To Elizabeth Ward Perkins
Dear Bessie, would my tired rhyme
Had force to rise from apathy,
And shaking off its lethargy
Ring word-tones like a Christmas chime.
But in my soul's high belfry, chill
The bitter wind of doubt has blown,
The summer swallows all have flown,
The bells are frost-bound, mute and still.
Upon the crumbling boards the snow
Has drifted deep, the clappers hang
Prismed with icicles, their clang
Unheard since ages long ago.
The rope I pull is stiff and cold,
My straining ears detect no sound
Except a sigh, as round and round
The wind rocks through the timbers old.
Below, I know the church is bright
With haloed tapers, warm with prayer;
But here I only feel the air
Of icy centuries of night.
Beneath my feet the snow is lit
And gemmed with colours, red, and blue,
Topaz, and green, where light falls through
The saints that in the windows sit.
Here darkness seems a spectred thing,
Voiceless and haunting, while the stars
Mock with a light of long dead years
The ache of present suffering.
Silent and winter-killed I stand,
No carol hymns my debt to you;
But take this frozen thought in lieu,
And thaw its music in your hand.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Christmas Is Coming
Christmas is coming
Spread the good news
Bring alot of cheer
Christ is here
Children are playing
Sliegh bells ring
Music playing
Songs to hear
Lots of ribbon
Plenty of bows
Turkey cooking
Lot's of drinks
Happy as can be
Christmas is coming
Give thanks
Say please, thank you, and your welcome
Santa is coming
Go to sleep
Presents to buy
Wrap them all up
Winter snow
Hay rides
Wrap up warm
Christmas is coming
Hear bells in your sleep
As the angels sing
With winter snow
Stars shining bright
On a cold christmas night
Snow on the ground
Wind blowing
Storm a coming
All wrapped up
Snuggle and warm
Hear singing
Bells ringing
Ice on the road
Watch where you go
So much fun to be had
Just for winter
Have a good night
Snow all around
Flake's on the window pane
Merry christmas to one and all
poem by Angel Plant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Winter of Discontent
I remember a winter a few decades ago.
Where our dear England was covered in snow.
It started on Boxing Day with a blizzard from hell
then in the course of a week the snow just fell.
This once green paradise was now a shroud of white
and everyone was suffering from chillblains and frostbite.
Outdoor life was like an indoor fridge
where everything had frozen like a mountain ridge.
Abandon lorries on the side of the road
men were freezing even their load.
Villages cut off all over the land
so in came the troops to lend a hand.
This was the winter of discontent that lasted from
Christmas, and way past Lent.
As one lot of snow cleared, it would return again
to bring freezing cold tempretures and a lot of pain.
Wind would blow both night and day, and still the snow
never went away.Drifts of snow standing six foot high
just being topped up with snow from a winter sky.
So what of this winter of ice and snow
one that happened a few decades ago.
I remember it as one that was cold and wild
because in the summer God presented me
with my first born child.
In this year, where snow fell in December
it was the coldest winter I will ever remember.
poem by Sylvia Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Chistmas Eve,1938
The snow was gently falling,
the gusts of wind the only sound.
The branches of the trees were white,
Snow drifted on the ground.
The couple walking through the snow
wore layers of warm clothes.
Their cheeks, half frozen from the cold,
the only skin exposed.
How good it felt to step inside
And close the wind away.
Soon the kettle made a cheery sound-
Hot chocolate on its way..
In the corner stood a Christmas tree
The best they could afford
Dressed with tinsel and with ornaments
to celebrate the Lord.
Theirs was not the largest house
Nor the newest on the block
They tried hard to live sensible
by staying out of hock.
Last Christmas had been difficult
Jobs had been hard to find.
The husband worked at two or three
Taking what he could part time.
This Christmas looked much better.
They were comfortable and warm
They listened on the radio
To a sweet Tenor’s Christmas song
In the distance they heard church bells chime
As Midnight mass was sung
And the babe, there in the manger,
was revealed to old and young.
Her husband held her in his arms
as she opened up his gift.
He thought she rather liked it
By her warm and loving kiss.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hendecasyllabics
In the month of the long decline of roses
I, beholding the summer dead before me,
Set my face to the sea and journeyed silent,
Gazing eagerly where above the sea-mark
Flame as fierce as the fervid eyes of lions
Half divided the eyelids of the sunset;
Till I heard as it were a noise of waters
Moving tremulous under feet of angels
Multitudinous, out of all the heavens;
Knew the fluttering wind, the fluttered foliage,
Shaken fitfully, full of sound and shadow;
And saw, trodden upon by noiseless angels,
Long mysterious reaches fed with moonlight,
Sweet sad straits in a soft subsiding channel,
Blown about by the lips of winds I knew not,
Winds not born in the north nor any quarter,
Winds not warm with the south nor any sunshine;
Heard between them a voice of exultation,
'Lo, the summer is dead, the sun is faded,
Even like as a leaf the year is withered,
All the fruits of the day from all her branches
Gathered, neither is any left to gather.
