Snow On The Streets
Snow on the streets grooved by tires
into a bar-code. A band burning its first c.d.
Garbage bags humped against the parking meters
like terraformed drunks in an albino mindscape.
I want to sleep. But savage clouds are fuming
with moonlight. Oblivion's sweet, my little death,
gentle as a snowflake but the prelude to it
is pierced by cauterizing anxieties
like a needle park for voodoo dolls.
I'd rather be a butterfly, a pinwheel
spinning on an axis through my thorax
but you can't have it all. I tilt away from the sun
at perigee and try to stretch the night out
like a budget of meds for the month.
The dark's a cool poultice that draws
the infection out of my dreams. It
sublimates my sorrows like dry ice
that skipped the tears. I don't want to get wet
in an ice-age. Crucified by icicles
that drip like syringes in a limestone cave.
I smear my face in red ochre, blood
with desiccated binders, oil pastels,
and lay my prophetic bones under the firepit.
I place a great stone on my chest
like the weight of the world
to make sure I never get up again
but pain is a homeless ghost
and I don't think, even with my knees
popped under my chin like an embryo
every part of me is going to fit
my place at the table like a grave.
I throw a few cornflowers in
and wander off with my spirit
like a thought wave that's tagging along.
I chip away at my heart
like an obsidian lunette
with a bone that's edging it
into a phalanged Clovis point
for a throwing spear to penetrate
the mammoth of the wooly moon.
I think I'm going extinct.
I've culled too many stars.
The herds are thinning over my head.
The green of the traffic lights
that turned yellow in the fall
drops its single, blood-stained berry in the snow.
As the birds and the bards say
of the chokecherries, ripeness is all.
Snow-blinded by this white page,
and blazing is a kind of blindness,
I want to leave something behind
for people to follow like the tracks
of a wounded caribou writing
in the cuneiform Braille of my starmud
you can read with your fingertips
like a hungry clan that hasn't eaten for a week.
I don't want to be sought or thawed out by anyone
who isn't burning my fat in their lamps
or sewing my hide with a splinter
of my femur, threading my sinews
through the eye of a needle
stitching me up in an emergency room
like the mouth of a wound
that's had its say, and holds its tongue
like the exhausted flavour of silence
masticating a wad of pitch and pine gum
like the sacred syllable of the spear point
I was trying to make an era ago
before I got stuck in this one like a tarpit,
an exile returning on a migratory journey
to the prodigal museum of my homecoming exit.
poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Night And Day
When the jungle shadows fall
Like the tick tick tock of the eye of the clock
As it's standing against the wall
Like the drip drip drip of the rain drops
When the summer shower's through
So a voice within me
Keeps revealing you...you
Night and day
You are the one
Only you beneath the moon
And under the sun
Whether near to me or far
It's no matter, baby, where you are
I think of you
Night and day
Day and night
Why is it so
That this longing for you follows wherever I go
In the roaring traffic gloom
In the silence of my lonely room
I think of you
Night and day
Night and day
Under the hide of me
Though such a hungry yearning
Burning inside of me
This torment won't be through
'til you let me spend my life making love to you
Day and night
Night and day
Night and day
Under the hide of me
Oh, such a hungry yearning
Burning, burning inside of me
This torment won't be through
'til you let me spend my life making love to you
Day and night
Night and day
Night and day
Night and day
Night and day
Night, night, night and day
Night and day
Night, night and day
Night and day
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel of snow
There are flakes that do not want to fall anymore
From the air similar with a huge mesh of azure
Because of the cold I have an eye of snow
I call you with the other eye as a snow falling around
And it is like it would snow in the rhythm of the music
On the pyre ready to hurt
I'm like a snowflake going up on a hill
When you get ready to put out an evening
I reach out a hand and the world is on fire
Burning the snow with flames
From elbows of frost I am making room are violently
In order to die in the
So, I may in the heat of your eyes
A wind lights the place around
Your smile is lighting up the white morning
While my heart beat has snowed
And an angel has sprained his wing of ice
poem by Costel Zăgan from Emotive pyre (24 December 1979)
Submitted by Costel Zăgan
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A Single Candle/Death Herself
A single flame lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death
Her hands clasped anrond their souls
The souls of the dead
She feeds of their screams
The screams of the dead
Her legs lay bellow her
Bellow death
Her black gown over her body
The body of death
Her chest rises and falls with her breath
The breath of death
Her cloak drawn over her long flowing jet hair
The face of death
Her eyes unmoved unfeeling
Do you see it?
