Cold Of The Day
A wisp of smoke from a chimney
drifts high up in the sky.
A small bird wings it south
through a cloudy sky.
A pale sun smiles
through the cold of the day
as people walk around
wishing they were far away,
lying on some warm
sun kissed isle.
Where palm trees sway
instead of walking around
on a cold winter’s day.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wintertime
Winter has come with his cold breeze
Oh how I missed the long nights and cold air
Noble winter do as whatever you please
Some bees hide in their trees
The fauna and flora in winter so rare
Winter has come with his cold breeze
You all mighty of all season that freeze the seas
Warm us with your artic flare
Noble winter do as whatever you please
Oh great winter now that I m on my knees
The snow might have something to spare
Winter has come with his cold breeze
Yesterday was like a gentle kiss
There where so many stars to stare
Noble winter do as whatever you please
So you have brought us many diseases
Now in winter people so scare
Winter has come with his cold breeze
Noble winter do as whatever you please
poem by Ayrtonn Bautista
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Baby Bird
Is it true birds fly south for the winter
Wish i was a bird for just one day
I would fly to and perch on your window
My baby bird flew away
I love you my baby bird
But i had to set you free
I watched you glide with the wind high above the trees
Maybe i could be a boat and sail to your shore
I miss my baby bird
So next winter i will move south
I will look for you in the sky
You are no longer a baby bird as you have grown
Do you now have baby birds of your own
I long to see you again my baby bird my best friend
I wish i was a bird for just one day
I would sore sore so high
Wishing is all i can do for now
How is my baby bird
Do you miss me for i miss you
Bye my baby but not goodbye
Winter Must Be Cold With No Memories
Winter is a lonely season
if you have no one.
The snow lays on the ground,
white and pale as death.
You walk along any beach
see how deserted it can be.
Empty as a broken heart
living in loneliness.
For some winter
must be cold with no memories.
Something to lift the evening chill
to warm summer days
of two hearts entwined.
So winter can be cold
with no memories
of warm and happier times.
28 March 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why I like Spring
Cold air
Trees are bare
Ice on the wall
Snow continues to fall
Cloudy night
Winters blight
Birds gone south
Just up and moved out
Ten below
Shoveling snow
Heavy wet clothes
Common cold cure, nobody knows
Triple high heating bills
Overpriced cough pills
Slick ice all around
One slip and it's to the ground
Stuck in a ditch
Too many clothes to scratch an itch
Cars never warm up
Coffee freezes in the cup
Feet are always cold
Daily scraping ice is getting old...
I don't really mean to complain
So please let me explain:
These are just a few of the things
That give me cause to love the spring.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Winter
Ive seen you, cold winter,
I know you, cold winter.
You showed me no mercy,
Still I shant forget[? ] the warning.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I know you, cold winter,
You broke my heart, cold winter.
I missed you, warm summer,
Never thought Id see you, cold summer.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I thank you, cold winter,
Never leave that game[? ] to lifes story.
You healed me, cold winter,
You taught me how to face the morning.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Becomes Winter
Autumn is becoming Winter,
And as it does everything dies.
Autumn is a slow decay in warm colours,
And Winter is grey and absent.
Some of the redy-brown leaves sit on the trees,
Yet the cold chill sings a song
That could only be the Winter.
It is scarf weather now.
I turn my collar up against the cold and damp.
The Sun has stopped shining all day,
Now we see it for a few hours a day
And then we are entombed in darkness.
You could run to catch up with the Sun,
But you’d never make it.
Be left like ship smoke on the horizon,
Just a spot in the distance.
You cannot escape the Winter.
Autumn is becoming Winter,
And as it does everything dies.
poem by Charlie F. Kane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother Nature Can Be Fickle
Winter’s cold is Mother Nature’s way
Of saying, lie with me now, lay your head on my breast
It’s snow, a blanket under which to lay
Neath a crystal cover, enjoying winter's cold caress
Frost rimed windows … Mother Nature’s art
Icy abstractions painted with frosty finesse
Crystalline concoctions that form only a part
Of Mother Natures wonderful winter largesse
Ice coated limbs of slope shouldered trees
droop drowsily down as if fallen asleep
Unable to sway in winter’s frigid breeze
Appear as white mounds, when the snow drifts deep
The stillness one hears on cold winter nights
Broken by the sudden crack of ice laden boughs
The ethereal essence of undulating northern lights
Headlights in the sky for Nature’s snowplows
All is withdrawn, in awe of Nature’s might
Willingly waiting, deep neath frozen ground
Safely sequestered, from winter’s cruel bite
In warm tunnels and burrows, til spring comes around
Mother Nature invites winter into her domain
Cohabits with coldness, wantonly sleeps with Jack frost
Yet finds cold winter quickly falls to disdain
Invites in the spring…and tells winter to get lost
Mother Nature is fickle…and also the boss!
