What The Snow Man Said
The Moon’s a snowball. See the drifts
Of white that cross the sphere.
The Moon’s a snowball, melted down
A dozen times a year.
Yet rolled again in hot July
When all my days are done
And cool to greet the weary eye
After the scorching sun.
The moon’s a piece of winter fair
Renewed the year around,
Behold it, deathless and unstained,
Above the grimy ground!
It rolls on high so brave and white
Where the clear air-rivers flow,
Proclaiming Christmas all the time
And the glory of the snow!
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Related quotes
The Light o' the Moon
[How different people and different animals look upon the moon: showing that each creature finds in it his own mood and disposition]
The Old Horse in the City
The moon's a peck of corn. It lies
Heaped up for me to eat.
I wish that I might climb the path
And taste that supper sweet.
Men feed me straw and scanty grain
And beat me till I'm sore.
Some day I'll break the halter-rope
And smash the stable-door,
Run down the street and mount the hill
Just as the corn appears.
I've seen it rise at certain times
For years and years and years.
What the Hyena Said
The moon is but a golden skull,
She mounts the heavens now,
And Moon-Worms, mighty Moon-Worms
Are wreathed around her brow.
The Moon-Worms are a doughty race:
They eat her gray and golden face.
Her eye-sockets dead, and molding head:
These caverns are their dwelling-place.
The Moon-Worms, serpents of the skies,
From the great hollows of her eyes
Behold all souls, and they are wise:
With tiny, keen and icy eyes,
Behold how each man sins and dies.
When Earth in gold-corruption lies
Long dead, the moon-worm butterflies
On cyclone wings will reach this place —
Yea, rear their brood on earth's dead face.
What the Snow Man Said
The Moon's a snowball. See the drifts
Of white that cross the sphere.
The Moon's a snowball, melted down
A dozen times a year.
Yet rolled again in hot July
When all my days are done
And cool to greet the weary eye
After the scorching sun.
The moon's a piece of winter fair
Renewed the year around,
Behold it, deathless and unstained,
Above the grimy ground!
It rolls on high so brave and white
Where the clear air-rivers flow,
Proclaiming Christmas all the time
And the glory of the snow!
What the Scare-crow Said
The dim-winged spirits of the night
Do fear and serve me well.
They creep from out the hedges of
The garden where I dwell.
I wave my arms across the walk.
The troops obey the sign,
And bring me shimmering shadow-robes
And cups of cowslip-wine.
Then dig a treasure called the moon,
A very precious thing,
And keep it in the air for me
Because I am a King.
What Grandpa Mouse Said
The moon's a holy owl-queen.
She keeps them in a jar
Under her arm till evening,
Then sallies forth to war.
She pours the owls upon us.
They hoot with horrid noise
And eat the naughty mousie-girls
And wicked mousie-boys.
So climb the moonvine every night
And to the owl-queen pray:
Leave good green cheese by moonlit trees
For her to take away.
And never squeak, my children,
Nor gnaw the smoke-house door:
The owl-queen then will love us
And send her birds no more.
The Beggar Speaks
"What Mister Moon Said to Me."
Come, eat the bread of idleness,
Come, sit beside the spring:
Some of the flowers will keep awake,
Some of the birds will sing.
Come, eat the bread no man has sought
For half a hundred years:
Men hurry so they have no griefs,
Nor even idle tears:
They hurry so they have no loves:
They cannot curse nor laugh —
Their hearts die in their youth with neither
Grave nor epitaph.
My bread would make them careless,
And never quite on time —
Their eyelids would be heavy,
Their fancies full of rhyme:
Each soul a mystic rose-tree,
Or a curious incense tree:
Come, eat the bread of idleness,
Said Mister Moon to me.
