights.
Jack-y
Jack-y
Ohhhh Ms Jacky
how you court your life’s only lover
Huff and puff and contort, the smoke of your
Newfound Newport
(Long not short)
Lazily lacking worldly desires
If I had your sense of humour
Maybe I'd too sling new places
With every shot of tobacco, being
Flung into faraway lands, filled gilded glands
That aren’t quite backed
enough of a bite
sfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfsfs…….pfhooooooooooooooo
Toboggan the whole noggin when its
Packed to the brim, the nicotine
Porcelain eyes for your vaporent dreams
Oh Ms. Jacky, you technicolor dreamer
Wielding blue eyed sheen, portentously protruding Ra’s gleam
So alas, it seems
You spark up another laugh or two
Smoke rising up my face, the habitual ritual
in its proper place
Mercurial Smile, behind eyes unknown
A hidden grace
Solitarily confined in a Surreptitious
Space, far out man
My menial mind is amazed at how your’s a haze
You aren’t here anymore
But
Who really is
We are all Ms. Jacky deep within
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