All the flowers are dead, the tender blossoms,
All are taken away; the season wasted,
Like an ember among the fallen ashes.
Now with light of the winter days, with moonlight,
Light of snow, and the bitter light of hoarfrost,
We bring flowers that fade not after autumn,
Pale white chaplets and crowns of latter seasons,
Fair false leaves (but the summer leaves were falser),
Woven under the eyes of stars and planets
When low light was upon the windy reaches
Where the flower of foam was blown, a lily
Dropt among the sonorous fruitless furrows
And green fields of the sea that make no pasture:
Since the winter begins, the weeping winter,
All whose flowers are tears, and round his temples
Iron blossom of frost is bound for ever.'
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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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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The Chill Of An Early Fall
Well her old friend, from her own end of town dropped by today,
And way down deep inside me something died
When he came 'round to see her that way.
Here it comes again, that same old chilly wind
Will blow like a cold winter squall.
And I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
And I'll be drinking again and thinking whenever he calls,
There's a storm coming on, it won't be too long till the snow falls.
Oh I'll be sobersome,
But when October comes and goes and no time at all
I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh how quick they slip away, here today and gone tomorrow.
Love and seasons never stay, bitter winds are sure to follow.
Now there's no doubt, it's gonna be cold out tonight;
I've shivered all day, and when I look in her eyes
Needing to hold her so tight, she just looks away.
Oh she'll swear that it's true, he's just someone she knew
Long ago, and I'll know that's not all,
And I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Winter
Welcome back home Father Winter
we have waited all year for you.
Your lovely trees, so tall
their branches now bare
they stand there waving you
back home you brought with you
your winter jewels, now they hang
on those naked branches.
The summer flowers, have
now laid down for a long winters
nap their waiting for you to cover
them with your winter blanket.
Your blanket will keep them
warm till spring then they'll
all pop up and sing.
Now all the small animals have
laid their heads down too sweet
dreams every thing will awake to
fresh new season.
You have dressed everything for
Christmas. your ice snow flakes
have landed on our pond it looks
looks like big white frosted glass
mirror it also created beautiful
glass like ornaments that
hang on the ever green trees.
Your cold fluffy snow lays upon
their branches it drapes like a
pearl necklace among their branches
they all look so lovely.
The winter clouds that you have blown
in float beneath the stars so bright
the full moon shines down upon the
hill tops all covered in your beauty.
The fresh snow glistens like stars
and silver gliter it looks like
millions of diamondseen have been
scattered on the beaten paths.
Your winter air smell so crisp
and cold as you speak, you can
see your breath in \the cold air
the only lights are from the new
full winter moon.
As you can see Father Winter has
blown, in with such briskness.
Every where you now look,
now looks bright and fresh.
Little children have started the
count down.To that special
night which is not to far off in sight.
And like ''SANTA'
You'll be gone, in the wink
of an eye.
We thank you for all the beauty
that you have given us, you'll
only last a while upon you I'll
walk a brisk mile.
We'll love you as long as you'll
last..Upon your snow we'll
dance and play.
We'll do this each cold day..
Until you melt away.
and then we'll say a sad good-bye.,
GAYLE ANNE GOFF
DECEMBER
2008
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Beechwood Cemetery
Here the dead sleep--the quiet dead. No sound
Disturbs them ever, and no storm dismays.
Winter mid snow caresses the tired ground,
And the wind roars about the woodland ways.
Springtime and summer and red autumn pass,
With leaf and bloom and pipe of wind and bird,
And the old earth puts forth her tender grass,
By them unfelt, unheeded and unheard.
Our centuries to them are but as strokes
In the dim gamut of some far-off chime.
Unaltering rest their perfect being cloaks--
A thing too vast to hear or feel or see--
Children of Silence and Eternity,
They know no season but the end of time.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Frozen Pride
Snow covered hills
In the deep of January
Freezing cold
Jitters makes me shake
On the side of the house
Icicles cling high
Overly clear
Unlike the sky
Overcast and gray
Precipitation likely
Heard just now
The winter wind
I'm frozen in place
Can't feel my feet
I wonder why
I'm standing outside
In the dead of winter
Seizing the frozen pride
Soon to participate
With the dance of the cold
poem by Russell Sivey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chill Of An Early Fall
Well her old friend, from her own end of town dropped by today,
And way down deep inside me something died
When he came round to see her that way.
Here it comes again, that same old chilly wind
Will blow like a cold winter squall.
And Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
And Ill be drinking again and thinking whenever he calls,
Theres a storm coming on, it wont be too long till the snow falls.
Oh Ill be sobersome,
But when october comes and goes and no time at all
Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh how quick they slip away, here today and gone tomorrow.
Love and seasons never stay, bitter winds are sure to follow.
Now theres no doubt, its gonna be cold out tonight;
Ive shivered all day, and when I look in her eyes
Needing to hold her so tight, she just looks away.
Oh shell swear that its true, hes just someone she knew
Long ago, and Ill know thats not all,
And Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Snow Is A Lonely Thing
First snow
is a lonely
thing
First times
Forevers
Lovers
forgotten
beyond
the beyond
Once here
Now gone
First thought
of eventually
burns
Buried deep below
in seizures of snow
A thousand
snowflakes
deep
Blink
bright
across
this sea
Frozen
blue
Speak to me
Speak of you
This cold
blue
creed
Star
cracked
sky
Blue ore
cold
First snow
Lonely
The sound of you
long gone
Blowing through
Clear and cold
and beautiful
A thought
lost
somewhere
for good
If I could
I would
remember
That cold blue
A different
December
Thoughts moving at the speed of light
like first snows and seasons past
A thousand snowflakes
Falling
Calling
Nothing lasts
Nothing lasts
poem by Ari' Anna Arena
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines: The cold earth slept below
The cold earth slept below;
Above the cold sky shone;
And all around,
With a chilling sound,
From caves of ice and fields of snow
The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.
The wintry hedge was black;
The green grass was not seen;
The birds did rest
On the bare thorn's breast,
Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds o'er many a crack
Which the frost had made between.
Thine eyes glow'd in the glare
Of the moon's dying light;
As a fen-fire's beam
On a sluggish stream
Gleams dimly--so the moon shone there,
And it yellow'd the strings of thy tangled hair,
That shook in the wind of night.
The moon made thy lips pale, belov{`e}d;
The wind made thy bosom chill;
The night did shed
On thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie
Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Snow Dancing
Frozen ground, frozen ponds,
Overgrown fields awaiting spring.
Snow dancing across the roads,
Snow too cold to melt
when it hits the ground.
To light to stay down,
blowing every which way.
Cars pass by disturbing the air
making the snow dance
on swirling currents of air.
Swirling up, down, all around,
spinning, wildly, round and round,
trying to get to the ground.
Almost bare roads covered
with swirls of snow.
Everywhere the flowing snow.
No cars pass by. Now, only the wind.
Wind still blowing the snow,
up, down, and all around,
dancing lively to the ground.
From my poetry book 'Snowed in by a Warm Fire'
available on Amazon.com
poem by Joe Wocoski
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Never
I wake. Yes, it's a coffin lid.-With effort
I reach my hands out and I call
For help. Yes, I recall the tortures
Of dying.-Yes, this is no dream!-
And without effort, like a spider web
I push aside my casket's rotting wood
And stand. How bright the winter light appears
In the crypt's doorway! Can I doubt it?-
I see the snow. The crypt's without a door.
It's time to head for home. How stunned they'll be!
I know this park, I cannot lose my way.
But oh how different it looks now!
I hurry. Snowdrifts. Frigid boughs
Of dead trees poke deep into the sky,
There are no tracks or sounds. It's still.
The realm of death in an enchanted world.
And here's my home. But what decay!
I'm shocked by this heartbreaking sight.
The village sleeps beneath a snowy blanket,
There is no path in all the boundless steppe.
Yes, there it is: upon a far-off hill
I see the ancient belfry of the church.
A frozen traveler in the whirling snow,
It stands out clear against the cloudless span.
No winter birds or midges dot the snow.
I understand: the earth has long lain chill
And dead. For whom do I conserve
The breath within my chest? To whom did death
Return me? What's my mind
Connected to? And what's its final purpose?
Where shall I go if there is no one to embrace?
And time has lost itself in space?
O, Death, return! And hasten to assume
The fatal burden of this final life.
And you, stiff corpse of earth take flight
And bear my corpse on the eternal path!
poem by Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter Wonderland
There are strange and mysterious sounds
When the winds of winter blow,
The long nights are crystal clear and cold,
And the fields and meadows are covered with snow.
The stars are frosty against the sky,
And the wind's whistle is shrill,
As the snow blows against the house
And drifts against the hill.
Yet, I like to see during the winter
A white carpet on the ground,
To plod aimlessly in the deep snow,
where deer tracks abound.
I like to feel the stillness
Of a crisp winter's night,
Watching a full moon rise over the horizon,
Exposing a winter wonderland beautiful and bright.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Practising the Anthem
A summer wind blows through the open porch,
And, 'neath the rustling eaves,
A summer light of moonrise, calm and pale,
Shines through a vale of leaves.
