No Songs in Winter
The sky is gray as gray may be,
There is no bird upon the bough,
There is no leaf on vine or tree.
In the Neponset marshes now
Willow-stems, rosy in the wind,
Shiver with hidden sense of snow.
So too 't is winter in my mind,
No light-winged fancy comes and stays:
A season churlish and unkind.
Slow creep the hours, slow creep the days,
The black ink crusts upon the pen--
Just wait till bluebirds, wrens, and jays
And golden orioles come again!
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Winter-Strike
Winter gray the light of day,
winter-gray snow-melt still on the ground
drawn the winter, long the week,
Monday-gray through Saturday.
Saturday night a freezing rain
left a Sunday washed anew
in snow pock-crusted lacy frosted
gleaming bright in the winter crisp.
Chatter-clatter clickety-tackety / hey, what is that sound?
Spin around with a cocking ear / hey, where is that sound?
Look up, look up to the highest trees!
Diamond-fierce the topmost branches
sheathed in ice — slicing in the wind — twigs all
sparkling rattling swaying shining pierce my heart.
I was eight and we were late to church
that Sunday, day of days
that first and best of all days since —
when tree ice beauty blew me sacred joy.
poem by Gloria Kim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Nocturne
The Moon has gone to her rest,
A full hour ago.
The Pleiads have found a nest
In the waves below.
Slow, the Hours one by one
In Midnight's footsteps creep.
Lovers who lie alone
Soon wake to weep.
Slow--footed tortoise Hours, will ye not hasten on,
Till from his prison
In the golden East
A new day shall have risen,
And the last stars be gone,
Like guests belated from a bridal feast?
When the long night is done
Then shall ye sleep.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blue Skies
I was blue, just as blue as I could be
Evry day was a cloudy day for me
Then good luck came a-knocking at my door
Skies were gray but theyre not gray anymore
Blue skies
Smiling at me
Nothing but blue skies
Do I see
Bluebirds
Singing a song
Nothing but bluebirds
All day long
Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right
Noticing the days hurrying by
When youre in love, my how they fly
Blue days
All of them gone
Nothing but blue skies
From now on
[2]
I should care if the wind blows east or west
I should fret if the worst looks like the best
I should mind if they say it cant be true
I should smile, thats exactly what I do
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
A Flow of Love
Yeah!
Slow and Slow
ye stare
with eyes-
eyes innocent
as doe
Slow and Slow
you emptied
my cup
A cup
of woe
Slow and Slow
ye vanquished
my foes
hidden
inner foes
Slow and Slow
Ye pour
A wine of joy
in a goblet
with glow
Slow and Slow
Ye stamp
my cells
from
head to toe
Slow and slow
Ye weed out
ignorance
with your
divine hoe
Slow and slow
Ye open
petals
of my mind
for glorious show
Slow and slow
you rescued
me from claws
A dangerous
Maya's claws
Slow and slow
you weeded
out my flaws
habitual
mortal flaws
Slow and slow
Ye brought me
under yoke
A yoke
of divine law
Slow and slow
please come
in my life
with your
majestic flow
Because
Our separation
waiting on death row
our rendezvous
hot desert in a
storm of snow
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
26/01/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Willow Tree
I am a Willow Tree, that sways gently in the wind
I am a Willow Tree, who has no limits.
I am a Willow Tree, who has long and beautiful branches
I am a Willow Tree, who provides shade and comfort.
I am a Willow Tree, who can be placed anywhere
I am a Willow Tree, I whisper in the wind.
I am a Willow Tree, you think I'm very free
I am a Willow Tree, don't ever want to be me.
poem by Lucy Gocher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Gallows
There was a weasel lived in the sun
With all his family,
Till a keeper shot him with his gun
And hung him up on a tree,
Where he swings in the wind and rain,
In the sun and in the snow,
Without pleasure, without pain,
On the dead oak tree bough.
