Winter Villanelle Poems | Examples
These Winter Villanelle poems are examples of Villanelle poems about Winter. These are the best examples of Villanelle Winter poems written by international poets.
the winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight
Its icy tentacles wrap around me and squeezes
freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite
staving off the cold is a battle, an endless fight
it brings forth an assortment of nasty diseases
The winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight
these grey days cloud over the sun, having no light
as the icy chill roam wherever it does pleases
freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite
my blood flows like a frozen berg of ice
and into my bones the air seeps, then freezes
the winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight
frozen raindrops form like dripping stalagmite
and the wind blows hard, never letting up or eases
freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite
thunder roars. then the dark sky ignites
distant are the summer days of warm breezes
The winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight
freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite
You are locked away in a frozen mist
Your hand once warm upon my knee, my phantom limb—
the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.
You were never a man who balled your fist
Instead, your eyes had guilt in a chrysalis brim,
And for that I find my cold love an agony to resist.
Yet there’s a delicious and chilled knife to twist
And I can gorge myself on your blood and grim, oh once!—
the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.
The world may burn like Hell, that’s the gist
But flames are the rough tender warmth, and at your whim
I’d rather endure the icy planes of the forgotten than the missed.
Is the curse to become you, or have me for you to dismiss?
My grievances do not choose to end, so I reach up and skim
the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.
Through the mist I see your figure, this tundra shall persist
So mark my words, only with the sun shall my love and hatred dim.
My lungs freeze with my heart, I cannot again sing your hymn
For the sky atop your shoulders I kissed.
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
The establishment wants the homeless dead
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
That bitter cold wind causing our bodies to seize
the people on a merry dance have been led
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
That jack Frost stalks the land looking for victims to seize
No food no water no shelter no bed
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
these people dying alone on a winter’s eve
no compassion no charity no tears are shed
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
We all go on with our lives like were so naive
winters wind so cold no blood is bled
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
common sense mocks us as death is hard to perceive
whatever happened to give us this day our daily bread
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
Hear the song that angels sing tonight
A Child is born amid the winter snow
Come to Him who bears Heaven’s delight.
Come, poor shepherds, to the Son of Light
Rejoice, whose ears were the first to know
Hear the song that angels sing tonight.
Come, O kings, who traversed through the night
You, who were led by the West Star’s glow
Come to Him who bears Heaven’s delight.
Come, those who are blind, and receive your sight
Before the horns of Judgment blow,
Hear the song that angels sing tonight.
Come, whose hearts are broken and contrite
Walk from your sins and lay down your woes
Come to Him who bears Heaven’s delight.
Behold the One who hears your plight
Whose Grace to the meek shall overflow
O Hear the song that angels sing tonight,
Come to Him who bears Heaven’s delight.
Soundless words, pierce, then flow
Like the wind, whose story God wrote
Restless dreams whisper their glow
Joy stirs the music, the songs who know
He restores souls with His gentle note
Soundless words, pierce, then flow
Softly caressing winds, swirl and blow
Listening to the poetry hearts can quote
Restless dreams whisper their glow
Rustle of leaves, swooshing to and fro
Grace that God’s word shall promote
Soundless words, pierce, then flow
Winter drifts in with blessings of snow
Reflections arising from God’s lifeboat
Restless dreams whisper their glow
Gentle kiss of peace, to the Savior I owe
To Him, my life and love I’ll ever devote
Soundless words, pierce, then flow
Restless dreams whisper their glow
There's an earthiness to each scented breeze,
and a warm caress in the Sun's embrace:
revealing the telltale signs of Spring's tease.
The ice melts as rivers slowly unfreeze,
while the daffodils dare to show their face:
there's an earthiness to each scented breeze.
Based upon the weatherman's expertise:
a shift of seasons is set to take place;
revealing the telltale signs of Spring's tease.
Where Chinooks wrestled Winter to Her knees
weaving snowflakes into patches of lace:
there's an earthiness to each scented breeze.
Robin-red-breasts herald the honeybees,
while snowmen disappear without a trace:
revealing the telltale signs of Spring's tease.
Anxieties instantly start to ease,
and doldrums depart at a quickened pace.
Revealing the telltale signs of Spring's tease:
there's an earthiness to each scented breeze.
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
I'm drawn to this bouquet; I am left so madly.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
Happiest are these thoughts deliberately construed.
Winter taking them from my core destroys me, sadly.
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
Purple pillars of violently swaying happiness imbue
So I harvest them as fast as I can, enjoying them gladly.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
After such a long time between blossoms, histories accrued.
I waited patiently for their replacement, so very badly.
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
I felt the truest of forlorn, nearly left lifelessly blued.
Springtime rain brought them back to my welcoming hands, comradely.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
Once I found eyes on them, new happiness did exude.
Replenishing their hearts energy regrown in me
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
Cold is coming and we must get ready,
winter is creep, creeping closer each day;
the pure white snow falling like confetti.
Weather stations say snow will be plenty,
some days will be just winter white and gray;
cold is coming and we must get ready.
We will dress up real warm then be sweaty,
oh, I love to watch a snowflake ballet;
the pure white snow falling like confetti.
Some days are all azure blue and pretty,
in the snow squirrels ran, tumble and play;
cold is coming and we must get ready.
From the window watches my spoiled kitty,
the snow scenes make a beautiful display;
the pure white snow falling like confetti.
Oh, it is getting misty and windy,
I do love how all the snow-draped trees sway;
cold is coming and we must get ready,
the pure white snow falling like confetti.