Do you see the soul of death?
Do you feel it?
Her skin as white as snow as it fades into darkness
The snow of tears
Her cloths as dark as night that swallows the light
The dark we all shall see
Her eyes close as she feels their souls flow
Flow from the dead
She leaves them there to lay in darkness
She steals from the dead
A single candle lights their faces filled with her
Filled with death
They fall into the darkness of her eyes, of her heart
The darkness of death
A single candle shall stay to light their way
Their way through the dark
A single candle holds their past
The pain and trials
A single candle lights her face
The face of death
A single candle holds her fears
The fears of death herself
A single candle
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'll Wear This Robe
I'll wear this robe like a desert;
and release the hinges on the gate
that is closing like a rib cage
on the heart of the nightbird
that returns to the silence
like water taken from a river.
I'll pour the moon out of its stone cup
and let this vine of eyes,
this bone of light
wander where it will
in search of a face in the darkness
sweeter than the blood-vows of wine.
These flowers aren't the rags
of the legends of radiance
and a dragon doesn't waste eclipses
on the blind.
The wind opens its hand
and I disappear like a gust of crows
in the startled night groves.
I will drag this empty robe of blood along the ground
like a wounded sky,
a desolate poppy
broken like a kite
on the power lines of its dreams.
I don't know what hurt me;
so long, so long ago I was a child,
and now I am a man, and aging
and the water snarls
and bares its fangs of frost,
and impales my heart
inflamed with grief for so much that has passed
without understanding
on the horns of the moon.
My ignorance has been
deeply authorized by life
and more and more often now
my blood coagulates into roses
and seals my mouth with wax
like a regal mandate
to succeed myself in silence
and let my throne
avalanche down the mountain
like just another rockslide,
another round of asteroids,
another fallen temple
freaked with mystic ore that never made it to the surface.
You ask me where I've been
like a road you befriended along the way,
but I'd have to know where I was going
to tell you that
and I've come to the end of myself
like starlight in a loaf of bread,
a candle that burnt like a voice in the night
to obviate the emptiness,
to warm the abyss momentarily
with the glow of our human divinity,
to say we were here once
like the flower in the field,
the star over the hill,
the face in the window
that watches as we pass
like the shadow of a bird
cast by the flames of a hidden fire,
a pulse of the moon,
the eyelid of a wave
that imagined the sea beneath it
before it broke like a vision
on this shore of flesh
where everything must be abandoned.
I want to be with you
like your eyes are
if you'll let me be.
I want to silver my breath
in the longest night
of your loneliest fountain.
And many have sworn,
and many along the way
have perished like echoes and flowers
at the insistence of a rootless word.
And there have been nights,
eras of darkness and sorrow
drawn from a stranger's well
that have bent the path I took,
and scattered my footprints
like refugees and colonists
that turned native
like an exhausted emotion
when their loneliness went wild and crazy
in a solitude even the moon couldn't fill.
And I have stared
long and deeply into the abyss of the night
and felt the stars stub themselves out
in the sandy hourglass of my ashtray heart.
How desperately
I have rummaged through
this encyclopedia of lives
to find one that wasn't a prelude to tears,
my heart a lost boot,
laced with a snapped spinal cord,
its mouth
muzzled like a junkyard dog
with an elastic band
to keep body and soul together,
only to proofread sky after sky,
page after page of stars
pricked out in braille,
fingering my name
carved in funereal kells and runes
on another boundary stone.
Nothing binds me.
