A Wisp Of Mist
Was that a wisp of mist I saw, swirling across the lawn,
Drifting through the shrubbery, this early November’s dawn.
Frost had gathered on the grass, making it all crisp and white,
And so a chilly day has shown a vision of delight.
Winter’s fingers are moving and the land begins to freeze,
Dressed in a silver blanket by nature’s great expertise.
Icy world of sparkle, a unique transformation seen,
As a wisp of mist goes swirling slowly across the green.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Related quotes
Belong
Autumns gold and green,
is a joy to behold,
swirling mist shrouding the land,
as the heron surveys rich pickings below,
we will walk out to winter,
dressed in white and ready for the long sleep
Nature can be a cruel mistress when provoked,
but I remain calm in her serene beauty all the same
poem by Simon Thorpe
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Glorious Winter
Come, oh most glorious Winter
Be quick to lay your silence down
Blanket us with your white coverlet
And i will wear my Green Christmas gown...
We will revel in your snowflakes-
Delight in a skate upon your iced over pond
Build forts and ramparts with much glee
Form a White Winter Bond...;
Come, oh most glorious Winter
We welcome your haunting White Noise...
All your white lanes all aglitter
Trees branches weighted-with White Winter Poise;
All agleaming and crisp making...
Comes thru the Decembers quick air
Completely dressed up in your Winter White
Oh, most Glorious White Winter, so fair!
poem by Theodora Onken
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November
November month of fog and mists.
The early mornings have a bite
the silver grass by Jack Frost kissed
in the dark hours of the night.
The sun reluctant slow to rise
His winter rays no longer warm
that frost persists is no surprise.
This is the calm before the storm.
Winter advances openly
no power can withstand its might
What has to be will come to be
A winter world of black and white.
Though advent justifies a feast
the winter cares not in the least.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Flash of Life
I don't remember those days
That room has been re-painted
So many times since then
In so many different ways
She just vanished in the air
Like a wisp of smoke circling
Swirling, then gone forever
I never thought I would care
Her smile was all too fleeting
It became a speck of dust
Landing somewhere on the floor
The proof was my heart beating
Then I peeked into that room
There was no paint on those walls
A wisp became her in flesh
And she smiled at me, her groom
A snap and seventy years
I never saw her again
Anywhere or anytime
She left me with just my tears
poem by Paul H Nelson
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A Gentle Thaw
Thick the mist at early morning's dawn,
Cold the chill that enters by the door,
White the frost, that lies, across the lawn,
Each one piercing, striking to the core
Of one's whole being. Then wakes the foggy morn,
Where sunshine will in time, melt frost on haw,
And rouse the sleeping field mouse in the corn,
By dripping water down upon his paw.
He'll scuttle off, expression all forlorn,
To leave the day to begin its gentle thaw.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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A Child
Little wisp of wonderment,
All the world your doll!
Hugging it in huge content,
Little wisp of wonderment;
Life has only laughter sent—
Everything is droll:
Little wisp of wonderment,
All the world your doll.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
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The Autumn Morning
See! the pale autumn dawn
Is faint, upon the lawn
That lies in powdered white
Of hoar-frost dight
And now from tree to tree
The ghostly mist we see
Hung like a silver pall
To hallow all.
It wreathes the burdened air
So strangely everywhere
That I could almost fear
This silence drear
Where no one song-bird sings
And dream that wizard things
Mighty for hate or love
Were close above.
White as the fog and fair
Drifting through the middle air
In magic dances dread
Over my head.
Yet these should know me too
Lover and bondman true,
One that has honoured well
The mystic spell
Of earth’s most solemn hours
Wherein the ancient powers
Of dryad, elf, or faun
Or leprechaun
Oft have their faces shown
To me that walked alone
Seashore or haunted fen
Or mountain glen
Wherefore I will not fear
To walk the woodlands sere
Into this autumn day
Far, far away.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Lush Green Dew - Duncan Wyllie & Ernestine Northover
The lush green dew that rises.
The mist that covers the lawn.
Droplets of water declare.
Dancers that rise in the morn
swirling. The patterns escape
dreamily into the air.
