Chilly is the night.
In cold darkness, take a bite.
Does the warmth bring light?
for the children of the Holocaust, Ukraine and Gaza
Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails
when thunder howls
when hailstones scream
when winter scowls
when nights compound dark frosts with snow
where does the butterfly go?
Where does the rose hide its bloom
when night descends oblique and chill,
beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill?
When the only relief’s a banked fire’s glow,
where does the butterfly go?
And where shall the spirit flee
when life is harsh, too harsh to face,
and hope is lost without a trace?
Oh, when the light of life runs low,
where does the butterfly go?
by Michael R. Burch
In my opinion, the most important human rights are the human rights of children to grow up without becoming the victims of racism, inequality, injustice, homelessness, malnutrition, starvation or war. I agree with Gandhi, who said that if we want to live in a better world, we need to start with the children.
Dark clouds part
Spring sun warms land
Sleepy tree opens wardrobe
Fresh green cloak covers naked frame
Squirrel gymnastics performed against vibrant backdrop
Ignored by blackbirds busy building
Summer arrives
Leaf’s heyday
Flutters in warm breeze
Veins pump life into dainty form
Nature’s simplistic beauty
Too soon chill spreads across land
Winds gust challenging life
Leaf resists but colour changes
Green tinged with brown
Tree draws inward
Leaf’s lifeblood turned off
Brown vista prevails
Then airborne in autumn sky
Dark clouds draw in
Bleak winter arrives
Grounded, shrivelled, still
Life leaves leaf
WINTER is...
Wearing woolly jumpers,
Inside days,
Nose-tip dripping,
Table games,
Early off to bed,
Reading books.
WINTER is...
Wiggling toes warming up
In my room as the heater blows.
Noses are nippy out in the cold.
Try on the boots: “Too small!” “Too old!”
Eating a pie with lots of sauce... and then...
Running off with a soccer ball.
woe, to my woken, winter's sleep
dark shadows chilling my hollow
springs well up, orbs forever weep
winter rings...no spring will follow
bitter is the cold, bitter so old
bitter for just...one last, first start
sprinklings of springs, so young and bold
now, ice-slick sickles, sever my heart
oh, bitter is the winter of my death
bitter keeps ring, ringing, my phone
bitter is...the hindering of breath
bitter is...my winter alone
Winter
Winter spreads a white cloak upon the ground,
His hands are cold, yet kindness may be found.
Snowflakes are unwritten letters from lovers,
That whisper in the wind, then rest under snowy covers.
In the coldest nights, only love’s warmth will survive,
Keeping the circle of seasons gently alive.
Beloved, when you come, spring of union and summer of passion bloom,
When you leave, autumn of memory and winter of longing loom.
Our love is four seasons that through you find their part,
A cycle eternal, forever turning within the heart.
Soft musical chimes
Silenced by autumn's still air
Poised for winter
Two dormice, frozen;
victims of an early frost;
huddled for last warmth.
On the wind, leaves from oaks bless away
prayers, though silent, leave a gentle grace
like cinnamon, pumpkin spice and gray
blessing so quietly it feels like loves here to stay
soon winter will visit with its chilly embrace
and I’ll hear the joy of Christmas as I pray
these were adorable snow boots but they leaked
my socks are wet now and I think I’m getting frostbite
It is at least a hundred yards back to the house
why did I have to buy beauty instead of sturdy?
each step in this deep snow is miserable
My teeth are chattering now
Why does anyone live in Minnesota in January?
I cannot wait to get inside
I made it alive, my icy cold socks are plastered to my toes
I have difficulty pulling them off
I put two socks on each of my feet
Put on my cozy pajamas and start a fire in the fire place
Out the window I can see the snow
It is gloriously pretty from inside.
Twinkles and glistens, sparkles with bluing.
Maybe everyone should live in Minnesota.
Summer has almost passed
in the Southwest -- slight
edge taken off, optimistic
with the shorter days --
shorter, darker days
has nothing to do with
spiritual content, in the
desert -- God blesses those
who survive as well as the
blistered dead. Fall, we
start leaving our dens,
our human bear connection.
Dare we venture back into
the sunny days? Looking
forward to garments, and
cold water from the cold water
tap -- colored leaves and crispy,
crunching while walking is
evident to the mountain dwellers --
but in the valley deserts, Fall is
recognized more by the thawing,
so to speak -- our season of cooler
drippy celebration! A chance for
splashing in puddles, and doing
happy Rain-dances! Monsoon
for Desert Rat Bloom! Maybe
I will even shave before taking
my first Winter Airing.
Autumn
A northwest breeze gently caresses my face,
and nine days linger until first day of fall.
Each change of seasons I readily embrace,
I see cascading leaves and hear Geese that call.
winter
Then comes winter with it’s seasonal blast,
when often, tree branches, wear winter attire.
Frequently this season leaves me downcast,
but the smouldering fire becomes my pacifier.
spring
Then buds sprout and grass begins to green,
spring always brings with it new birth.
I watch songbirds as they sing and preen,
and plant things that grow in God’s rich earth.
Summer
Summer is the season of some harsh extremes,
a sweltering heat index often affects my inhaling.
It conjures up my visions of rippling streams,
each season becomes a portrait God’s unveiling.
.
wool
twill weave
cardiganz
harem pants
boots
hoodiez
aran coats
dents
I spent a lot of time alone in bed like I am right now
Peeking through my windowsill
And watching little children on bikes with training wheels
But then I looked into my own room, and
Saw something I couldn’t bear
It was like a tornado
But quiet, not a sound
Destructive in its ways that teared me down,
Into pieces, into pieces
I saw something couldn’t bear
It was cold and harsh,
An icy winter air
It was destructive in its ways that tore me down
Over and over again
Left me in its wake to piece back the pieces all again
Selfishly i thought it was the end
But then, but then
The winter came back
But in the disguise of a summer waving goodbye
And it all started again
The loneliness was in the air
Collecting snowflakes in my hair
The season changes were too hard to bear
That I stopped combing my hair
And every little task that I used to find easy
Became a chore that I had to do because of necessity
In the springtime of my life,
I hear the birds, singing delight
Crooning the hope through my worst strife,
Silencing shadows with sweetest insight
In the summertime of my life,
I hear the whisper of leaves, alive
Telling a story of when I’m filled with strife
Pouring out hope, assured I’ll survive
In the autumn of my life,
I hear the music of stars at twilight,
Revealing the music of hope despite strife
Rising in victory, the music He’ll write
In the winter of my life,
I hear the praise of each sunrise
Coloring my world beautiful despite the strife
When death comes, there’ll be no surprise
In the days that leave me unsure,
I hear the beautiful of a God who is true
And I know, all this fear and doubt I’ll endure,
Knowing that my heart, He will surely renew!
Specific Types of Winter Poems
Read wonderful winter poetry on the following sub-topics:
acrostic, classic, children, depressing, funny, haiku, holiday, kids, love, rhyme, season, solstice
and more.
Definition | What is Winter in Poetry?
Poems Related to Winter
snow, cold, frost, chill, jack frost, december, january, wintertime, wintertide, winter wonderland, christmas, yuletide