Rainbow Snow
Rainbow snow
Once I saw rainbow snow falling like a carpet woven by angels
with time on their lily pale hands. A white winter hare sat on
its haunches taking in this strange sight. There are men with
shotguns lurking in the woods, farmers who wait for spring to
plough dark soil and plant spuds.
The hare made a jump of death, now a stew and the braves spit
pellets on a plate. Snow ate the rainbow and I saw heavy boots,
the hare looked small. In the forest a big tree soundless fell and
a squirrel lost its winter larder. Red fur on saintly snowfall;
do they eat squirrels in Norway?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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
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Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Snowfall
My eyes behold its beauty
As my hand
Reaches out for its touch,
While my face
Feels that certain tingle
That makes me love
Snow so much!
My heart embraces its coming
The way a child frolics
In the fallen snow! My beautiful snowfall
Brings joy to my spirit
And sunshine to my day.
It doesn't matter
Whether it be a blizzard
Or a dusting of flakes,
Snow falling from the sky
To me looks the same
Any old way!
Snow, my ever lovely snowfall! Be it Valentine's Day,
President's Day,
And yes,
Be it Groundhog Day!
Let it snow
I walk in it,
As well as sing in it!
I play in the snow
And build my favorite snowman,
Then chase
Each falling flake
As fast as I can! Each breath of air
Feels crystal clear
Making Winter so very dear!
Each descending flake
Falls as if it were
A blessing from the angels,
Appreciating this gift
Of nature from God,
More than any other
Man created pleasure! Let it snow
As well as
Let the winds blow!
I wait for the snow every year,
And can't stop smiling
When it finally appears!
Snowfall, my snowfall!
poem by Holly Bianchi
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Snow falls in spring
snow falls, winter starts.
We walk and have fun
But soon to be cold.
We now search for shelter.
Snow falling, Its winter
still to find our shelter
we need from the cold.
Snow remains, Its winter
were leaveing our shelther
we made from the snow,
But we remain cold.
Snow fell, Its over
spring has now started
Its warm and peaceful.
Our shelter is gone we
no longer need it
Spring has now started.
poem by Micheal Weston
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First Snowfall
Oh the first snowfall of the winter
Was a day that we all waited for
When it drifted to and frost
Why you shouldve seen the snow
It was near seven feet or more
By the old barn door
Oh the first snowfall of the winter
What a joy for a boy to behold
In each house youll find a sleigh
That was waiting for this day
And of course, down the road a hill
For each jack and jill
Every winter breeze that scurries
Sets the snowflakes up in flurries
Its the good old sentimental season when
Folks put runners on their surreys
And forget about their worries
When a man becomes a boy once again
Oh the first snowfall of the winter
Jingle bells bring us spells ever dear
Under wintry skies of gray
It was snowing all the day
And it showed no signs of stopping
Every kid with eyes of popping
Will soon be belly-whopping on his ear
On the first snowfall of the winter
Oh the first snowfall of the year
The first snow of the year
Is just about the best snow
Well Ill say any snow
Is a pretty good show
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winter's Spring
The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please--no bees to hum--
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring--the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
poem by John Clare
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Hari Chrishna
People with light orange cloaks
comes pass in a jolly procession.
There are two hitting drums
and one sings over a loudspeaker horn
and I see a few
getting rattling noises out of cymbals
that makes the people
on the sidewalk stand still
while the small group of people
draws attention and pass.
It’s a shrill “hare krishna hare krishna
krishna krishna hare hare
hare rama hare rama
rama rama hare hare”
that goes right through you
and I wonder
what the strange words
are exactly saying
and I hear how the drums
keeps the earthly rhythm
and it’s like a street circus
that disappears in the distance
while they disappear behind buildings.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Take Our Snow Please
As out the window,
I look, more snow today,
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please.
Six week-ends straight,
snow, snow every where,
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please, today.
So much snow, so much cold,
snow in the streets, snow in the yard,
snow on the car, snow on my shoe,
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please, we don't know what to do.
Winter, oh winter please end,
all of this snow, we don't really want it,
snow falling, flakes dropping
have only one thing to say,
take our snow please, don't delay.