What the Forester Said
The moon is but a candle-glow
That flickers thro' the gloom:
The starry space, a castle hall:
And Earth, the children's room,
Where all night long the old trees stand
To watch the streams asleep:
Grandmothers guarding trundle-beds:
Good shepherds guarding sheep.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Christmas Comes And Goes
christmas comes with snowball making
christmas comes with snowball fight
christmas comes with santa claus
christmas comes with decoration of trees
christmas comes with church bell ringing
christmas comes with new year
and does with the old year
christmas comes with presents given
and collecting
and goes with nothing
poem by Esther Obeng
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The New Moon
What have you got in your knapsack fair,
White moon, bright moon, pearling the air,
Spinning your bobbins and fabrics free,
Fleet moon, sweet moon, in to the sea?
Turquoise and beryl and rings of gold,
Clear moon, dear moon, ne’er to be sold?
Roses and lilies, romance and love,
Still moon, chill moon, swinging above?
Slender your feet as a white birds throat,
High moon, shy moon, drifting your boat
Into the murk of the world awhile,
Slim moon, dim moon, adding a smile.
Tender your eyes as a maiden’s kiss,
Fine moon, wine moon, no one knows this,
Under the spell of your witchery,
Dream moon, cream moon, first he kissed me.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
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More Lovely phrases winter 09
Silvery angels,
Clear cold crystal creeks
Fresh Christmas trees
Frost reddened cheeks
Plump pillows of snow
Pine boughs in repose
Crystalline snowflakes
Cold lunar moon glows
Tangles of tinsel
Rainbows of lights
Presents beribboned
Kaleidoscope sights
Sprinkles of stardust
Icy white, moon beams
Crisp crackle of winter
Happy Christmas eve dreams
More random phrases
This time tis of cold and ice
With no plan and no pattern
To you I pray they sound nice
I’d like to say to ye, before I go
A very merry Christmas and
a happy new year to ye all
From a humble poet….
David O
poem by David Whalen
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Playing Golf at Midnight
Playing golf in the moonlight,
at midnight, at night, when light
cannot be trusted, when sight
deceives, it can’t be right.
He drives the sphere with the craters
like the moon, white like the moon,
orbiting like the moon; soon
it will collide with grass or sand, and
the black night will swallow the white
moon and the driving sphere
and no one will know where
went the white and where went the black
and why.
And after the ball has divorced its tee
and after the moon laughs
and retires behind the roofs
of the neighborhood houses,
the silence of the green
and the heartbreaking loveliness
of the green emerge and converge
and here in the suburban
wilderness, the only home he has,
he sees for the first time
how clouds absorb
and disperse
the light of the moon.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
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Why Look At The Moon
Willows were swaying
The water was rippling
The froggies were singing
Along with the laughing at the bank
We have the moon to thank
For this lovely scene
We might never have seen
If it hadnt have been for the moon
Why, look at that moon
Away up high, seeing everything
That goes by
Why, look at that moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Sitting in the desert
Beneath a lonesome sky
Cool, my oh my, it would be
If it never been above
That fateful little boy
That one who has beheld true love through history
Why must it start?
Why must lovers part?
Why does the cheatin go on?
Why have hearts turned to stone?
Why, look at that moon
Away up high, seeing everything
That goes by
Why, look at that moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Why, why, why, look at the moon
Why, look at that moon
Aint it grand!
Why, look at that moon
Helps me understand
Why, look at that moon
Inspirator of many a dream
Why, look at that moon
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Snowball Is Back With His Hens
Poor snowball the white silky bantam cock not feeling well of late
His son big red has thrashed him he is in a sorry state
Dried blood on his neck feathers from the comb he has bled
He has really copped a hiding from his oldest offspring red.
Red and his half sibling cock white silky bantams by Steve and Annie to be sold
Around the yard with their parent hens they won't grow tired and old
In the fowl pen they are obliged to wait tomorrow at the break of day
Steve will take them in a box to the fowl dealing woman in the house across the way.
Snowball is back with his hens his aggressive son now behind lettuce wire
Will never have another chance of attacking his snow white sire
Snowball is Steve and Annie's favourite rooster and they decide who stay
And violence as big red will find out it does not always pay.
