Related quotes: Miserable grey, damp wet Days...

Days

Miserable grey, damp wet Days
Days shorter and winters Long
Long bleak dark Evenings
Evenings as black as pitch.

Bright frosty cold Mornings
Mornings glistening in the Sun
Sun shines cold as the Day
Day soon will become night.

Snow crisp and White
White flurries fall from the Sky
Sky as white as the Day
Day fades into a crisp evening.

Days engulfed with Floods
Floods devastating your Home
Home unfit to live In
In shelter we seek comfort.

poem by Hazel Connelly
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Related quotes

Black and White (Stream XV)

I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?

For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.

poem by Paul Brookes
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Now Those Times Are Here Again (from Minutes of Falling Days)

Now those times are here again
When the days will become darker
And in the hearts of various men
Yesterdays shall become sparker

When the snow will fall and glow
Bringing chilliness and holidays
As each month to darkness will go
In the glisten down falling glaze

When the snow is back in here
Silvery white on a frozen earth
For now this time’s coming near
With its mistletoes and mirth

With its snow-white cold ice
Bracing windows in a frosty rose
Morning dark and twilight skies
When on treetops cold wind blows

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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White Christmas (Life Poem)

Grey skies, contrasting bone-white tree skeletons,
Trudging home for Christmas is an endless nightmare,
Second night hotel-less on a Heathrow bed-less floor,
The crisp white snowiness of home but a distant hope,
Media revels in this travellers’ misery, so switch off,
I think I will head home somewhat earlier next year,
This snow bound, homeward bound, hopeless man.

poem by Ian Beckett
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It’s April

It’s April and the autumn rain
patters down for days long,
the Magalies Mountains are covered
by grey-black clouds

and later there are summer days
where the sun still hangs white-hot
and I long, want the summer
to last forever

but the years are already
leaving their marks on my face,
are drawing through my hair
and like some of the trees

in a winter I will also turn skeleton,
become stripped from my better days
and then at a time
will be part of the cold earth.

poem by Gert Strydom
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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
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Winter and Summer

Winter
Snow covered
Days grow shorter
Fun filled snow days
Cold bitter season of warmth
Long days of relaxation
Days grow longer
No school
Summer

poem by Kristina Lybbert
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Incantation

A white well
In a black cave;
A bright shell
In a dark wave.

A white rose
Black brambles hood;
Smooth bright snows
In a dark wood.

A flung white glove
In a dark fight;
A white dove
On a wild black night.

A white door
In a dark lane;
A bright core
To bitter black pain.

A white hand
Waved from dark walls;
In a burnt black land
Bright waterfalls.

A bright spark
Where black ashes are;
In the smothering dark
One white star.

poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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World of White

When I woke up this morning
My world was layered in white
So cold it was and very still
Snow had fallen through the night

No birds chirped a good morning
The bugs were hidden away
Instead was this harsh cold
I felt as though it would stay

I could barely see my lawn chair
For white had settled so thick
I wished I had seen it fall
This snow as it began to stick

The trees and bushes were
A fresh and lovely sight
Snow decorated the branches
Making winter look just right

We must enjoy the changes
So lovely and cold and bright
It will not last for long
This wonderful world of white!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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Lightning

Its crazy but often clear
But often clear
We shimmer and disappear
In color, in black and white
Black and white
We slowly fade out of sight
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights all were white
Its crazy but somehow clear
Somehow clear
We ride in silence out of fear
We spoke and soon come alive
Come alive
We prefer the silence of the blind
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights all were white
These days were lit by lightning
Of sharp,light,sharp,white,light,hard,good,white
Were crazy but often kind
Often kind
Enrage and in violence blind
You gather, and that alone
That alone
We race in small circles home
But these days were lit by lightning
These lights are were white
These days were lit by lightning
Of sharp, white, light
These days were lit by lightning
These lights are were white
These days were lit by light

song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Christmas

(words & music by irving berlin)
Im dreaming of a white christmas,
Just like the ones I used to know.
Where those tree-tops glisten,
And children listen
To hear sleighbells in the snow.
Im dreaming of a white christmas,
With every christmas card I write,
May your days be merry and bright,
And may all your christmases be white.
Im dreaming of a white christmas,
Just like the ones I used to know.
May your days may your days may your days be merry and bright,
And may all your christmases be white.

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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November

Remember November
its leaves are
orange, red and gold
a melody of colour
just before the chill.

Sometimes its warmth
is like a crisp spring day
or the last of September
and yet winter is close
like a dark shadow.

Winter, lit with a medley
of scents, of mulled wine,
hot toddies, Xmas puddings
to light the days
and dark evenings

It brings pictures
of childhood memories
of cold mists, coal fires,
Bonfire nights
mistletoe and Christmas trees,

Teenage parties
are long gone now
new beaux, new dresses,
expectations of love,
a kiss at a cold doorway.