No one wants my heart enough
to consult it like a map
to where I'm buried like gold
under the tongue of a dangerous angel
who wants to wake up beside you
like a spear of fire
I will fall upon like life, like a lover,
to wound my way back into paradise.
poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Night & Day
Where the jungle shadows fall
Like the tick tick tick of the eye of the clock
Youre standing up against the wall
Like the drip drip drip of the rain drops
When the sun shines through
So a voice within me
Keeps revealing you...you
Night and day
You are the one
Only you beneath the moon
And under the sun
Whether near to me or far
Its no matter, baby, where you are
I think of you
Night and day
Day and night
Why is it so
That this longing for you follows wherever I go
In the roaring traffic gloom
In the silence of my lonely room
I think of you
Night and day
Night and day
Under the hide of me
Though such a hungry yearning
Burning inside of me
This torment wont be through
til you let me spend my life making love to you
Day and night
Night and day
Night and day
Under the hide of me
Oh, such a hungry yearning
Burning, burning inside of me
This torment wont be through
til you let me spend my life making love to you
Day and night
Night and day
Night and day
Night and day
Night and day
Night, night, night and day
Night and day
Night, night and day
Night and day
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mastodon Hunt
Spear shafts splintering beneath its collapsing hulk,
the mastodon crashed to the earth,
roared its final lament and fell silent.
Shouts echoed across the ravine.
Dark-haired Clovis hunters converged:
stripping the hide,
carving the flesh.
Others circling the carcass,
traced broken shafts to flint;
gathering them for tomorrow's hunt -
retrieving all save one.
A triumphal fire hissed and snapped,
hurling heat and smoke
high into the mid–day sky.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The archaeologist knelt to the ground.
Heart racing, he scraped dirt from flint,
brushed away millennia of dust
and raised the projectile to the sun shouting,
'Clovis point! '
'Clovis point' - a revelation in the dust:
found inches from the bones of its prey.
Khaki and blue jean clad hunters gathered quickly
to read the epic written in flint and bone:
mastodon and Clovis united by the point of a spear.
poem by Robert Charles Howard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New York Winter
New York Winter
Upon seeing the weather on TV, I noticed in your area
Your weather outside is dreadful But here it's so delightful
So because you've no place to go, watch it snow, watch it snow, watch it snow
It doesn't show signs of quittin You know you're stuck there just a sittin
Guess you could let the lights go low
Save some electric and watch it snow, snow, snow
It's gonna be 72 here today Why'd anyone stay up your way?
You need to find another place to go
Where there isn't any snow, any snow, any snow
Come visit, we have room with a view
Something you'll see that is new
With grass that one doesn't have to mow
And there's no snow, there's no snow, there's no snow
Jim 2008
poem by James Casey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snow Fall in the Moonlight
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Like soft cotton falling from the sky,
Covering the ground and bushes in pure white,
Glowing beautifully in the night of December.
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Like a child I walked happily through the pure white snow,
Making soft crackling sound in the silent winter night,
When I reached the far end of the open field,
I turned to see the path I had taken,
A straight line through the pure white snow.
Snow fall in the moonlight,
Can there be a more beautiful sight than this?
As I look into the night sky,
And the soft snow flakes touches my face,
I breathe the fresh cold air of the winter night.
As I stood alone in silence, stillness in the air,
My feeling and longing comes to my lips,
And I thank Allah for this beautiful moment,
A chance to see snow fall in the moonlight!
(In memory of Belgian winter,1986)
poem by Spiritual Seeker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rhyme & Reason
Oh well oh well so here we stand
But we stand for nothing
My heart calls to me in my sleep
How can i turn to it
'cause i'm all locked up in this
Dark place--
And i do not know i'm as good as dead
My head aches--
Warped and tied up i need to kill this pain
My head won't leave my head alone
And i don't believe it will
Until i'm dead and gone
My head won't leave my head alone
And i don't believe it willl
Until i'm six feet under gound
How long i'm tied up
My mind in knots--
My stomach reels in concern for what i might do or
What i've done
It's got me living in fear
Well i know these voices must
Be my sould i've had my grave
Lying wired and shut and quiet in my grave
Leave me here
Leave it to me to waste here
So young and here i am again
Talking to myself
A tv blares
Oh man
Oh how i wish i didn't smoke
Or drink to reason with my head
But sometimes this thick confusion
Grows utnil i cannot bear it all
Needle to the vein
Needle to the vein
Take this needle from my vein my fiend
I said
In my grave
Lying, lying cold in my grave
The reason--my reason
Take my head off this terror
The fearing won't come back
I can't see my mind's all wiped clean
The needle
Make my great escape
I seem caught in time
My head leaves me behing
Body fall cold
And i have seen heaven
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Graveyard in the snow
Today, I cannot find your grave,
because the stone with your name
is set in the earth,
down, where it is not in the way,
when the caretakers mow the grass,
now you are covered with snow.