Snowball the silky bantam cock he crows in the backyard
With dried blood on his neck feathers and his comb from warring scarred
And tomorrow big red will be gone and snowball again will reign supreme
And he will recover from his wounds and regain his self esteem.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Moon After Day
Moon shed a tear
Moon give me fear
Moon light my way
Moon after day
Moon give me strength
Moon has no length
What I want to say,
Is Moon after day
Moon is full
Moon is dull
Moon light my way
Moon after day
Moon is my life
Moon gave me a knife
Moon slit my wrist
Moon a wonderful bliss
What I want to say
Moon after day!
Moon Is Like You
Moon will my beam cross over?
Moon how too know I am so lonely.
Moon know, why I do sit under you?
Moon You are so bright, I reach up,
into and touch yours is very heavenly.
Moon why do you blink? Moon so pink.
Moon like you, we are to much similar
and have only one way up into moon.
Moon our faces reflect out and within.
Moon they all do, moon when you do.
poem by Is It Poetry
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White Powder Christmas
White Powder Christmas….,
Not that kind of white powder…..,
I mean the tiny pretty flakes…..,
In a little snow shower…..,
That covers the fields…..,
And blankets the trees….,
Makes it look so frosty……,
In the winter breeze……,
As we sleigh ride and laugh….,
Havin’ so much fun……,
Bells are jinglin’……,
This time of year is number one….,
White Powder Christmas…..,
It’s a White Powder Christmas….! ! !
poem by Trade Martin
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On Fire Inside A Snowball
Whenever I look out french windows
It's always snowing outside.
And feel your body relax on mine,
Giving me all the good lines,
(Uh-huh)
All the good lines,
All the good lines...
Hot in the ice,
On fire inside,
A snowball.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
Hot in the ice,
On fire inside,
A snowball.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
A crystal layer of ice on our skin:
Very numb outside but warm within.
I bend to join our lips, but it's too cold
To kiss and hit. Is it you I'm feeling?
Is it you I'm feeling?
(Yeah)
Is it you I'm feeling?
Hot in the ice,
On fire inside,
A snowball.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
Hot in the ice,
On fire inside,
A snowball.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
Ah, but she's wonderful,
Set in the snow.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moon Moon
When Moon Moon says
In case of me
To be a quite poet is possible
In addition, I have to be a cool.
When Moon Moon says
The days have to face
Good ways
To begin its first hour
To get its special power.
When Moon Moon says
I cannot hear anybody’s voice
When Moon Moon says
I can realize my age
To do something better
Not caring any matter.
When Moon Moon says
I can guess
She says something special
Those are needed for all.
When Moon Moon says
I have to face
Some case in any case.
When Moon Moon says
Sometimes, no case can be found
Without she says, like
“Hi! How are you
For the few
With your near dear
Are there any tears in your eyes?
When she says…”
Man can be silent
Ocean can be island
He can be brilliant
Even
You can be toys
When Moon Moon says.
When Moon Moon says
All guys are nice
To play with their lives.
When Moon Moon says
Everything seems to us
Like a touch
Of heart,
And
That is a part
Of our life
To survive.
When Moon Moon says
Man pays attention much
Because, what she says, is a touch.
If Moon Moon doesn’t say anything
Then for her not saying
All will be dying.
When she stops saying
Everything seems to me lying.
When she will say
I may
Wait for her
Than other
For sine-dine
Even until I die.
poem by Manir Hossain
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When Its My My Time To Lie Down
When its my time to lay down and rest
no box do I want to lay please dry your
tears my family dear I wont stay gone
for long, I'll come to you each year I'll
I'll come to you in my favorite time
of year and place
Look for me when the trees and houses
look like a white frosted wedding cake
look for me in that first Christmas Snow.
Each year you'll know its me I'll be that
first Christmas wind that blows upon
your face.