There was a crow who was no sleeper,
But a thief and a murderer
Till a very late hour; and this keeper
Made him one of the things that were,
To hang and flap in rain and wind,
In the sun and in the snow.
There are no more sins to be sinned
On the dead oak tree bough.
There was a magpie, too,
Had a long tongue and a long tail;
He could talk and do -
But what did that avail?
He, too, flaps in the wind and rain
Alongside weasel and crow,
Without pleasue, without pain,
On the dead oak tree bough.
And many other beasts
And birds, skin, bone, and feather,
Have been taken from their feasts
And hung up there together,
To swing and have endless leisure
In the sun and in the snow,
Without pain, without pleasure,
On the dead oak tree bough.
poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Small Hours
No more my little song comes back;
And now of nights I lay
My head on down, to watch the black
And wait the unfailing gray.
Oh, sad are winter nights, and slow;
And sad's a song that's dumb;
And sad it is to lie and know
Another dawn will come.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Visitant
1
A cloud moved close. The bulk of the wind shifted.
A tree swayed over water.
A voice said:
Stay. Stay by the slip-ooze. Stay.
Dearest tree, I said, may I rest here?
A ripple made a soft reply.
I waited, alert as a dog.
The leech clinging to a stone waited;
And the crab, the quiet breather.
2
Slow, slow as a fish she came,
Slow as a fish coming forward,
Swaying in a long wave;
Her skirts not touching a leaf,
Her white arms reaching towards me.
She came without sound,
Without brushing the wet stones,
In the soft dark of early evening,
She came,
The wind in her hair,
The moon beginning.
3
I woke in the first of morning.
Staring at a tree, I felt the pulse of a stone.
Where’s she now, I kept saying.
Where’s she now, the mountain’s downy girl?
But the bright day had no answer.
A wind stirred in a web of appleworms;
The tree, the close willow, swayed.
poem by Theodore Roethke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love's Seasons
When the bees are humming in the honeysuckle vine
And the summer days are in their bloom,
Then my love is deepest, oh, dearest heart of mine,
When the bees are humming in the honeysuckle vine.
When the winds are moaning o'er the meadows chill and gray,
And the land is dim with winter gloom,
Then for thee, my darling, love will have its way,
When the winds are moaning o'er the meadows chill and gray.
In the vernal dawning with the starting of the leaf,
In the merry-chanting time of spring,
Love steals all my senses, oh, the happy-hearted thief!
In the vernal morning with the starting of the leaf.
Always, ever always, even in the autumn drear,
When the days are sighing out their grief,
Thou art still my darling, dearest of the dear,
Always, ever always, even in the autumn drear.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gonna Creep Up On You
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna gonna
The writing on the wall showed the scandal
Pointed out the victim of the vandal
The lady was upset by the angle
Scratch your back and hot to handle
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna gonna
Youre sly, youre slick, youre sleek, youre outstanding
My legs are week, my heart, it beats, its pounding
Soon youre gonna weep in your sleepless surrounding
'cause Im the one taking you down for grounding
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna creep up on you
Im gonna gonna
Little lady let me take a little bit of your love
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On Hearing A Grey Shrike Thrush
The grey shrike thrush on branch of mountain gray
At twilight of a most Unspring like day
On October eve made damp by drizzling rain
And grey bird sing his same song o'er again
And freshening wind has breath of winter sting
Seems more like Winter now than middle Spring
And wind driven rain fall from the darkening sky
And still the gray thrush pipes his notes of joy.
I wonder why he sing so merrily
On low down branch of noble gray gum tree
Could it be that he can tell from inner eye
That tomorrow's weather will be warm and dry? .
Or could he sing that in some nearby tree
His wife on nest shelter new family
And he tell his neighbours this my territory
And I'm now a dad 'oh lucky happy me'? .
And why he sing should it matter anyway
His song at close of wet October day
The weather dreary for the time of year
But grey thrush's notes sweet music to the ear.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Day
The trees rustle; the wind blows
Merrily out of the town;
The shadows creep, the sun goes
Steadily over and down.