Oceans of clouds hanging, drape,
having not one single care.
Sun rising o’er the garden,
filling each dewdropp with light.
No heart could ever harden
to this beauty in our sight,
of lush green dew that rises.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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In Winter's Arms
Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
and kissed my breath with frost upon the pane.
Subdued by touch of winter's frigid hand,
I pray for spring to find me once again.
O'wind, you whistle to the winter's tune.
Your melody is heard 'pon day and night,
but one day spring will come to rescue me,
and wisk away your song of winter's blight.
O'tree, you're frozen in the winter's dream.
Your leaves have left you 'neath a moon of white,
but when my prayers are answered 'pon spring's dawn,
you'll thaw beneath its sun with warm delight.
O'field, your harvest has been reaped and spent ~
and winter blankets you 'neath snowy mounds.
Yet one day soon in springtime's rising mist
you'll feel the greening of your earth rebound.
Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
and kissed my breath with frost upon the pane ~
but deep within I somehow always know,
that spring will come and find me once again.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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A Winter Smile
The first icy mist of morning covered the land
With foggy, hazy, vague and blur memories of the Autumn
Where silence is deafening
Ans winter frost are chilly and deep.....
where vale of grief is lonely
And frost wind of mid winter looks cold and gray
And freshly fallen snow
Warms up the nostalgic memories.........
Where imagination helps to add a tint and a shade of life
And show the color of miracles on the garden covered with snow
And springs the hope in our hearts and souls
To bring us a whisper of joy and a winter smile........
And all this takes us on the momentary trip
Of an emotional journey of life
Where we can hear the echo and sounds of silence
And a hand full of memories from the gray and frosty winter mist........
Seema Chowdhury
23rd Nov,2010
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Relearning Winter
Hello Winter, hello flanneled
blanket of clouds, clouds
fueled by more clouds, hello again.
Hello afternoons,
off to the west, that silver
of sunset, rust-colored
and gone too soon.
And night (I admit to a short memory)
you climb back in with chilly fingers
and clocks, and there is no refusal:
ice cracks the water main, the garden hose
stiffens, the bladed leaves of the rhododendron
shine in the fog of a huge moon.
And rain, street lacquer,
oily puddles and spinning rubber,
mist of angels on the head of a pin,
hello,
and snow, upside-down cake of clouds,
white, freon scent, you build
even as you empty the world of texture-
hello to this new relief,
this new solitude now upon us,
upon which we feed.
poem by Mark Svenvold
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Hard Hearted November
A cold grey mist…
Tiptoes aimlessly about
It's only companions
A few scudding clouds
That mill thru the sky
And wander without
And cast shadows
Upon farm fields and wilds
Tis the hard heart of November
A month as indecisive as mist
A month so incisive….bestowed
with the caprice of a witch
Which has by mistake
Or perhaps by misgiving
Allowed to endow us
The day of Thanksgiving
And once realized
That a mistake has been made
Takes a cold vow
That this won't be forgiven
So it beckons to December
In a voice chill and shrill
And bades it remember
And sure December will…
Give ear to November's
Entreaty so bold…
That December not delay
To bring on the cold
Then reclines November
In supine repose
Gives carte blanche to Jack Frost
To nip anyone's nose
Pulls up blanket of mist
Lies down her head
Then cooly welcomes December
…Into her bed…
poem by David Whalen
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Winter Sonnet
WINTER SONNET
Winter's white cloak is wrapped round the high peaks,
Rosily tinting, blushing at daybreak,
Icing the shallows of young mountain creeks,
Echoing calls from bittern and corncrakes.
Drunk on the freshness of icy, cold air,
Who could not love the silence of snowfall?
Drifing like pillows and nothing's astir,
Covering the hillsides with virgin-like shawl.
Some bright days sparkle with showers of ice,
Diamonds adorn the moss and the grass blades,
Rivers run swiftly through wild paradise,
Swirling through forests before daylight fades.
Everything's clear, so black and so white,
A monochrome season full of delight.
30.1.08
poem by Lesley Diane Sutherland
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Mist Upon the Placid Morn
Bleed out your beauty, Autumn –
Give up a gentle wrist, and smear
Your bloody hues atop the green.
