The Snow Man
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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We Are All The Snow Men
WE ARE ALL THE SNOW MEN
(Homage to Wallace Stevens)
We are all the snow men
Minor would- be Poets
Listening in the distant glitter
To the poem someone else has written
Far better than us.
We are all the quiet readers
Connecting our eyes and ears with images
Finer than those
We can ourselves fantasize:
The ‘junipers shagged with ice’
And ‘the spruces rough in the distant glitter’
We are all minor makers of our own nothingness
Beside the Great Poets who find a music of the soul
We seek and strive for and never find.
We are all the lesser snow men
Out in the cold of our own small minds
Shivering to death in the unending winter
of our own frosted souls
While the great long-lines rise up in flight
And go by
Beyond ‘ambiguous undulations’
A fierce parting light
Our bare selves
strain to surmise and survive.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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January 2012
The wind is riding a roller coaster,
Blowing garbage cans everywhere,
I can hear their tussle on the driveway,
Tossing them in the air,
Another storm to blanket us,
Who live here by Lake Erie,
Another whirl of winter blast,
The sound of it is eerie,
For January the weather is,
So odd this time of year,
I read that all the flu bugs,
Are again going to appear,
Something about La Nina,
Or maybe El Nino,
I'm not sure which it is,
But we're very low on snow,
None of us Clevelanders mind a bit,
It's a very nice change of pace,
We'll take whatever break we can get,
We like the sunshine in our face,
Just today it was 58,
And the sun shone for a minute,
All the snow from the other day,
The rain came and took it with it.
But being that it's only January,
We have much more season to go,
Soon again the plows will roll,
To remove all of our snow.
poem by Victoria Gauci
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sound of Snow
The sound of snow......
it is all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all,
like a dark still night
where sound just doesn't belong.
....it is a kitten landing on a feather pillow,
a single thin piece of paper
floating from side to side
then settling on the ground in one graceful slide,
it is a wind through a spider's web,
long silk hair tussled by a breeze
....snow is not silent it is discrete,
hiding in the open
....a three year old's sleeping breath,
a tear of joy escaping down a red round cheek
....the sound of snow is
the moment between sleep and consciousness,
fuzzy and both empty of thought and full of promise all at once,
snow is the sound dreams would make if we heard them while awake,
snow is the sound an angel makes as it guides a soul to rest.
The sound of snow
...it's all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all.
Winter With a Question
The aging trees will creak and groan
To find themselves ringed by frost in sleep
And snow by the wind already blown
Cast upon snow already deep.
The cold is echoed only by silence all,
And the leaves of Autumn entombed in white
At the place where leaves fall
And passing time, vanish from sight.
Who is it that judges these—
Sends leaves beneath the snow
And trees to shiver alongside trees? —
And where do they go?
poem by Ronny Self
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter-Strike
Winter gray the light of day,
winter-gray snow-melt still on the ground
drawn the winter, long the week,
Monday-gray through Saturday.
Saturday night a freezing rain
left a Sunday washed anew
in snow pock-crusted lacy frosted
gleaming bright in the winter crisp.
Chatter-clatter clickety-tackety / hey, what is that sound?
Spin around with a cocking ear / hey, where is that sound?
Look up, look up to the highest trees!
Diamond-fierce the topmost branches
sheathed in ice — slicing in the wind — twigs all
sparkling rattling swaying shining pierce my heart.
I was eight and we were late to church
that Sunday, day of days
that first and best of all days since —
when tree ice beauty blew me sacred joy.
poem by Gloria Kim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once Upon A Winter Day
Once upon a winter day
Gray clouds passed swiftly across the sky
As shapely snowflakes fell steadily down,
Covering the land in a dazzling white
Leaving a winter calling card on the ground.
Once upon a winter day
The snow-edged creek silently wept
Near the shadows of the tall pine trees
Trimmed in a glittering white lace,
Creating an impressive display in the breeze.
Once upon a winter day
Branches drooped to the impassable road
Due to the weight of the snow.
Icicles hung from the dormant trees
In view of the shattered daylight glow.
Once upon a winter day
Nothing is heard but rubbing tree limbs
And a stray dog faintly barking,
The vibrant sound of a frightened deer,
A broken tree branch suddenly falling.
Once upon a winter day
The distant snow-covered hills
Loomed in the path of the gloomy sky,
Where the northerly wind briskly growled
As chickadees and juncos fluttered by.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold winter night
It was a cold winter night.
All was deadly still.
