Inspired by Issa - Winter Wind
winter wind -
pet cat hogs
its warmth
winter wind
her hands in his
warm her up
winter wind
enveloping her hands
the warmth of his heart
winter wind -
pet cat reclines
in its warmth
inspired by
winter wind-
wearing a straw bag
on Mount Hakone
-Issa,1813
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Related quotes
Winter's sun
There is something about the winter's sun,
That aspires hope after struggle
The wait for tomorrow after
long cold shivering nights;
is the optimism attached
to the winter's sun.
There is something about the winter's sun.
The Florescence of the beaming rays
the calmness of the flowing sunshine:
convinces me about the warmth,
of the winter's sun
There is something about the winter's sun.
The tender hugging of the sunbeams
on the exposed numb body:
confirms about the comfort provided
by the winter's sun
There is something about the winter's sun.
Those for whom is the winter's suffering
the warmth of the sun is also for them.
Relieving them that, a part of the
sunshine belongs to them
Of the winter's sun.
poem by Azmat Naushad Asif

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Entrails Of Autumn
The sun shone through the window
giving a reality of warmth
as outside people shivered.
The wind lifted hats,
turned umbrellas inside out
as people walked quickly in the rain
wishing they were in doors
in with the warmth again.
This was the entrails of autumn
before winter comes to call.
The season of rain, wind,
and leaves from trees fall,
the season of dying colours
before winter spreads its virgin white
across everything in sight.
The entrails of autumn
before winter comes to call.
5 November 2009
poem by David Harris

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Late Winter
This Winter came so late,
It hasn't even come,
The warmth still remains,
From late Autumn,
At thirteen it stays,
No frost, wind or coldness,
No shrill in the voices of men,
As they stare into the oncoming snow,
The breeze and quality ice,
Nothing... nothing at all...
It doesn't feel like Winter,
It feels like Late Winter,
That the control panel,
For Winter has been overridden,
Taken over, not knowing when,
How, or even why to start,
Journal burnt in Autumn,
Crisp, warm weather,
Nothing remains,
No snow walks, evenings by the fire,
Staying away from the cold,
So warm...
Please, Late Winter,
Arrive, we're waiting,
So real Winter can begin,
At full speed, steaming ahead,
Faster than the world can take it,
Late Winter... arrive...
poem by Viraj Bhanshaly

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God Have Pity (Roundel)
In the winter wind, death is at the window,
to the homeless its is very unkind
while its blowing blizzards of snow.
In the winter wind
it gathers whatever it can freezing find;
God have pity on them whom it blows,
even on animals that man has left behind,
when no humanity does somewhere glow,
when no bonds does men to each other bind
and unheard tears do only freezing flow
in the winter wind.
poem by Gert Strydom

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Sizzle My Heart
Ignite my heart to the call of winter
Each wisp of the wind marks one step
to the depth of the season
Ignite my heart to the change
Cold winter nights~stillness so deep
Crackling leaves
Bare empty limbs
Wind chimes dance to the call of the wind
Mighty winter is upon us soon
poem by C.G. Lovelady

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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

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A Winter Message
A flake of snow in flurry thro’ the air
Had landed as a kiss upon my cheek:
A secret message, just for me to share;
To take to heart but never dare to speak
About or presuppose to other eyes
Your open feelings – distant though they are.
And so, upon your lips, my OWN surprise:
A flake of snow returned from me afar.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
winter winter winter winter icy winter
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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From A Diary
8th June:
wind lashes
an oak
in the
foreground
of dark grey
clouds
an old crow
labours against
the gusts
winter like-
except
for the warmth
of a crazy wind
poem by Liam ó Comáin

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Winter’s Morn
Feeling the sting of winter’s whip
and the taste of salt in my throat,
I walk the desolate beach
with only the cry of gulls
for my only company.
Winter strikes no harmony
with its bleak frown
as my eyes revel
at only wind swept litter
from happier sunny days.
The grey has replaced the bright;
warmth has relinquished to shiver
as I walk along alone
on this a winter’s morn.
12 February 2011
poem by David Harris

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Wind, wind everywhere
Wind here, wind there, wind wind everywhere.
In the trees, in the grass, wind comes to pass.
It cools off in summer, freezes in winter, and all in between.
Wind brings clouds and rain for the drain.
poem by Hannah Barton

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Nobody knows.
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
Where the wind comes from
Or where the wind goes
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
Where the wind carries
The white winter snows
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
What the wind whispers
To black feathered crows
No one can tell me
Nobody knows
Where the wind comes from
Or where the wind blows.
poem by J.A McManus