Everything is white,
so full of peace, so still,
I sit on the bench,
it is so cold, but
I feel so close to you,
after all, you are cold,
under the earth,
under this white sheet,
hidden, but there, I know.
Only a raven,
shiny in funeral coat of feathers,
black against the white,
sits with me, in a tree,
not far, insistently cawing,
a warning, an emphatic word
of solace.
The trees, dark green
under the snow,
are so silent,
I can hear a soft sliding,
when the clumps of snow
fall on the ground,
startling the raven.
He flies away,
a shadow against the clouds
of winter sky.
I must leave you now,
the deep cavity of my grief
is like the silence
of your snow-covered grave,
enticing me to stay.
But I have promised
a pledge to live,
before I can sleep
under the snow.
poem by Martina E. Elenbaas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow
LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW!
Oh, the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we've no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Hey! It doesn't show signs of stopping
And I've brought some corn for popping
The lights are turned way down low
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
And when we finally kiss good night
How I'll hate going out in the storm
But if you really hold me tight
All the way home I'll be warm
The fire is slowly dying
Hey! and, Honey, we're still goodbying
But as long as you love me so,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow
Oh the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since weve no place to go
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Oh it doesnt show signs of stopping
And I bought some corn for popping
The lights are turned way down low
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
When we finally kiss goodnight
How I hate going out in the storm
But if you really hold me tight
All the way home Ill be warm
Oh the fire is slowly dying
And my dear were still good-bying
But as long as you love me so
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow
Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
It doesn't show signs of stopping,
And I've brought some corn for popping;
The lights are turned way down low,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
When we finally kiss good night,
How I'll hate to go out in the storm;
But if you really hold me tight,
All the way home I'll be warm!
Oh the fire is slowly dying,
And, my dear, we're still good-bye-ing.
But as long as you love me so,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rhyme Reason
Oh well oh well so here we stand
But we stand for nothing
My heart calls to me in my sleep
How can I turn to it
cause Im all locked up in this
Dark place--
And I do not know Im as good as dead
My head aches--
Warped and tied up I need to kill this pain
My head wont leave my head alone
And I dont believe it will
Until Im dead and gone
My head wont leave my head alone
And I dont believe it willl
Until Im six feet under gound
How long Im tied up
My mind in knots--
My stomach reels in concern for what I might do or
What Ive done
Its got me living in fear
Well I know these voices must
Be my sould Ive had my grave
Lying wired and shut and quiet in my grave
Leave me here
Leave it to me to waste here
So young and here I am again
Talking to myself
A tv blares
Oh man
Oh how I wish I didnt smoke
Or drink to reason with my head
But sometimes this thick confusion
Grows utnil I cannot bear it all
Needle to the vein
Needle to the vein
Take this needle from my vein my fiend
I said
In my grave
Lying, lying cold in my grave
The reason--my reason
Take my head off this terror
The fearing wont come back
I cant see my minds all wiped clean
The needle
Make my great escape
I seem caught in time
My head leaves me behing
Body fall cold
And I have seen heaven
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Snow Queen 1. (Rev.) 22 August 2008
I must go and save my love
from the Snow Queen’s palace –
built of driven snow, doors and
windows pierced by winds
…My love once saw a snowflake brilliant
…white, beautiful and delicate turned
…into a snow maiden, dressed in finest
…gauze – but ice, hard and glittering…
A hobgoblin’s changing mirror made
all good and beauty into the bad and
ugly; the mirror fell and shattered
and a shard lodged in an eye
…It saw the plain and the ugly,
…when a splinter pierced a
…heart, it turned into
…a piece of ice…
Hans Christian Andersen
poem by Margaret Alice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Can't Say
I can’t say that my breath
isn’t the lengthening shadow
of a tree burning its leaves
like a candlabra in the sunset,
or the moon hasn’t broken its tooth
trying to open the lotus of marrow
I motherlode in the lockets of my bones
like silver and bread
for the long, lean journey ahead.