My guts so tight
I must kill!
The cry of a wolf enters my head
Like a train whistle that echoes far away.
Can it be…something lives on this winter night?
Follow the sound and pray
It does not go away.
My hunger juices flowing; I go.
I and the wolf both now know
Neither is alone in the land of snow.
Oh, how I wish I had his sight
On this cold winter night
The north wind moved in the night before.
The ground all snow and bitter cold…so bitter cold.
The sky filled with stars.
The snow grows old.
My guts so tight
What a cold, cold winter night!
The wolf stays hidden from my sight
With it’s furry coat of gray and white.
He glides across the snow without sound
Like a ballerina tiptoeing over the ground.
My guts so tight
On this bitter cold winter night
I with my blood running slow
My hands burning cold; my face red glow
Driven by the pain in my gut
On this cold-cold bitter winter night
I must kill
To make the night still
So the hunger pains
Will be gone again
I hear nothing on this cold winter night
My hair stands up on the back of my neck
I fear the wolf knows
I turn
Crutch to spring
His fangs showing white; my knife in my hand
We circle like two roosters in a pen.
For one this will be the end.
The pain in my gut is still tight
I will kill but not for the trill
On such a killing bitter cold winter night
With the grace of a cat he springs to flight
My throat his aim on this cold winter night
My knife hits his heart…he hunches in pain;
His fangs rip my throat cutting the jugular vein.
The snows now stain on this cold winter night.
Blood and flesh flung upon the snow
Cries of pain, moans of death…soon will go
From this bitter cold ground
All is still on winter’s playground.
The wolf dances no more
My lips move but there is no sound.
My gut is still tight
I feel alright
No more time to fight
On this bitter cold winter night
Wind and snow now fill the air.
The wolf has an empty den.
The snow will be tracked no more.
Twinkle, twinkle little star
Genocide complete
In a galaxy so far
poem by Ronald Brissette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Once Write To Follow An Idea
writing has a purpose. Words can preach.
Or they are like a wind vane, giving you the
north, and south and east and west.
You ask: why am i heading west? What is
in the snow as thick as my agnosticism?
and you follow, and ask what is it that i
really mean about the sound of a frog
croaking? I put some leaves, and twigs
and pretend that i am composing a tree.
I like the sound of a hush, the wind and the
silence of the mists, the insistence of frost.
Too early, yes too early to conclude that
words must, and must have no other purpose
but to convey and idea. About myself. Looking
for Myself. I am an idea.
Sooner i am told, by this star and this moon,
there is no idea, and there is no purpose either.
Just seasons. Cold and warm. Humid and Dry.
Desert and snow. Wet and Arid. Acidic sometimes.
Smooth. Rough. No reason at all, why prey? What
caused the depredation of feelings? Outbursts and
explosions. Cry. Shout. Bohemian rhapsody.
Yes, this is nothing but colors. Feelings I mean.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Winters Day
Winter,
the cold freezes my thoughts,
freezes my feelings
the wind bites at my face
the snow falls almost as if its in slow motion,
as if im in slow motion
time seems none exsistant
color fades to white
sound becomes silence
the light casts over the snow which glistens like diamonds
color is covered with white
sound becomes silence
the light casts over the snow which glistens like diamonds
There's a cold breeze in my face
I feel the winter come with its peace
The beauty is hard to imagine
But winter is a sight to see
poem by Aaron Mac Lean
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wintertime
Snow falling on the ground,
Little white flakes to be found.
Lift your head to the sky,
And watch the snow zippin’ by.
Cold wind at your back,
Nothing winter seems to lack.
A blanket of snow covers the Trees,
Winter can’t end. No please!
Can’t Jack Frost do his Job?
For a little longer, don’t make me sob.
Can’t I stay in this Wonderland?
I don’t want to return to golden sand.
But under the layer of cold, white snow,
Lies little seedlings ready to show.
I must say a grateful farewell,
To winter fun, for it was swell.
And say hello to summer sweat,
Instead of getting cold, we get wet.
Hello Spring! Hello Summer!
Goodbye Fall! Goodbye Winter!
In the Land of Zephyr...
The wind scooped out the snow,
twirl, splashing the rowan in slumber,
shook its boughs of snow;
to emerald green rife with crimson.
The wind like a sot,
'twixt through woods;
In the woods, spruces of snow,
hailed the wind to mystique umber,
here, with rubble rills row;
here, wild lives in unison.
