My Twighlight Time
'Cross the Green of yesteryear, tears~
Comes a gradual ripening of seed~
It cloisters itself, in the valleys deep~
Amongst the fertile sod, it feeds....
Encircled by a range of Mountains~
Frosted themselves, with past snow~
Left o'er icy topping's~
Shining now, in the Green May, We Know!
The snow has been there, a while~
Or at least, since November fourteen~
When the last, of premature snow fell~
Upon the Mountains and Valleys once Green!
November, now remembered, for its most icy womb~
While May, for the ice, melting itself away~
And an opening, to a Civilization Of Beauty~
As, the Seeds Of Goodness, They Bloom In Our Hearts Today!
poem by Theodora Onken

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Makarora
Rocky peaks of Makarora in the summer wear their snow
And down the lush green grassy valley the clear mountain river flow
Songbirds piping in the beechwoods songthrush, bellbird and
redpoll
This a place of peace and beauty Makarora has a soul.
These great mountains look no different than to when the first man came
They have a wild rugged beauty for want of a better name
To the coming generations these high peaks will look the same
Man will not build houses on them man such wildness could not tame.
Summer's come to Makarora and along with her brought her green
Beauty to compare with any with the finest I have seen
This place would inspire an artist peaks in summer white
with snow
Beechwoods and through lush green valley sparkling mountain river flow.
Those high peaks of makarora will not change as years go by
Out there on those rugged mountains bones of Maori hunter lie
Still these mountains keep their secrets monarchs of the higher ground
Overlooking Makarora and the woodlands all around
Snow clad peaks of Makarora reaching upwards towards the sky
I am just a passing stranger and I'll be bidding you goodbye
But I will take with me the memories of beauty I have seen
today
Woodlands in a lush green valley by those mountains far away
poem by Francis Duggan

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Those Green Fields Of Kilmeedy
Those green fields of Kilmeedy I do remember still
They meet the gorse and bracken at the foot of Clara hill
A place of peace and beauty with mountains all around
Scarce touched by man's pollution where Nature's joys abound.
Even in summer in Kilmeedy the dawn comes with a chill
But skylark he is piping above the bracken hill
Through Spring and through the Summer he sings all through the day
And I fancy I can hear him o'er mountains far away.
The robin he is piping on flowering hawthorn tree
Across the miles of distance his music comes to me
And dunnock on the hedgerow and dipper in the stream
And song thrush piping gaily on ash by old bohreen.
All through the Spring and Summer the wildering flowers are seen
But green fields of Kilmeedy not always quite so green
In November and December the winds of Winter blow
And January and February bring frost and sleet and snow.
In mid March in Kilmeedy the first wildflowers appear
And weather still quite chilly though days of bloom are near
But April brings her blossoms and leaves behind her green
And May comes o'er the mountain the summer beauty queen.
Those green fields of kilmeedy I see them every day
And I hear the skylark piping o'er hillsides far away
And dunnock on the hedgerow and the dipper in the stream
And those green fields of Kilmeedy have never looked so green.
poem by Francis Duggan

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The Grass Is Blue
i've had to think of a way to survive since you said it's over told me good-bye
i just can't make it one day without you unless i pretend that the opposites true
rivers flow backwards
valleys are high
mountains are level
truth is a lie
i'm perflectly fine
and i don't miss you
the sky is green and the grass is blue
(break)
how much can a heart and a troubled mind take
where is that fine line before it all breaks
can one end their sorrow just cross over it
and into that relm of instantive bliss
there's snow in the tropics
there's ice on the sun
it's hot in the Artic
and crying is fun
and i'm alright now and i'm over you
and the sky is green
and the grass is blue
and the rivers flow backwards and my tears are dry
swans hate the water and eagles can't fly
but i'm alright now that i'm over you
and the sky is green and the grass is blue
and i don't love you and the grass is blue
song performed by by Norah Jones