poem by David Whalen
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Goin South
I think of goin south for the winter
Its getting mighty cold
I watch the fire glow
The moon shining cross the snow
Maybe florida or mexico
Is where I oughta go
Somewhere where everything is green
Oo the change of scene
Might do a me good
When the swallows go
When they leave capistrano
Fly away so gracefully
Maybe thats for me
Snowdrifts blowing up against my door
Going clear up to the roof
I could be lying on some sun-washed shore
Truth is, dont know what Im waiting for
Think Im goin south for the winter
Its getting mighty cold
I watch the fire glow
The moon shinin cross the snow
Maybe florida or mexico
Is where I oughta go
South of the border
Think Im goin south
Get my life in order
Think Im goin south
For the winter
Its gettin mighty cold
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter night and the three little men
Winter Night and The Three Little Men.
The Fire burns bright,
While the woods turn to night.
The cold creeps in with sudden quickness
and trees set in sudden ice.
It is, suffice to say, that this is a cold Winter night.
The fire that night kept warm the three little Men
and cast a light that stayed the predators of that cold winter night.
The cold crept and the Wolves howled but all tried in vain
for the fire kept the three little men safe,
but men are lazy and some call them crazy.
All the same because that winter night was to
be the last for the little three men.
The three little men eyes drooped and finely closed
but the poor men forgot to tend the fire.
The fire went out with a flicker then a splutter
and Winter night crept in;
There was one witness that cold Winter night, the Moon.
Try as she could her brightness could not save the poor
little three Men, that cold Winter night.
Josiah, Lozier
poem by Josiah Lozier
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A Pleasant Day In Gippsland In July
The breeding frogs in the shallow pools are croaking
But they fall silent as near you walk by
Elusive creatures their secrets of survival
Is that they are small and hard to see and shy.
The day is pleasant if a little chilly
Even though the sun is shining in the sky
Still one could easily find a climate more unpleasant
Than South Gippsland in mid Winter in July.
A time of year when growth is all but dormant
Yet every day is one day nearer Spring
And even in the pale weak Winter sunlight
The magpie on a gum tree briefly sing.
It is a pleasant day to walk in Nature
White fronted chats from ground to fence line fly
On Winter months in small flocks they assemble
In rank coastal paddocks where the ground is dry.
On pleasant days in Gippsland in the winter
There's things of natural beauty for to see
And it is nice to walk the gravelly pathway
When the yellow blooms are on the wattle tree.