And The Snow Fell
I remember big soft wet flakes
falling on the tracks all the way
streets filling with that wet snow
the trolley I was riding plowing
through fields of city snow
like a big red bulldozer
I remember clear as day
sitting with Ma at the table
in the kitchen looking out
at the snow falling
Ma and I sat there
streets and rooftops
disappearing in the falling snow
that covered all
and the snow fell along the Rhine
in Germany
and in the dark woods of the Ardennes
we sat there and watched
as the fields and woods in France
filled with gently falling snow
and my Pa lying dead
somewhere in France
and snow fell softly
all the way
across Europe
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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In The Winter
in the winter
the snow makes it look like
a marshmellow world
for all the childeren to see
the snow is soft
but cold
it sparkles in the sunlight glow
but gleams
with the moonlight
in the winter
it looks like
we're in the olden days
walking down the path
you chose
woundering...
whats at the end
in the winter
the childeren laugh and play
they build snowmans
make snow angels
and have alot of snow fights
in the winter
we pray
on christmas day
praying for all the little angels
who've lost there way
by: crystal sonier
age: 15
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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Snow on snow
Snow on snow
Flakes gently falling
Like leaves from a tree
Asking permission
Before they land
On the snowflakes underneath
Each one different
Like leaves on a tree
A white carpet
Pure white till soiled
By children’s shoes
They love its touch
Ooo snowball fights
Snow doesn’t hurt
Snow is soft and forgiving
People hurt
They are selfish and cruel
So let it snow
Snow on snow on
poem by James Hart
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A Lament
The merry merry lark was up and singing,
And the hare was out and feeding on the lea;
And the merry merry bells below were ringing,
When my child's laugh rang through me.
Now the hare is snared and dead beside the snow-yard,
And the lark beside the dreary winter sea;
And the baby in his cradle in the churchyard
Sleeps sound till the bell brings me.
Eversley, 1848.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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The Snow
The voice of the tree gets frozen
and the snow falls on the heart of the winter
it has been broken
as always
but the craziness of lover and poet goes on
if the surreal dreams
touches the corridor
of my reality
I promise
I will not ask much from winter
an eternal coldness may be
it is naked
as always
no warmth
no warmth
Dear,
snow is falling everywhere
on the streets
on the trees, rooftops
and on the mirror
an ivory white
something....
and I'm breathing in
the dust of the snow
like I breathe the poetry of Mayakovosky
It pains
the long night
a broken naked winter
no! you can't be so heartless
neither I can...
Dear,
I have been like a pale winter
where snow is covering
my city of Veronese
but my frozen hand is trying to write
your name on it...!
poem by Jyotishman Debnath
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The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles
This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. sitting on a
Fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close
By.
Now this may not seem strange, but when owl overheard kangaroo whisper
To no one in particular, ''the hare has lost his spectacles, well, he
Began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on
The grass was hare. in the stream that flowed by the grass -- a
Newt. and sitting astride a twig of a bush -- a bee.
Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement, for
Without his spectacles he was completely helpless. where were his
Spectacles? could someone have stolen them? had he mislaid them? what
Was he to do?
Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began: ''you
Probably ate them thinking they were a carrot.
''no! interrupted owl, who was wise. ''i have good eye-sight, insight,
And foresight. how could an intelligent hare make such a silly
Mistake? but all this time, owl had been sitting on the fence,
Scowling!
Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk. she thought herself
Far superior in intelligence to the others. she was their leader;
Their guru. she had the answer: ''hare, you must go in search of the
Optician.
But then she realized that hare was completely helpless without his
Spectacles. and so, kangaroo loudly proclaimed, ''i cant send hare in
Search of anything!
''you can guru, you can! shouted newt. ''you can send him with owl.
But owl had gone to sleep. newt knew too much to be stopped by so
Small a problem -- ''you can take him in your pouch. but alas, hare
Was much too big to fit into kangaroos pouch.
All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew
Nothing about spectacles.