In a brown gloom the moats gleam;
Slender the sweet wife stands;
Her lips are red; her eyes dream;
Kisses are warm on her hands.
The child moans; the hours slip
Bitterly over her head:
In a gray dusk, the tears drip;
Mother is up there-dead.
The hermit hears the strange bright
Murmur of life at play;
In the waste day and waste night
Times to rebel and to pray.
The laborer toils in gray wise,
Godlike and patient and calm;
The beggar moans; his bleared eyes
Measure the dust in his palm.
The wise man, marks the flow and ebb
Hidden and held aloof:
In his deep mind is laid the web,
Shuttles are driving the woof.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet. To A Lady Seen For A Few Moments At Vauxhall
Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb,
Long hours have to and fro let creep the sand,
Since I was tangled in thy beauty's web,
And snared by the ungloving of thine hand.
And yet I never look on midnight sky,
But I behold thine eyes' well memory'd light;
I cannot look upon the rose's dye,
But to thy cheek my soul doth take its flight.
I cannot look on any budding flower,
But my fond ear, in fancy at thy lips
And hearkening for a love-sound, doth devour
Its sweets in the wrong sense: -- Thou dost eclipse
Every delight with sweet remembering,
And grief unto my darling joys dost bring.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Willow-Tree
Know ye the willow-tree
Whose gray leaves quiver,
Whispering gloomily
To yon pale river;
Lady, at even-tide
Wander not near it,
They say its branches hide
A sad, lost spirit?
Once to the willow-tree
A maid came fearful,
Pale seemed her cheek to be,
Her blue eye tearful;
Soon as she saw the tree,
Her step moved fleeter,
No one was there—ah me!
No one to meet her!
Quick beat her heart to hear
The far bell's chime
Toll from the chapel-tower
The trysting time:
But the red sun went down
In golden flame,
And though she looked round,
Yet no one came!
Presently came the night,
Sadly to greet her,—
Moon in her silver light,
Stars in their glitter;
Then sank the moon away
Under the billow,
Still wept the maid alone—
There by the willow!
Through the long darkness,
By the stream rolling,
Hour after hour went on
Tolling and tolling.
Long was the darkness,
Lonely and stilly;
Shrill came the night-wind,
Piercing and chilly.
Shrill blew the morning breeze,
Biting and cold,
Bleak peers the gray dawn
Over the wold.
Bleak over moor and stream
Looks the grey dawn,
Gray, with dishevelled hair,
Still stands the willow there—
THE MAID IS GONE!
Domine, Domine!
Sing we a litany,—
Sing for poor maiden-hearts broken and weary;
Domine, Domine!
Sing we a litany,
Wail we and weep we a wild Miserere!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cold winter night
It was a cold winter night.
All was deadly still.
My guts so tight
I must kill!
The cry of a wolf enters my head
Like a train whistle that echoes far away.
Can it be…something lives on this winter night?
Follow the sound and pray
It does not go away.
My hunger juices flowing; I go.
I and the wolf both now know
Neither is alone in the land of snow.
Oh, how I wish I had his sight
On this cold winter night
The north wind moved in the night before.
The ground all snow and bitter cold…so bitter cold.
The sky filled with stars.
The snow grows old.
My guts so tight
What a cold, cold winter night!
The wolf stays hidden from my sight
With it’s furry coat of gray and white.
He glides across the snow without sound
Like a ballerina tiptoeing over the ground.
My guts so tight
On this bitter cold winter night
I with my blood running slow
My hands burning cold; my face red glow
Driven by the pain in my gut
On this cold-cold bitter winter night
I must kill
To make the night still
So the hunger pains
Will be gone again
I hear nothing on this cold winter night
My hair stands up on the back of my neck
I fear the wolf knows
I turn
Crutch to spring
His fangs showing white; my knife in my hand
We circle like two roosters in a pen.
For one this will be the end.
