Winter(A) Poems - Poems about Winter(A)

By Michael Parker Days have flown quickly by like fearsome comets. Here then gone; here then gone. My hair is colored moonlight. My bones are brittle as the limbs of the trees cracking from the touch of winter’s deepening freeze. If I could disclose a secret, it is suffering has visited me like an old...

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By Michael Parker At the end of the street lies the sky dressed in the purple magician's robe of eventide and the winter storm. Tonight, she sculpts stairs of ice and snow. She casts spells upon the laden earth and the dying man can hear her invitations in the blizzard, in dreams that are like all other dreams except more sound, deep, and...

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jade firs stood on grass-grown scene her slope swathed in verdant sheen white frost came, a friend so dear the woods remain, ever green ...

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On the coldest nights, when the air and land conspire And the winds sing their siren's serenade of desire An unbecoming part inside causes me to rise And festoon my frame with my most festive attire To step outside for a walk A silent stroll amidst the hidden horrors of the times...

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cold toes peeking through sandals on a winters day silly little me frostbite is likely its twenty below zero silly frozen me...

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snow d u s ...

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blue pines sparkle under snowy gray sky on top of voluptuous hills the evergreen in Winter - their slant suggests skiers, and worshippers around a bonfire - the red house. the main house in uplift on the port hill ...

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Winter storm. Question marks fall like snow on shoulders bent with seeking. Hollow caverns where certainty once lived echo chambers of why. Face pressed against cold glass. Fingertips trace what cannot be grasped. Footsteps soft on unseen paths. Autumn leaves crumble in cupped palms. Dreams, half-formed, scatter like dust through fingers that cannot hold. Shell splits. Light finds the crack, makes...

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At first light trudging through the Arctic Snow, Is it for thrill or just a Facebook photo show? As the Arctic wind buffets our flushed face, The long-awaited walk soon becomes a shambles of a race. Hands morph to splintered wood, eyebrows deftly freeze, And yet the brochure promised we’d do this trek with ease. Soldier on, embrace the frigid grind, Pray...

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It's to be expected this time of year, mid Winter, a merciless wind straight off the bay blowing leaves left over from Autumn, lifting them like dead prey flicked up by the claws of a cat reliving the kill in its remorseless play. ...

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Original Haiku by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: winter, love, dream, kindness, sun, sea, leaf, leaves, autumn, spring, life, poets, words, stars, moon, war Such a frigid winter day, our words also icy —Michael R. Burch Her love, sheer and ***** as gossamer, did not adhere... —Michael R. Burch I dream of love as bankers dream of repossessing Ferraris. —Michael R. Burch The hummingbird fans an iris: myriad acts of kindness go...

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I recall the yelling but silent voice of winter that broken December when the lights from lanterns shot up from their wicks with the fading strength of departing glows abroad. Twilights hastened through the spine of receding days, halting the approach of a wayward Christmas. The wilderness around us yielded froths from a puking snowstorm, fastening laces of Hell with strings of abundant sleet....

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Heart-shaped box of chocolates, late Winter surprise. See sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes. She knows him now, all too well, every inch of him. This sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes. A straight and narrow arrow flew from Cupid’s bowstring. Struck sailor, in a dark uniform, hiding his eyes. He had to open them then -...

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Your love is as welcome as a gentle summer breeze, Feeling its depth brings me to my knees. It's as soothing as a massage at the end of a long day, Yet intriguing and exciting in its own way. For lasting an eternity is that for which I pray, ...

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It was all about a grim, Foggy, smoggy, old Thursday night In Hithergreen, London’s belching south, Below Europe’s icy, dark trees and In the silence of grieving mornings . . . Bulbous clouds bleeding with strained oomph Would stir the ingravescence of patented ills. The trains always come railing! Railing loud and silly Like heathen bandits with no shame. But before such mornings, A half-distilled liquored, low-brewed Evening...

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