As for all their tempting ideas, well hare didnt care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking Good
I remember big soft flakes
falling all the way home
Streets filling with snow
the trolley plowing through it
like a big red bulldozer
I remember sitting at the table
in the kitchen looking out
at the falling snow
It snowed all night long
Ma and I sat there watching
streets and sidewalks and rooftops
disappearing in a white blanket
of snow that fell and fluttered down
and the snow fell along the Rhine
in Germany and in the dark Ardennes-
fields and woods in France filling
with gently falling snow
and my Pa lying dead
somewhere in France
as snow fell all the way
across Europe
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Snow or Snowdrops?
Is it snow or snowdrops' shimmer
Whitens thus the bladed grass,
With a faint aërial glimmer,--
Spring or winter, which did pass?
For the sky is dim and tender
With an evanescent light,
And the fading fields are white,
White with snow or snowdrops, under
The fair firstling stars of night.
Little robin, softly, cheerly
Piping on yon wintry bough,
Why have all the fields that pearly
Iridescence, knowest thou?
Did old Winter, grim and hoary,
Aim a parting dart at Spring
As she fled on azure wing,
Or did she with rainbow glory
In his face her snowdrops fling?
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Wintertime
Snow falling on the ground,
Little white flakes to be found.
Lift your head to the sky,
And watch the snow zippin’ by.
Cold wind at your back,
Nothing winter seems to lack.
A blanket of snow covers the Trees,
Winter can’t end. No please!
Can’t Jack Frost do his Job?
For a little longer, don’t make me sob.
Can’t I stay in this Wonderland?
I don’t want to return to golden sand.
But under the layer of cold, white snow,
Lies little seedlings ready to show.
I must say a grateful farewell,
To winter fun, for it was swell.
And say hello to summer sweat,
Instead of getting cold, we get wet.
Hello Spring! Hello Summer!
Goodbye Fall! Goodbye Winter!
Snow Is Falling
Snow is falling: snow is falling.
Geranium flowers reach
for the blizzard’s small white stars
past the window’s edge.
Snow is falling, all is lost,
the whole world’s streaming past:
the flight of steps on the back stairs,
the corner where roads cross.
Snow is falling: snow is falling,
not snowflakes stealing down,
Sky parachutes to earth instead,
in his worn dressing gown.
As if he’s playing hide-and-seek,
across the upper landings,
a mad thing, slowly sneaks,
Sky creeps down from the attic.
It’s all because life won’t wait,
before you know, it’s Christmas here.
And look, in a minute,
suddenly it’s New Year.
Snow is falling, deeper – deeper.
Maybe, with that same stride
in that same tempo,
with that same languor,
Time’s going by?
Year after year, perhaps,
passing, as snow’s falling,
like words in a poem?
Snow’s falling: snow’s falling.
Snow is falling, all is lost –
the whitened passers-by,
leaves’ startled showing,
the corners where roads cross.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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From The Banks Of Ganga: V
I open my eyes
Non-light on the Ganga
Breaking into dawn
A la Kubja stood as if waiting
For me to open my eyes
Kabhie Krishna ko dekha?
Chalo meri saath!
Like a mute animal
I follow her into a chamber
Where a marble Krishna welcomed me
How long did I sit in His presence?
Hare Rama hare rama
Rama Rama Hare hare
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
My own chanting
Reverberating in my ears
There flowed Ganga
In bright sunlight…
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Death Of A Hare
He ran across in front of his car confused in the headlight's glare
He heard a bump he could not stop he knew he had killed the hare
Another car followed close behind so he had to drive on
'Twas not his fault though that in itself of no consolation to Ron.
And though the hare he could not avoid about it he feels bad
For the creature his car killed last night today he does feel sad
Though the hare he did have a quick end and did not suffer any pain
That his car should have caused it's death the regret with him does remain.
When he tells his friends about last night they tell him it's okay
The poor hare you could not avoid such things happen every day
That was how the hare was meant to die it was it's destiny
At least it did not suffer pain and death came suddenly.
A wildborn creature dead on the roadway is not an uncommon sight
But he does feel quite sad today that he killed a hare last night
He is compassionate of heart his type of person rare
It saddens him to think last night he caused the death of a hare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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