The pain in my gut is still tight
I will kill but not for the trill
On such a killing bitter cold winter night
With the grace of a cat he springs to flight
My throat his aim on this cold winter night
My knife hits his heart…he hunches in pain;
His fangs rip my throat cutting the jugular vein.
The snows now stain on this cold winter night.
Blood and flesh flung upon the snow
Cries of pain, moans of death…soon will go
From this bitter cold ground
All is still on winter’s playground.
The wolf dances no more
My lips move but there is no sound.
My gut is still tight
I feel alright
No more time to fight
On this bitter cold winter night
Wind and snow now fill the air.
The wolf has an empty den.
The snow will be tracked no more.
Twinkle, twinkle little star
Genocide complete
In a galaxy so far
poem by Ronald Brissette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Suicidal
The days pass slow,
as suicide creeps up.
It's always on your mind,
it never goes away.
Suicidal is what they call it.
It creep up,
Them BAM! ! You're gone,
Your parents walk in,
all they see is your spiritless body.
Right beside you is your suicide note.
Saying how no one cared.
They start crying.
They lost there baby girl.
Thinking to themselves
where did it all go wrong?
First they were planning a wedding
Now they're planning a funeral.
That day came,
Everyone dressed in black.
Crying is the word I'm looking for.
Why now? Why do they care now?
As my lifeless body lays in the golden brown coffin,
I didn't know what to think,
Was it you or me hurting more?
poem by Chelseacrazylove Page
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Winters Day
Winter,
the cold freezes my thoughts,
freezes my feelings
the wind bites at my face
the snow falls almost as if its in slow motion,
as if im in slow motion
time seems none exsistant
color fades to white
sound becomes silence
the light casts over the snow which glistens like diamonds
color is covered with white
sound becomes silence
the light casts over the snow which glistens like diamonds
There's a cold breeze in my face
I feel the winter come with its peace
The beauty is hard to imagine
But winter is a sight to see
poem by Aaron Mac Lean
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fragment Of A Sleep-Song
SISTER Simplicitie,
Sing, sing a song to me,
Sing me to sleep.
Some legend low and long,
Slow as the summer song
Of the dull Deep.
Some legend long and low,
Whose equal ebb and flow
To and fro creep
On the dim marge of gray
’Tween the soul’s night and day,
Washing “awake” away
Into “asleep.”
Some legend low and long,
Never so weak or strong
As to let go
While it can hold this heart
Withouten sigh or smart,
Or as to hold this heart
When it sighs “No.”
Some long low swaying song,
As the sway’d shadow long
Sways to and fro
Where, thro’ the crowing cocks,
And by the swinging clocks,
Some weary mother rocks
Some weary woe.
Sing up and down to me
Like a dream-boat at sea,
So, and still so,
Float through the “then” and “when,”
Rising from when to then,
Sinking from then to when
While the waves go.
Low and high, high and low,
Now and then, then and now,
Mow, now;
And when the now is then, and when the then is now,
And when the low is high, and when the high is low,
Low, low;
Let me float, let the boat
Go, go;
Let me glide, let me slide
Slow, slow;
Gliding boat, sliding boat,
Slow, slow;
Glide away, slide away
So, so.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Girl In The Sunset
Girl in the sunset
I only saw you for a second
Yet your voice penetrated my brain
And echoed endlessly
'Stay with me' you cried
As Your golden blond hair was spinning
And as your lavender shirt caught the slow warm wind's
Under a palm tree that was swaying back and forth in that very same wind
I cannot put a name to your face
Yet you looked so familiar
Were have I seen you before?
In my many years of sailing to come will we ever meet?
That sense of togetherness I felt was indescribable
Passion I have not felt in nearly a decade
Girl in the sunset
I wish to stay under that palm tree
And view the orange sunset with you in my arms in that slow blowing warm winds
On that cobblestone road
Why do you elude me?
When will I find you?
I think I found you
But you are not “her” yet
Girl in the sunset
Please wait for me...
poem by Mike Casola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!