South Gippsland in Victoria in mid winter
A pleasant day with a slight freshening breeze
And it's not warm although the sun is shining
And the temperatures around fourteen degrees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Weird-Bird
Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, 'It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Don't die this winter
Don't die this unfriendly winter and interrupt it
Unfriendly people should speak and go
It's a cold winter seasons are cousins
They visit one, at the time
Even the world is trembling
is in white dress
Smoke oozing from its mouth
Its cold dry winter
And all the seasons are on succession
It's a windy winter
Its hard to live
This winter is unusual
It freeze the pockets of the pocketers
Is a cloudy winter and sun is scarcity
We are all out for it
We all hunt it like hunters
And hunted like an animal
When we find it
We lean on the walls like lizards
Its winter of winters
All our cloths are on us and still freezing
It's a Monday of this winter
No one in school and everywhere else
Coldness blare our idea
No birds and animals out
It's freezing to death
Don't die this winter
If you die you might be buried with ice
And snore will be the congregation
Wind will be a choir
It's a winter of questions
If you die today
You will not receive attention you need
Peter will be on fire and other gatekeepers
No one will welcome you in heaven
When you go to hell
Devil will be unfriendly too
he doesn't like visitors on winter
he will ask you to light up your own fire
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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Sunday Morning - IV
She says, "I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
As April's green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow's wings.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Cold Day
I woke up today I couldn't feel
My self like I slept on ice
I usually make a selection
Of the lucky number of
The day but
today I did not
Roll the dice
Your my warmth for when your
Not there my world migrates to
South pole
Your all I need in my life
For without you there is
No life for me like in a
Cold world
When your there we walk
Happily in strides when
You are not there I ice skate alone
What a cold day am having
I cant spend minuet without
Looking at you though when your
Not there I have a gallery of you
In my head
If I had not met you till today
For my birthday I would be asking for new
Shoes but all am asking for now is your love
We are never alone I keep wishing we would be alone
The water so calm and sparkly wishing we would
Go and live there together only if we had gills
Every time you smile that's the light
Of my day that's why I always keep
You smiling if you don't smile my
Day is so cold and based on a dark
Corner and am as the same as being
Blind for when your not there I have
A cold day
poem by Atlay Mwenifumbo
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The Cold Winds Of January
Last night in my dreams i did hear the winds roar
Above the old high fields of far Claramore
A cold Winter moon crept behind clouds to hide
And on the bleak hillside the hungry fox cried
And a bird so distinctive even in his wild cry
The screech of the barn owl echoed in the sky
A Winter's night in January by old Clara hill
The howling of the wind drowned out the babble of the rill
That towards the big river downland ever does flow
Through many a field and by many a hedgerow
Old jack frost of January is in the cold air
And the hedgerows and deciduous trees of their foliage are bare
And the cold winds of January in the dead of night roar
Above the old bare fields of high Claramore.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Here Comes The Summer Sun Again
It is still a cold January,
but it won't be long
until summer comes along.
Feeding the Flowers
Feeding the Trees
Feeding all the creatures.
I am a little impatient
to get out on the golf course
and feel the warm energy of the sun,
the very thing that drives the planet,
the TV's, the radio's, the vegetation,
every watt of power comes straight from it's source.
Walking down the street or on the lush grass,
smelling the sweet heat.
Hearing the lawnmowers and music playing loud and live.
Tasting the ice lollies and strawberries.
seeing beautiful sunsets which make you
feel glad you're still alive.
Even now, though it's still winter,
the thought of summer makes me smile,
and imagine it's warmth for a while,
wishing it was here,
and i'm sitting in the garden
nursing a cold beer.
poem by Andrew Matthews
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I want to be warm so freaking bad
I want to be warm so freaking bad
While the big winter freeze sets in
All this condensation and precipitation
With little perspiration and evaporation
Everywhere I go
There are blankets of white snow
I am indoors having phone conversations
With minus freezing temperature
The cold affects every living creature
This is the cold side of nature
When little drops of water have an adventure
I want to be warm so freaking bad
That's why I can not get out of bed
In houses hide the mass populations
While the nation is in depression
Faced with buses and train cancellations
Right now I face hibernation
When I open my doors
The cold wind blows hardcore
It bites into my bones
And I retreat back home alone
I want to be warm so freaking bad
That's why my heating is constantly on
I want to be warm so freaking bad
That's why I have so many clothes on
Because every time I open my windows
I don't need a pair of binoculars
To see that walking on thin ice
Is not a comforting struggle
I want to be warm so freaking bad
And I know my thoughts are not all that mad
I want to be warm so freaking bad
While the big winter freeze sets in so bad
poem by Sylvia Chidi (2010)
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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
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Playing.
Blowing trees,
From pillar to post
Careless wisp and sway.
Ancient songs of night and day.
Blowing trees,
From post to pillar.
The wearied, yet fresh soothsayer.
Witchdoctor on high
Of fears yet to come.
Blowing trees!
The sway of old worlds,
Unravelling like gales,
Out to sea.
poem by Peter Vealey
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Winter Breeze
The winter breeze
Seems frigid to me.
As I sit in the park
All alone.
The limbs of the trees,
Don't sway or move
Along with the winter breeze...
The tire swing moves,
Occupant free...
While the leaf barren trees
Shiver in the winter breeze.
Even the most playful and darring children,
Wont be caught in the cold.
This winter breeze
Seems frigid to me....
I cant wait for spring....
poem by Ashley Wade
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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