The wind like a sot,
'twixt through lea, afar woods;
Lea, where near crystal brooks, cows mow,
here, in meadows, mouse grows cucumber,
here, merlins, as I know;
swirls with wind to horizon.
The wind like a sot,
'twixt, aloft heaven, afar woods, afar lea...
poem by Aparna Veeyou
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Piper On The Hills
A CHILD'S SONG
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day,
And when he pipes both loud and shrill,
The frightened people say
‘The wind, the wind is blowing up,
'Tis rising to a gale.’
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing to a gale.
But when he pipes all sweet and low,
The piper on the hill,
I hear the merry women go
With laughter, loud and shrill
‘The wind, the wind is coming south,
'Twill blow a gentle day.’
They gather on the meadow-land,
To toss the yellow hay.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing south to-day.
And in the morn, when winter comes,
To keep the piper warm,
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm
‘The snow, the snow has come at last!’
The happy children call,
And ‘ring around’ they dance in glee,
And watch the snowflakes fall.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Has spread a snowy pall.
But when at night the piper plays,
I have not any fear,
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear;
And when each crowding spirit looks,
From its star window-pane,
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
May blow her home again.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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More Lovely phrases winter 09
Silvery angels,
Clear cold crystal creeks
Fresh Christmas trees
Frost reddened cheeks
Plump pillows of snow
Pine boughs in repose
Crystalline snowflakes
Cold lunar moon glows
Tangles of tinsel
Rainbows of lights
Presents beribboned
Kaleidoscope sights
Sprinkles of stardust
Icy white, moon beams
Crisp crackle of winter
Happy Christmas eve dreams
More random phrases
This time tis of cold and ice
With no plan and no pattern
To you I pray they sound nice
I’d like to say to ye, before I go
A very merry Christmas and
a happy new year to ye all
From a humble poet….
David O
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Holly Leaves And Christmas Trees
Somewhere in, in the distant night
I hear Christmas bells
The gentle snow keeps falling down on people
Who are homeward bound
That's the it's always been
The circle really never ends
Christmas seems to come and go
From the place that I don't know
Holly leaves and Christmas trees
It's that time of year
Lights aglow and mistletoe
Don't mean a thing when you're not here
As I walk, walk this lonely street
The sound of snow beneath my feet
I'll think of how it used to be
Holly leaves and Christmas trees
Use to mean so much to me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond And Before
cast shadows in winter home,
Swaying branches breaking sound,
lonely forest trembling ground.
Masquerading leaves of blue run circles round the morning dew,
Patterns understood by you, reaching out beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down to hidden levels underground,
Say a few words to the wind, that's all that's left of winter's friend.
Reaching the snow in the days of the cold, casting a spell out of ice.
Now that you're gone,
The summer's too long and it seems like the end of my life
Beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond And Before
cast shadows in winter home,
Swaying branches breaking sound,
lonely forest trembling ground.
Masquerading leaves of blue run circles round the morning dew,
Patterns understood by you, reaching out beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down to hidden levels underground,
Say a few words to the wind, that's all that's left of winter's friend.
Reaching the snow in the days of the cold, casting a spell out of ice.
Now that you're gone,
The summer's too long and it seems like the end of my life
Beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond & Before
Sparkling trees of silver foam
Cast shadows in winter home,
Swaying branches breaking sound,
Lonely forest trembling ground.
Masquerading leaves of blue run circles round the morning dew,
Patterns understood by you, reaching out beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down to hidden levels underground,
Say a few words to the wind, thats all thats left of winters friend.
Reaching the snow in the days of the cold, casting a spell out of ice.
Now that youre gone,
The summers too long and it seems like the end of my life
Beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond & Before
Sparkling trees of silver foam
Cast shadows in winter home,
Swaying branches breaking sound,
Lonely forest trembling ground.
Masquerading leaves of blue run circles round the morning dew,
Patterns understood by you, reaching out beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down to hidden levels underground,
Say a few words to the wind, thats all thats left of winters friend.
Reaching the snow in the days of the cold, casting a spell out of ice.
Now that youre gone,
The summers too long and it seems like the end of my life
Beyond and before.
Time, like gold dust, brings mind down.
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Winter Turns to Spring 1
Snow, snow, snow,
Snow on the ground,
Wind, wind, wind
Wind in the air,
These are the things
I like about winter,
But soon the season’s change,
They change four times a year,
No one can do anything about it,
So when winter turns to spring,
I will be down,
But I can look forward,
To next winter.
poem by Jatie Apple
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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