What are your dreams
my little ones,
where will November
lead you to?
Take a leap of faith.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Drifting Sun

Music :ulrich roth
Lyrics:ulrich roth
Well, Im sitting on a stone
Sitting all alone
Daisies are rolling down the mountain
Well see the lonesome tramp
Whos living in the damp
Nobodys in the valley
Shine on, shine on sun
Oh its so cold right here
Shine on, shine on sun
Shine on all night long
All night long
Baby doll, Im sad and blue
Glossy wings will carry you
Well, midnight sun will never shine
These ravings of a fool
Youre thinking all about him all the time
Shine on, shine on sun
Oh its so cold right here
Shine on, shine on sun
Shine on all night long, all night long
All night long, yeah
One day baby told you sun just fades away
Forgot your life is fading, now hes in the grave
Some days like drifting haze
Some days like glowing blaze
Some days like tides of light
Some days like tides of night
One day baby told you sun just fades away
Forgot your life is fading, now hes in the grave
Some days like drifting haze
Some days like glowing blaze
Some days like tides of light
Some days like tides of night
Travelling along a tropic highway
Crazy as the world goes round and round
Hallowed heaven, night or day
Burning thing has putting the sun away
Shine on, shine on sun
Let it shine on all night long
Shine on, shine on sun
Let it shine on all night long

song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scenes from a New England Winter

Streams of black winding there way from here to there
cutting through a field of white
trees struggling with all their might against the soft white invader
as people stop and stare

cars turned into moving mounds of snow
people hurrying off to some secret place to go
the softness of sounds in the cold
this is winter to me

the sun a creates such a glare against the snow
your breath a frosty mist hanging in the air
people bundled up tight against the cold
eyes blinking against the white

the crunch of snow under a boot, the laughter of children
home from school, all decked out in their new snow suit
the far off drone of a snow blower says work is near
winter, in New England a time to hold dear

poem by Jim Milks
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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
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Old Man's Nursery Rhyme

In the jolly winters
Of the long-ago,
It was not so cold as now--
O! No! No!
Then, as I remember,
Snowballs, to eat,
Were as good as apples now,
And every bit as sweet!

II.

In the jolly winters
Of the dead-and-gone,
Bub was warm as summer,
With his red mitts on,--
Just in his little waist-
And-pants all together,
Who ever heard him growl
About cold weather?

III.

In the jolly winters of the long-ago--
Was it _half_ so cold as now?
O! No! No!
Who caught his death o' cold,
Making prints of men
Flat-backed in snow that now's
Twice as cold again?

IV.

In the jolly winters
Of the dead-and-gone,
Startin' out rabbit-hunting
Early as the dawn,--
Who ever froze his fingers,
Ears, heels, or toes,--
Or'd a cared if he had?
Nobody knows!

Nights by the kitchen-stove,
Shelling white and red
Corn in the skillet, and
Sleepin' four abed!
Ah! the jolly winters
Of the long-ago!
We were not so old as now--
O! No! No!

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Its Winter again

It’s not yet snow but I can smell it
Sounds of rubbing hands and bodies freezing
The sip of hot coffee and closed window panes
Looks like its winter again

Snow and fog and the feeling of cold
Snow and fog and celebrations unfold
The late sunlight brings thousands of smiles
The early evenings and the silent miles and miles

The train whistles and only whistles
The windows are closed with passengers and shivers
The touch of wool and the warmth at home
And outside it’s a snowstorm

Its time to celebrate these cold evenings
Entire world celebrates, as there are many things winter brings
The coziness of bed
The unmatched taste of hot bread
Those pink and white colours everywhere
And the walk through that cold air

Winter is here to make all of us smile
Winter is here to stay for a little while
Winter is here for celebrations
Winter is here for hot chocolate temptations

poem by Amita Singh
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A Reunion

Often a man's life is such
that he seldom sees his friends,
like the night and day
never sharing the same hours
In the skies
Seldom does he share
His evenings with friends
Or his mornings
His lamp light unshared
His mornings unspent
How long will this
Distance last?

Hairs have turned
White and lesser
As we inquire about
Friends and other
Acquaintances only
To find out that half of
Them have turned
To ghosts,

Shocks and torments
Of this heart, cries
But I will try again
To enter your home
Twenty five years
And now you have
Two sons and three
Daughters to greet
Me by the door
I thought you never
Married and they all
Kiss my hands and
Before I can ask the
Questions you drive
Them off to the grounds
To play away from us
As we talk about
Lasting friendships
And how we have
Almost forgotten them

Tomorrow I will be drunk
Again back to my own
Affairs in the big city
We will be separated
Again by these peaks
Of mountains and we
Shall again lose each
Other’s friendly views.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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240

a reunion

Hairs have turned
White and lesser
As we inquire about
Friends and other
Acquaintances only
To find out that half of
Them have turned
To ghosts,

Tomorrow I will be drunk
Again back to my own
Affairs in the big city
We will be separated
Again by these peaks
Of mountains and we
Shall again lose each
Other’s friendly views.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paradise the planets of bliss

Paradise is the planets of bliss
The home of God’s Body
The garden of Beauty
It is full of good flora and fauna
And made of gold, silver and precious other things

There are fountains and streams in paradise
They are also signs of God’s superb workmanship

There is morning, noontime and evening in paradise
But there is no night
At noontime it is full of silver light
In the morning and in the evening
Tints of various colors are visible in its sky

In paradise
The evenings are more colorful than the mornings
And the mornings are more refreshing than the evenings

The residential area of the poor people of paradise is near its gates
The middle class people live in the middle area of paradise
The high-class people live at the end of paradise.

There is currency in paradise and many market places
To buy things of one's choice
Where all salespersons are angels

The residential area of the prophets and the like
Is at the end of Ferdous paradise
Wherefrom God’s main court
Laohay Mahfuz and Sidratul Muntaha are nearby.

poem by Asif Andalib
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Can't Change the Weather

Crisp and white and cold
It was a beautiful snowy day
Life seemed devoid of turmoil
As I watched the ducks at play

Trees covered in their lacy winter white
The sky was gray with threatening snow
And yet a bit of white peaked through
It was the best kind’a day I know

And as I drove across a bridge
Slush was forming and the snow rearranged
It seemed as though there was a pause
I knew something was about to change

I love the changing of the weather
A cold and blowing storm
And then as quick as fingers snap
It would be sunny and sweet and warm

I guess whatever the season
Or whatever the weather right now
We might as well just settle in
Can’t change the weather anyhow!