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grass Is Blue
Ive had to think up a way to survive
Since you said its over
Told me good-bye
I just cant make it one day without you
Unless I pretend that the opposites true
Rivers flow backwards
Valleys are high
Mountains are level
Truth is a lie
Im perfectly fine
And I dont miss you
The sky is green
And the grass is blue
How much can a heart and a troubled mind take
Where is that fine line before it all breaks
Can one end their sorrow
Just cross over it
And into that realm of insanitive bliss
Theres snow in the tropics
Theres ice on the sun
Its hot in the arctic
And crying is fun
And Im happy now
And Im glad were through
And the sky is green
And the grass is blue
And the rivers flow backwards
And my tears are dry
Swans hate the water
And eagles cant fly
But Im alright now
Now that Im over you
And the sky is green
And the grass is blue
And I dont love you
And the grass is blue
song performed by by Dolly Parton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the Melting of the Snow
There's a sunny Southern land,
And it's there that I would be
Where the big hills stand,
In the South Countrie!
When the wattles bloom again,
Then it's time for us to go
To the old Monaro country
At the melting of the snow.
To the East or to the West,
Or wherever you may be,
You will find no place
Like the South Countrie.
For the skies are blue above,
And the grass is green below,
In the old Monaro country
At the melting of the snow.
Now the team is in the plough,
And the thrushes start to sing,
And the pigeons on the bough
Sit a-welcoming the Spring.
So come, my comrades all,
Let us saddle up and go
To the old Monaro country
At the melting of the snow.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

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White on Green
White on green
Or is it green on white?
Surprise mosaic of half melted snow
Offers unexpected beauty
Eat your heart out
You abstract artists.
Bare branches weave
Delicate lace
Over aqua skies I walk
To where my dead children lie
And remember their names
That only I ever breathed
See how green shoots grow
Beneath the snow
Is it green on white
Or white on green?
Eat your heart out
You abstract artists
Random nature
Says it all so much better.
poem by Anita Wisniewska

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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.
Oahu
Here on this island, summer never sleeps.
In the green valleys, smoke in cane-time drifts
With mist—frail tide that laps the chasmed deeps
Between the steep clean hills as the sea-tide
Once washed the silent hidden hollow rifts
And unseen valleys of its unborn bride.
Sea-bride, child of earth’s red molten womb,
Daughter of fire and chaos long since sleeping,
Who were the people that made your green hills bloom?
Wedded to the seas they were, like you;
From the dark sea, while you your watch were keeping,
They came to make their destined rendezvous.
The broad bare feet step forth on virgin sand,
And eyes raise to the green eternal hills:
Gray mist, green hills and fertile red-clay land,
Alone no more. The carefree caroling laughter
Drifts inland, where valley mist distills
The songs that shall be sung forever after.
poem by S.J. Fulton

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Reflecting
Reflecting on clouds that slowly creep,
Across the vast skies like woolly sheep,
The blues of heaven, the red sunset,
All sights that nobody can forget,
Sunshine and rain, crisp white frost and snow,
The softest breeze, and strong winds that blow,
Though I will gently doze, yet I may sleep,
For within your spirit my love you keep.
Reflecting on mighty oceans deep,
Stark mountains so craggy, tall and steep,
Valleys all filled with rich luscious green,
There’s such immense beauty to be seen,
But you are not here to see it too,
I can’t share these wondrous things with you,
You said not to cry though, nor will I weep,
For within my spirit your love I keep.
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Green.
Green are the valleys
green are the fields
green are the forests and long rolling hills
green like the shamrock and eyes with a smile
green as old Ireland
The emerald isle.
poem by Charles M. Moore

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Green Park Snowmen Gone
Green Park is green again; the snow has thawed,
Except for scattered stumps of snowmen now
As dolour drips from every branch and bough
And foggy drizzle usurps flakes that poured
This fortnight past to garnish grass with white,
A rare event for Central London, since
This milder climate, here to stay, gives hints
That snow will be a much-elusive sight
So though we grouse that traffic was delayed
By slush as cars slipped on un-gritted roads
And made us take a “Snow-day” off, we know
These lonesome snowmen proudly on parade
Might be the last if global warming bodes
A warning of the end for winter's snow.
poem by C. Richard Miles

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The Green Dot
A green dot was wandering one day,
Where is its spot, where it can lay! ,
It delayed its arrival,
And all the green is now gone,
The green dot is wandering searching,
Goofing the streets under rain and thunder,
It moves fast and slow, gradual run,
From the shore, to the bays,
When it was deceived by the beauty of trees,
What beauty can it see, but she wasn’t comfee,
Because it wasn’t that green,
What green it could be?
What green does it belong?
It don’t know, but the search seemed to be long,
Oh! Lil green dot, lil green dot,
What is this mess all about?
The lil green dot missed its way,
And now it dun no where to stay,
Where are the other green, where is its stain?
Forever the search, Forever it will feel the pain,
To be away from the other green dots.
poem by Mustafa Ghuneim