The cold winter day he left us behind
A last spark of light would fade from his eyes
Now he can have back his body and mind
To sit on the sidelines, never the kind
But fog clouded up his where’s, who’s and why’s
The cold winter day he left us behind
Fixing cars til he couldn’t, nose to the grind
Missing the days of a brew with the guys
Now he can have back his body and mind
Glimpses of self fewer as he declined
Letting go before he said his goodbyes
The cold winter day he left us behind
Now he can finally relax and unwind
Now his young soul free of ailing disguise
Now he can have back his body and mind
Bittersweet, a loss but peace he will find
Maybe he’s dancing somewhere in the skies
The cold winter day he left us behind
Now he can have back his body and mind
I love riding in an old-fashioned sleigh
Tightly bundled against the frosty air,
A fine snowy winter evening getaway.
The two of us snuggling giddy and gay,
Enjoying ourselves without a single care
I love riding in an old-fashioned sleigh.
Listening to harness bells jangle and sway
Occasional snorting of the dappled mare
A fine snowy winter evening getaway.
An exquisite ending to our perfect day
Snowflakes falling softly onto our hair
I love riding in an old-fashioned sleigh.
So enjoyable a ride we’d love to stay
But others are waiting for turns over there
A fine snowy winter evening getaway.
We’re delighted by the children at play
In the snow, and still, they stop to stare,
I love riding in an old-fashioned sleigh
A fine snowy winter evening getaway.
Written November 29, 2022
Ballerina
A dainty dancer statue graces a busy pathway
Grace on perfect point for all to see
Heaven’s music beats in her heart every day
Clear crystal happiness begs me to dance her way
In summer’s lilting arabesque with lady bugs and bees
A dainty dancer statue graces a busy pathway
I flow in cadence with the joy of her ballet
As springtime daffodils dance with me
Heaven’s music beats in her heart every day
She pirouettes as golden leaves swing and sway
I follow her steps in the dance of scarlet trees
A dainty dancer statue graces a busy pathway
I twirl with her in swirling snowflake play
When winter leaves a frosty filigree
Heaven’s music beats in her heart every day
Through every season she begs me dance fall to May
To leap and laugh with her in the dance of life
Heaven’s music beats in her heart every day
A dainty dancer statue graces a busy pathway
1-22-22
Contest; V Poems
Sponsor: Constance La France
“V” form chosen - Villanelle
Dedicated to my granddaughter on her sixteenth birthday
There is a bronze statue of a little ballerina on the mall at the Old Orchard Mall. This statue is the source of my inspiration for this poem.
In my row of bushes remains one rose
not wilted yet nearby the garden bed -
Last rose of fall in beautiful repose.
Roses tend to perish when chill wind blows.
Her sister roses vanished in her stead.
In my row of bushes remains one rose.
Her ruby petals still unfurled she shows
although long days of cozy warmth have fled.
Last rose of fall in beautiful repose!
Although each fall day swiftly comes and goes
and soon to winter Autumn shall be wed,
in my row of bushes remains one rose.
It rains a bit. Sometimes it even snows.
It seems as if this flower has no dread -
last rose of fall in beautiful repose.
It won’t be long now as the coldness grows
all blossoms everywhere here will be dead.
In my row of bushes remains one rose -
Last rose of fall in beautiful repose.
Nov. 16, 2022
For the Third-Person Villanelle Poetry Contest of L MILTON HANKINS
It's here- that special time of year- once more,
when autumn leaves bid their farewell to trees
to spread bright cheer o'er summer's old decor.
The velvet green that covered them before-
no longer kissed by summer's gentle breeze.
It's here- that special time of year, once more.
Such lovely, pastel blooms, the summer bore;
now sturdy plants of bright fall colors, please-
to spread bright cheer o'er summer's old decor.
Along a path, or gracing a front door-
they can withstand temps lower in degrees;
it's here- that special time of year- once more.
The autumn paints new landscapes to explore
warm, burnished scenes before the winter freeze;
to spread bright cheer o'er summer's old decor.
As autumn splays its red and gold splendor-
for sure, this beauty always will appease.
It's here- that special time of year, once more
to spread bright cheer o'er summer's old decor.
November 3, 2022
Premiere Contest: Third-Person Villanelle
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped
Wintry weather creeps down with passing days,
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
Many of the larger critters are sadly trapped,
For they have not adjusted to our urban ways
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped.
Tall, spindly pines are in thin snowsuits wrapped
In the wind a snow-laden limb melodically sways
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
Native brown bears, fat and lazy, seem zapped
As they search for a safe place while winter splays
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped.
Before the snow can melt, it is once again lapped
Piling up high, thwarting mountain hiking forays
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
For years the mountain trails have been mapped
It’s possible to enjoy those Christmas Eve sleighs
Rugged mountain peaks are now snow-capped
The lips on the blossoms are faded and chapped.
Written October 29, 2022
Weep not at the close of a summer’s dream,
Nor think love will ne’er return another June
Remember things are seldom as they seem.
Cupid plays on the young his favorite scheme
Love in winter forever sings a different tune
Weep not at the close of a summer’s dream.
He ne’er dips a hand twice in the same stream
September bliss bleats like the mating loon,
Remember things are not always as they seem.
Fleeting are the loosed passions, like a meme
Strongly sensed at first, then vanishing soon,
Weep not at the close of a summer’s dream.
Infatuation offers not what one would deem,
Often making of a boy a gangly, gawking goon
Remember things are not always as they seem.
Lips grow cold and sparkling eyes their gleam
Seen in the light of a pale, luminescent moon
Weep not at the close of a summer’s dream,
Remember things are seldom as they seem.
Written August 27, 2022