Sometimes when I look at the stars and wonder
I feel like a cigarette-butt
in a glass of mystic wine,
my little humanity, a grain of dust
on a sidereal windowsill, if that,
and I remember the ignorant sincerity
of the orchards that sweetened their apples
like a windfall of hearts
under my eyelids as I dreamed
night after night
of unknown thresholds
I might cross like a smile or a shadow
down this blood-road of blossoms and storms
that I have carried everywhere with me
like a snake in a bag.
There was a silence at the end of my fingertips
when I reached out to touch a cheek or flower,
so beautiful, so intense
I am certain I felt the pulse of God
throbbing like a bird in her vastness,
that I could almost forgive time
the bridge of cornerstones
that trampled me like a grape
in a stampede of asteroids
and buried me like water on the moon
in an avalanche of skulls.
My tears fall from the eaves of my sorrows
indifferently as rain
trying to wake seeds
like the eye of a needle
to patch the wounded earth with roots.
And I am still demonic enough
to prefer the clarity of the flame
to the pillars of smoke that pass for wisdom,
though I know it means
sailing off the edge of the world
like a galaxy on its own event horizon
with the empty hand of the wind
on a rudder it mistakes for a wing.
I don’t think I’ll go very far when I die.
I’ll pour my snake out like wine, like a candle
like music from the flutes of my bones
and charm my way
like the fragrance of a stone rose
through the dark, nameless gate
I’ve been walking through since I was born.
poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Errand
I've been going right on, page by page,
since we last kissed, two long dolls in a cage,
two hunger-mongers throwing a myth in and out,
double-crossing out lives with doubt,
leaving us separate now, fogy with rage.
But then I've told my readers what I think
and scrubbed out the remainder with my shrink,
have placed my bones in a jar as if possessed,
have pasted a black wing over my left breast,
have washed the white out of the moon at my sink,
have eaten The Cross, have digested its lore,
indeed, have loved that eggless man once more,
have placed my own head in the kettle because
in the end death won't settle for my hypochondrias,
because this errand we're on goes to one store.
That shopkeeper may put up barricades,
and he may advertise cognac and razor blades,
he may let you dally at Nice or the Tuileries,
he may let the state of our bowels have ascendancy,
he may let such as we flaunt our escapades,
swallow down our portion of whisky and dex,
salvage the day with some soup or some sex,
juggle our teabags as we inch down the hall,
let the blood out of our fires with phenobarbital,
lick the headlines for Starkweathers and Specks,
let us be folk of the literary set,
let us deceive with words the critics regret,
let us dog down the streets for each invitation,
typing out our lives like a Singer sewing sublimation,
letting our delicate bottoms settle and yet
they were spanked alive by some doctor of folly,
given a horn or a dish to get by with, by golly,
exploding with blood in this errand called life,
dumb with snow and elbows, rubber man, a mother wife,
tongues to waggle out of the words, mistletoe and holly,
tables to place our stones on, decades of disguises,
wntil the shopkeeper plants his boot in our eyes,
and unties our bone and is finished with the case,
and turns to the next customer, forgetting our face
or how we knelt at the yellow bulb with sighs
like moth wings for a short while in a small place.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! (feat. Kenny Loggins & Clint Black)
Oh the weather outside is frightful
But the fire is so delightful
And since we've no place to go
Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
It doesn't show signs of stopping
And I've bought some corn for popping
The lights are turned way down low
Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
When we finally kiss goodnight
How I'll hate going out in the storm!