Cast a calming throw of heady peace
Upon the cooling land.
And as you grant the sun a final fling of warmth,
Charge the silent air
(Now lolling on a foliar deathbed)
With earthen whiff to intimate the fungal push.
Soon you’ll send a shiver down the watery spine of
Quivering ponds, punctual brooks, and
Listless lakes, to warn them of the freeze to come.
Behold! your mellow spirit
Hanging as a mist upon the placid morn –
A sight that draws a sneaking tear or two – forlorn
Observers are we all of colder climes to view!
Autumn Lady, must you be the summer waning –?
Our adieu to fairer-weather life?
Ah well, at least you hum a warming tone, ensuring
Nature’s rhythm still abounds.
But now you must prepare the mind for chilly times –
You know the drill –
Guiding us along a sloping path
To ease our psyche in to sleet and snow –
The blue-ice bite of winter.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Wisp of love
O' wisp of love
so delicate,
barely
discernable
burgeoning cautiously
perhaps
predetermined
by fate
O' wisp of love
cries out
to be heard
regardless of
it's destiny,
irrational as it may be
O' wisp of love
refuses to be still
ever stirring within us
which ever way it befalls
it will be....
it must be.
T. Labbe`
Winterval for M 'lady Ernestine.
The whirling swirling flakes of snow.
Fall silently but ceaselessly.
Creating havoc here below.
Mother Nature intends to show
The human race that they can see
The whirling swirling flakes of snow.
Wherever they may choose to go.
She demonstrates this ruthlessly
Creating havoc here below.
What traffic moves is crawling slow.
As drivers find it hard to see.
The whirling swirling flakes of snow
Reflect their headlights pallid glow.
Reducing visibility
Creating havoc here below.
Assisted by the winds that blow
at intervals quite randomly.
The whirling swirling flakes of snow
creating havoc here below.
Tuesday,30 November 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Cigarette
A Cigarette
Dawn, yes and the mist, what else do you
expect on lake Martin early and summer?
Swamp cypress dripping with Spanish moss.
I have stopped rowing, water swirling around
Oar blades, the silence is absolute I dare not
Inhale, a bird shrieks, the lake shudders
An evil thought has entered Paradise, I hear
The faint noise of outboard motors,
The moment of ethereal stillness has gone,
I lit a cigarette inhale deeply, exhale and blow
Rings a pure delight into morning air.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Wil-O-the-Wisp
Enchanted Wil-O-The Wisp Wanderer
You cannot escape his sea-blue
Eyes View
For set in water they are
Upon this beautiful form
Of You
Cladden In White Chantilly Lace
A flowing gown of floral crochet
But somewhat sheer in certain light
Seen in his eye near the bay
You walk along the sands O' time
Upon the shorelines
Passing Scene
O' enchanted Wil-O-The-Wisp Wanderer
You are the woman of his dreams
His sea of blue eyes come calling
Beckoning you away from the shore
Perhaps, anew, A Mermaid borne
And a Wil -O- The- Wisp Wanderer
No More
poem by Theodora Onken
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Night frost
Night frost
~
I watch through the window
The night frost roll out
Encasing the world slowly
Plants wither away
Gardens turn white
Parked cars sink beneath
The white tapestry of winter
A beautiful savagery
Emerges before my eyes
The night frost is unforgiving
Yet captivates me
I watch through a window
In sleepless fascination
The beauty of a world
In transformation
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Love Has Its Seasons
A cool chill sweeps through the air
winter is approaching
soon the grass will have a blanket of white
nights will get longer
then soon it will be over for another year.
Spring will be with us
new growth will spring up from the ground
the days will get warmer
when summer once again appears
spreading its colours everywhere.
Then it is back into autumn once more
and the chilly air that it brings.
Love has its seasons also to share
sometimes it can be frosty
and winter chills fill the air
it can be cold
like the white blanket of snow.
Love can be like spring
imparting new life as it begins to grow.
The glow that if offers
is like the warming summer sun
that blossoms into beauty
before the ravages of autumn come
and the years trickle away.
poem by David Harris
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