The soft gusts bring a scent of summer flowers,
Fresh with the falling dew,
And round the doorway, glimmering white as snow,
The tender petals strew.
Clear through the silence, from a reedy pool
The curlew's whistle thrills;
A lonely mopoke sorrowfully cries
From the far-folding hills.
O lovely night, and yet so sad and strange!
My fingers touch the key;
And down the empty church my Christmas song
Goes ringing, glad and free.
Each sweet note knocks at dreaming memory's door,
And memory wakes in pain;
The spectral faces she had turn'd away
Come crowding in again.
The air seems full of music all around—
I know not what I hear,
The multitudinous echoes of the past,
Or these few voices near.
Ah me! the dim aisle vaguely widens out,
I see me stand therein;
A glory of grey sculpture takes the light
A winter morn brings in.
No more I smell the fragrant jessamine flowers
That flake a moonlit floor;
The rustling night-breeze and the open porch
I hear and see no more.
Great solemn windows, down a long, long nave
Their shadow'd rainbows fling;
Dark Purbeck shafts, with hoary capitals,
In carven archways spring.
And overhead the throbbing organ waves
Roll in one mighty sea,
Bearing the song the herald angels sang
Of Christ's nativity.
Dear hands touch mine beneath the open book,
Sweet eyes look in my face,—
They smile, they melt in darkness; I am snatch'd
From my familiar place.
The summer night-wind blows upon my tears;
Its flowery scent is pain.
O cold, white day! O noble minster—when
May I come back again!
To hear the angels' anthem shake the air,
Where never discord jars,—
The Christmas carols in the windy street,
Under the frosty stars;
The dream-like falling from the still, grey skies,
With falling flakes of snow,
Of mellow chimes from old cathedral bells,
Solemn and sweet and slow.
To hear loved footsteps beating time with mine
Along the churchyard path,—
To see that ring of faces once again
Drawn round the blazing hearth.
When may I come? O Lord, when may I go?
Nay, I must wait Thy will.
Give patience, Lord, and in Thine own best way
My hopes and prayers fulfil.
poem by Ada Cambridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bells Of Christmas
Imagine a boy
Kneeling by the window
Lookin out across the driveway at the rain
Will it always rain
I remember the bells
Comin from the churchyard
And I thought they played their music just for me
And day by day
The rain turned to snow
I dont hear them anymore
The bells of christmas
Will ring for us again
When we truly do believe
What christmas really means
So light a candle
That every man may see
The world of hope and promise
Like the one we knew back when and
Well ring the bells of christmas
Once again
There was a girl
Lived around the corner
With eyes as black as marys must have been
I wonder
Does she miss her friend
I remember the day
All the bells were ringing
As I watched her cross the churchyard in the snow
And all my searching
For all I lack
Is just trying to get that feeling back
The bells of christmas
Will ring for us again
When we truly do believe
What christmas really means
So light a candle
That every man may see
A world of hope and promise
Like the one we knew back when and
Well ring the bells of christmas once again
The future of the world, they say
Is in the childrens hands
Perhaps if we could let them lead
Wed come to understand
The bells of christmas
Will ring for us again
When we truly do believe
What christmas really means
So light a candle that every man may see
Like the one we knew back when and
Well ring the bells of christmas once again
Well ring the bells of christmas once again
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Isn't She Lovely
Isn't she lovely? like a spring morning
Lilacs of purple and white grow in my heart
Oh! too think she is mine
What a wonderful thought!
When the wind howls and the frost comes
When snow falls on the summer fruit
She remains with comfort like a winter fire
Light a fire in the cold of winter, love is warm
Grey days, storms, rain that seems to never quit
A true companion is an eternal garden
Roses grow in smiles of joy
She wears a blue dress
Country smiles, river dreams, music of the sea
I am blessed with the songs of the forest
Isn't she lovely? when the leaves fall
Isn't she lovely? when snow is in her honey hair
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Moonlit Night
Beneath a rather sensuous moon
They made a trail through the snow
Through the woods
That creaked from cold
On that Winter's night
She took the lead
Through feathery snow
That seemed the angels had spilled below
He followed swiftly, keeping pace
They stopped
They held a warm embrace
Upon this winter night
When all seemed calm
When all seemd bright
But most of all
It just seemed right
They trampled snow underneath
He made a bed
Wondering all the time
Could this be done...
On such a cold, cold night?
She offered wineskin sips
To him to warm his soul
And then she kissed him
Long, and deeply...melting snow
They gathered branches and pinecones
They struck a spark
And made a glow
They kindled that which they had known
On moonlit night
In bed of snow.
poem by Dee Daffodil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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