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The Cruel Winds of Winter
Got up this morning, no sun in my eyes,
The house is so cold, no warmth to the fire,
My love is gone, he took all my desire,
And cruel winds of winter howled all night.
My love could warm me in the coldest time,
Bring the light of day to the darkest night,
As tears of my sorrow fall from my eyes,
The cruel winds of winter cry in delight.
Pull on my coat, keep the chill from my side,
I walk by the sea, the salt stings my eye,
The caps are all gray, like clouds in the sky,
And with those cruel winds of winter, I cry.
As tears of my sorrow fall to the sand,
My love is not here to warn my cold hand,
He’s gone like the sun from this harsh, gray land,
And only the wind seems to understand.
This endless winter has replaced his light,
My sweet love gone, no warmth in my sight,
I drift lost and lonely, no sleep I find,
Still those winds cry with me deep in the night.
My heart so heavy, life has no delight,
And the cruel winds of winter, torment my night.
poem by Teresa Dearing

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An Italian Sonnet: How spring fell into winter
In my childhood spring blew a vivacious wind;
Soaring onto all life with magnanimous form,
Emancipating the flowers from winter's rough storm.
It flew capriciously and landed upon my skin.
How immaculate the wind of spring blew
Possessing an efficacy which passed with grace.
My soul reverberated it, when all life grew.
Until spring passed; winter's wind stung my face.
My innocence then ventured into winter's cold night:
All sunlight has fallen with the snow,
The life from spring lost their glow.
I became lost fighting in winter's blight.
The years have past in winter's flow
Until i recognized my own inner sunlight.
poem by Andrew Burant

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Worth This Winter
by Ahmed Nakib
And these buildings wearing out this winter’s heart –
each one has long stood like a colossal winter,
limbs of these lie frozen stiff in the fog, their
windowpanes as if chunks of ice – endlessly melting away.
Up on the roof of another, we watch out for all these –
that’s another boulder of winter, too. Overwhelmed,
we all are praising this winter’s loveliness,
with hands deep into pockets, clutching hard
at all of our warm clothes worth any winter.
Down, way down at the basements of these buildings,
people are rushing to the rhythm of insects,
the winter has skidded underneath their feet,
stuck in the ground, in every stride of theirs.
And these buildings wearing out this winter’s heart –
each one has long stood like a colossal winter.
Translated by Sofiul Azam
poem by Sofiul Azam

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Winter Pulp
The cadence of the wind striding
Resembles that of the restive exhaustion
Of the children wearing mittens
Beyond the Sun’s cold leash –
Or the chortling of the elders
As they read the newspapers
Subtly sitting on a suede chair
Relishing in the façade of the brazen
Winter, and every pulp of sodden glacier.
My hands are tremulous as the cold vapor
Of the bottle I am holding schemes
With the allure of the winter fate
Or winter serendipity and defeat me
With a foray that none can match
And that is – to render me wholly alone
With partial, fragmented hope that
Cannot be resuscitated and form a city
Of erratic allegories.
Yes, the winter pulp
I have been there – the winter’s pulp
Clothes me as if I am a sartorial man of erudition,
Poise and grace,
When I am just one of the pulps of winter –
Forgotten,
And disconsolate.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

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Dolce Far Niente, A Sequel
remember our fog walk
of a winter morning...?
our hands closely clasped
spreading warmth into each other
we took each step together
into a zero visibility ahead
whenever a sudden wind
blew on our winter-bitten cheeks
didn't the clasp tighten?
how our fingers released
stars shining brighter
than those up above!
we took each step
with those stars guiding us...
* for karin anderson...thnq so much for suggesting a sequel. i lived each word that went into this...
10nov2009
12.24hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati

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Tanya
Cold and dreary, dark and alone
Wind wailing thru the icy night
Dragging on and on
So reluctant to leave
Mad and angry to be forced to go
One last storm, one last night
Winter steals her away
Winter likes to go alone
Goodbye winter
Now all seems calm
But it's just the silence of the ones
Left struggling in your wake
Trying to put to rest
Winter
And carry her memory through spring
Goodbye
Winter
Your price was too high.
Ode on Winter
The Whispering wind blows beside me,
And the chirping birds softly sing their song,
The living leaves of Gaia no longer we see,
As winter has come and it seeks to live long.
The tunes of winter sung by wolves,
And its liveliness’ shown by fog,
The dance of winter preformed by ghouls,
Oh winter, thy shall now have thy own synagogue.
poem by Aditya Mudbhary

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Child of the Winter
The wind is calling me
The rain cries out my name
I am a child of the winter
The shivering of leaves
Dancing of the grass
The sparkling of droplets
Gathered on cold branches-
These are my home.
The wind is calling me
To come and dance again
On the sleeping ground.
Can you hear the promise?
Soon the rain will bring new life
Warmth will fill the wind
And I will flit away to a new home
poem by Bonnie Shipman

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The starry three sisters
The starry three sisters
are rising overhead
and the hot day
is dead.
The winter night chills
and spreads ripe,
over grass and plants.
There’s a playful
charm to the icy wind,
that stir some fallen leaves.
Your smile
has its own warmth
and the taste of your lips,
are sweet and soft.
Your eyes has a glimmer
that sparks to the soul
and where love burns,
no winter can chill.
poem by Gert Strydom

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