But if you'll really hold me tight
All the way home I'll be warm
The fire is slowly dying
And, my dear, we're still goodbying
But as long as you love me so
Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O No Witness To Me
O no witness to me you can't go,
though I long for it, you don't follow,
my shadow stops leaving itself behind as a sign.
I have been ungrammatized by the madness of scientific magic,
a waterclock of life boats I kept bailing out of
until I threw the baby out with the bathwater, mushy as soap.
I tore down the shrines of chaos as an act of irreverent devotion
and the dead thanked me for stealing what they couldn't give away.
Divine solace without earthly consolation,
I wanted to be crucified diagonally as a random act
of symbolic defiance, but I was buried
under an avalanche of skulls on the moon
and all these voices in my head that swear they're prophetic
keep baffling me with alternative universes
that have no interest in cultivating me as a way of life.
But you my heart, dark star, dying insurgent of my solitude,
homeless door into the open, your eyes more beautiful
than reflecting telescopes on a cold mountain
far from the city, I am a casualty of space, what hands
do I have to hold you with? Time has ripped out my tongue
like an autumn leaf, and the clouds gather, sweetness,
the clouds, hushed like a book-signing at a mortuary.
Whatever value I had once as a man has turned
against the mirror of miracles, the chthonic excellence
of elegizing the teen age suicides and untactical drunks
that curled up in a coma on the train tracks
as the inevitable came into view with a warning whistle.
I poured libations of poetry to beseech the poppy gods below
among their immortal bees, to explain something to them
gentle and soothing, cool honey on a burn. Delusional
but compassionate in a useless kind of way. A gesture
of ineptitude that swept me away in tears for how much
has yet be lost in the abyss of human affairs
that doesn't even taste of us after all these years.
At the window of wonder, if you don't throw
the moon through it, you're going to dropp like a fly.
No more questions to pin down like the head of a snake
to keep it from turning on you like the lethal insight
of a gamma ray burst into the nature of nothingness
across the great divide of the razorwire
that twinkles like stars that are deaf and dumb
to the wishes we make upon them. I wish I may,
I wish I might be seen by you as the missing wing
of your cosmic symmetry, and you, the dark matter of mine.
Could we fly? Could we shine? Could we go mad together
under your bedroom window in a connubium of moonlight
and even the insincere candles from the dollar store seem sublime?
This far out at sea, would you be my island galaxy,
would you let me be washed up on your coasts
among the drowned, my whole life flashing before your eyes
as I reached out for you ingenuously as the tide
leaves things at your door like nomadic starfish
and my fingers, almost touching your face,
as I have so many times imagined
an enlightened savage might your talismanic sorrows,
feathers of joy and sacred dirt in a sexual medicine bag?
poem by Patrick White
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As The Snow Falls (song)
As the rain falls down,
It turns to snow.
As the snow falls down,
It hits the ground.
You look outside,
And it’s a sheet of white.
So you think,
Oh what a beautiful night.
The fire is warm,
And the coco too.
And you wonder,
What is next to do?
Looking outside,
All you see is white,
And stars in the sky…ayyy.
The stars are falling,
The stars are falling,
And they cover the ground.
The snow has fallen,
Snow has fallen,
And it covers the ground.
You sit there,
Lookin’ out your window,
Sippin’ on your coco. Oh
Watching as the rain falls down-
The snow falls down-
The stars fall down.
And you see,
All of natures beauty.
The rain falls down,
And it turns to snow.
The snow falls down,
And it hits the ground.
Lookin’ outside,
And it’s a sheet of white.
you bundle up,
and step outside.
standing in the cold,
you look around.
its all so calm and still.
Oh there’s not a single sound.
It’s a silent night,
Oh what a sight.
Snow covers the trees,
So beautiful to see.
Back inside you go
To the fire you stand,
With coco in hand.
You’re cozy and warm,
All alone.
It’s getting late,
So you sleep the night away.
As the rain fell down,
It turned to snow.
As the snow fell down,
It hit the ground.
And the sheet of white,
It disappeared.
The next day you wake,
And the beauty is gone.
The morning sun,
Thawed the lawn.
And the snowy wondrous night is done.
poem by Tessa Monaghan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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