Remember this is my favorite time
and place look out on Christmas
night and I'll be in your sight.
see the glimmer upon the new
Christmas snow it will be me
smiling back to you,
Lay down and make Christmas
Snow Angels for then I'll be able
to touch you for you I love so much..
I'll be back next year at the same
time.
GAYLE ANNE GOFF
DECEMBER 2008
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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A Time Of the Year
It is funny how memories
of old friends appear
at just around Christmas
every year.
Your mind drifts off to places
you used to know
and all the fun
you used to enjoy there.
Back to the school days
how joyous they were,
but ask anyone how they felt about them
and they’ll tell you they hated it there.
In truth, it was the best years of our lives.
A time before the world
and its pressures closed in,
a time of laughter, no tears there.
Lazy days of summers
that seemed to last all year,
and at Christmas
everyone’s favourite time of the year,
gifts spilled out from the bottom of the tree.
Those times are all now gone,
but we can still relive
the joys we used to know
through the eyes of our children
and their children
at this time of the year.
12 December 2007
poem by David Harris
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Fragment
Moon of leaves,
Moon of the falling leaves,
To you I bring the slippers
of the sun.
That you may dance upon the
floor of sun,
My lady carries sun within her eyes.
Moon of the Unrevealed,
Moon of the gold-encrusted shield,
To you I bring the fragment
of my prayer.
Moon of the crinkled hair,
Tell me, will my lady yield
Eyes and mouth and breasts unsealed?
Will my lady yield?
Moon of the yellow streaked with red,
Moon that the sun would lead to bed,
Moon with the death's head
More than dead,
Why do you frighten the Goddess of Love,
Whose frail white fingers are moving above
The lover's white body lost in his love?
Moon, you are more than dead.
Moon of the ermine loist in the snow,
Moon of the frozen furbelow,
Moon of the nothingness here below,
Moon, you must go.
It is the Sun that tells you so-
Moon, you must go.
And I was dark beneath the moon,
And you were dark beneath the moon,
And we were dark beneath the moon.
Now I am gold beneath the sun,
Now you are gold beneath the sun,
Now we are gold beneath the Sun.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Where Are You Snow
Thus the year,
Where there are no,
White fluffy fields,
Of snow,
Where you,
Can run outside,
In the snow covered,
Mountains,
But this year,
There is no snow,
Why can't we go out,
To play in the snow,
No snow,
No white Christmas
poem by Bethany Williams
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Earth and Moon
When Hadean Earth was magma sea, an impact cleaved the Moon,
And eons since and eons hence, they dance in close commune.
The Earth has flourished under axis stabilizing boon,
The Moon's white face records a cannonade in craters strewn.
The Moon held tight and flooded night with light upon its birth,
Yet every year it draws away, the smallest finger's worth.
The Sun's and Moon's diameters and distance from the Earth,
Now perfectly in ratio, comparing length to girth.
The Moon appears the equal of the Sun in full eclipse,
The golden spray or ring it wears depending on ellipse.
Yet over time the Moon will fade and dwindle as it slips,
Beyond the weary, failing grip of Earth's fond fingertips.
poem by Diane Hine
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Here Comes The Moon
Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Silver Lily
The nights have grown cool again, like the nights
Of early spring, and quiet again. Will
Speech disturb you? We're
Alone now; we have no reason for silence.
Can you see, over the garden-the full moon rises.
I won't see the next full moon.
In spring, when the moon rose, it meant
Time was endless. Snowdrops
Opened and closed, the clustered
Seeds of the maples fell in pale drifts.
White over white, the moon rose over the birch tree.
And in the crook, where the tree divides,
Leaves of the first daffodils, in moonlight
Soft greenish-silver.
We have come too far together toward the end now
To fear the end. These nights, I am no longer even certain
I know what the end means. And you, who've been
With a man--
After the first cries,
Doesn't joy, like fear, make no sound?
poem by Louise Gluck
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