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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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The Poem of Spring
When the trees flower pink and white
filigree, and the sleeping
god comes back to life
here, where our mountains preside
so drably much of the year
now, when the walls of our valleys
are so green, green, green on all sides,
and our eyes see easy
before Nature gets carried away
and squeezes out too much Fire
and it all burns dead again,
you want to pin it
down with your pen
so it will never slip away,
this elixir,
this secret,
for there's nothing
I could ever seek
beyond this Spring
spreading inside me,
flooding my veins forever.
A Winter of Discontent
I remember a winter a few decades ago.
Where our dear England was covered in snow.
It started on Boxing Day with a blizzard from hell
then in the course of a week the snow just fell.
This once green paradise was now a shroud of white
and everyone was suffering from chillblains and frostbite.
Outdoor life was like an indoor fridge
where everything had frozen like a mountain ridge.
Abandon lorries on the side of the road
men were freezing even their load.
Villages cut off all over the land
so in came the troops to lend a hand.
This was the winter of discontent that lasted from
Christmas, and way past Lent.
As one lot of snow cleared, it would return again
to bring freezing cold tempretures and a lot of pain.
Wind would blow both night and day, and still the snow
never went away.Drifts of snow standing six foot high
just being topped up with snow from a winter sky.
So what of this winter of ice and snow
one that happened a few decades ago.
I remember it as one that was cold and wild
because in the summer God presented me
with my first born child.
In this year, where snow fell in December
it was the coldest winter I will ever remember.
poem by Sylvia Spencer

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When The Snow Came
The snow started here, at about half past four;
Lightly, at first, but then it fell more and more.
Upon spying the first few flakes, I rushed to the shop;
The snow began to settle, but I hoped that it may stop.
But it continued to fall, creating a blanket of white;
Till snowflakes coated everything within my sight.
By nightfall, the world was bathed in an eerie glow,
Created by the bright reflection of the fallen snow.
Against the orange glow of a nearby street light,
I could see flakes falling, and swirling in flight.
Overnight, heavy snow had been forecast to fall,
But, luckily, for us, we had no extra snow at all.
I awoke in the morning, and saw patches of green,
And clear rectangles, where parked cars had been.
The snow was not half as bad, as I had anticipated;
I knew the snow would soon melt, and I felt elated.
The day brightened up and, very soon, the sun shone;
In almost no time at all, much of the snow was gone.
By midday, we were well into the very welcome thaw;
I’m hoping that, for a while, we won’t have any more.
Snow can create many amazing, picturesque scenes,
But walking through it, when it’s icy, I’m not so keen.
Whenever snow is predicted, I feel panic in my heart,
And I feel glad whenever the snow decides to depart.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Horses in the Snow
Their manes are a wintry white
Frosted with the glittering snow
There backs are dappled light
And shimmer with a frozen glow
Dark browns and golden tones
Contrast with the wonderland
From dark grays to deep roans
The muted colors of the land
Their manes and backs are white
Frosted with the falling snow
The horses dance through the light
Of the shining, shimmering snow
Horses In The Snow
Their manes are a wintry white
Frosted with the glittering snow
There backs are dappled light
And shimmer with a frozen glow
Dark browns and golden tones
Contrast with the wonderland
From dark grays to deep roans
The muted colors of the land
Their manes and backs are white
Frosted with the falling snow
The horses dance through the light
Of the shining, shimmering snow
poem by Horse Poet

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Thistle
Thistle standing tall and proud
With its purple down all around
Leafs with prickles they will sting
But the look of elegance a majestic thing
An emblem of Scotland its colours you show
Your crown of white seeds like our mountains topped with snow
Your colour purple like the heather below
The green in your leafs is like the trees and the grass
Your picture brings memories of my Scottish past
Your roots buried deep in the land that I love
The people are friendly and can’t do enough
01 12 2010
Chellaston
poem by Jim O'Donnell

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