The Scarecrow
All winter through I bow my head
beneath the driving rain;
the North Wind powders me with snow
and blows me black again;
at midnight 'neath a maze of stars
I flame with glittering rime,
and stand above the stubble, stiff
as mail at morning-prime.
But when that child called Spring, and all
his host of children come,
scattering their buds and dew upon
these acres of my home,
some rapture in my rags awakes;
I lift void eyes and scan
the sky for crows, those ravening foes,
of my strange master, Man.
I watch him striding lank behind
his clashing team, and know
soon will the wheat swish body high
where once lay a sterile snow;
soon I shall gaze across a sea
of sun-begotten grain,
which my unflinching watch hath sealed
for harvest once again.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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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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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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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!
The Fallen Leaves
I.
WE stand among the fallen leaves,
Young children at our play,
And laugh to see the yellow things
Go rustling on their way:
Right merrily we hunt them down,
The autumn winds and we,
Nor pause to gaze where snow-drifts lie,
Or sunbeams gild the tree:
With dancing feet we leap along
Where wither'd boughs are strown;
Nor past nor future checks our song--
The present is our own.
II.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In youth's enchanted spring--
When Hope (who wearies at the last)
First spreads her eagle wing.
We tread with steps of conscious strength
Beneath the leafless trees,
And the colour kindles on our cheek
As blows the winter breeze;
While, gazing towards the cold grey sky,
Clouded with snow and rain,
We wish the old year all past by,
And the young spring come again.
III.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In manhood's haughty prime--
When first our pausing hearts begin
To love 'the olden time;'
And, as we gaze, we sigh to think
How many a year hath pass'd
Since 'neath those cold and faded trees
Our footsteps wander'd last;
And old companions--now perchance
Estranged, forgot, or dead--
Come round us, as those autumn leaves
Are crush'd beneath our tread.
IV.
We stand among the fallen leaves
In our own autumn day--
And, tott'ring on with feeble steps,
Pursue our cheerless way.
We look not back--too long ago
Hath all we loved been lost;
Nor forward--for we may not live
To see our new hope cross'd:
But on we go--the sun's faint beam
A feeble warmth imparts--
Childhood without its joy returns--
The present fills our hearts!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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The first Snow for M 'lady Tara
Now almost imperceptibly the snow is falling steadily.
Unruffled by the slightest breeze to coat the branches of the trees
with layers of the purest white which sparkle in the pale moonlight.
A sight that’s pleasing to my eyes. Beneath the trees a blanket lies
as yet a flimsy covering but it is slowly thickening.
As falling snow relentlessly, continues drifting quietly.
The world reverts to black and white. It is a bitter winter’s night
I sit and watch from my window backlit by the firelights glow.
I’m thankful that I need not go outdoors amidst the falling snow.
I am content to stay inside I much prefer my fireside.
Although it’s beautiful to see the snow descending steadily.
I am too old to brave the cold I leave that to the young and bold.
Tomorrow with the morning sun the children will be having fun.
With cries of glee they’ll greet the snow and I will watch from my window.
The antics of small girls and boys as they engage in childish ploys.
Just as I did so long ago when I could enjoy the snow.
One benefit of being old I stay inside when it is cold.
My aching bones will not permit me to do much more than sit
and watch the children as they play and remember my young days.
18/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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This Morning...
I awoke this morning blinded by the white
bare trees, plows and 10 inches of snow was all that was in my sight
the wind blew, now watch the feathery snow go
people shoveling and cars driving slow
snow covered roofs and snowflakes falling fast
me just wondering how long this beauty woud last
poem by Mckenzi Lew
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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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The Snow
The Snow, the snow
however so sweet,
The snow blows, glows
and that our treat
It topples, trims, melts, and goes,
Not even the experts; so called pros,
can accurately predict
how the snow blows
Even when we look at the sky,
We can see the snow come down,
and then it spreads it's wings and flies,
all over the town
That town is anxious
as it waits for the little snow,
all the children wait happily
as they all know;
that the snow will surley go,
and leave no trace behind
Hear now, Hear now
for it may be,
It's time, It's time
for the white snow to flee.
It's come, It's came
so please don't run,
come here, next year,
to have some more fun.
Jon VN
Winter Song
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Will the Summer come again?
Rain on houses, on the street,
Wetting all the people's feet,
Though they run with might and main.
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.
Will the Winter never go?
What do beggar children do
With no fire to cuddle to,
P'raps with nowhere warm to go?
Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.
Hail and ice, and ice and hail,
Water frozen in the pail.
See the robins, brown and red,
They are waiting to be fed.
Poor dears, battling in the gale!
Hail and ice, and ice and hail.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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When Winter Turns to Spring 1
Snow, snow, snow,
Snow on the ground,
Wind, wind, wind
Wind in the air,
These are the things
I like about winter,
But soon the season’s change,
They change four times a year,
No one can do anything about it,
So when winter turns to spring,
I will be down,
But I can look forward,
To next winter.
poem by Jatie Apple
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She thought of plum-blossom; touched the strings
Posted: Mon Mar 02,2009 1: 34 pm Post subject:
--------------------
She thought of plum blossom, touched the strings
Smiling gently in her mind
this mid-winter morning
at the thought of Spring
she wraps herself in padded cotton kimono,
tiptoes through the snow
to the plum tree;
touches so gently tips of twigs
where the buds, too,
warm at the thought of spring;
then bends down, parts the snow
so carefully,
where the shoots of crocus
will soon pull aside the snowy duvet;
stretch; look coyly at the sun;
returns in her own footsteps in the snow;
takes up the shamisen,
touches the strings; is about to sing;
instead she smiles; almost sighs, like a lover,
black almonds in the corner of her eyes;
sounds of shamisen
can be heard in the garden
this winter morning.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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In The Snow
in the snow i walk looking at everything coated in beautiful white
thoughts run through my head so many i cannot count
as i watch the snow fall i realize that its as beautiful as life itself
as i watch the snow fall i think of her and how i wish she could be beside me to see what i see just one last time
i cant help but wonder if she thought of me
in the snow there is something in the air i know i feel it so nice
there is something about the snow and the air that makes me think of you
as i get where i want to go
and step inside
snowflakes fall gentally off my hood
as i pound my feet the snow falls off and i become warm
the snow and ice that clazes me melts and falls
i know i will have to walk in the snow again
poem by Sandy Vanity
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The Crocuses
They heard the South wind sighing
A murmur of the rain;
And they knew that Earth was longing
To see them all again.
While the snow-drops still were sleeping
Beneath the silent sod;
They felt their new life pulsing
Within the dark, cold clod.
Not a daffodil nor daisy
Had dared to raise its head;
Not a fairhaired dandelion
Peeped timid from its bed;
Though a tremor of the winter
Did shivering through them run;
Yet they lifted up their foreheads
To greet the vernal sun.
And the sunbeams gave them welcome.
As did the morning air
And scattered o'er their simple robes
Rich tints of beauty rare.
Soon a host of lovely flowers
From vales and woodland burst;
But in all that fair procession
The crocuses were first.
First to weave for Earth a chaplet
To crown her dear old head;
And to beautify the pathway
Where winter still did tread.
And their loved and white haired mother
Smiled sweetly 'neath the touch,
When she knew her faithful children
Were loving her so much.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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The Piper On The Hills
A CHILD'S SONG
There sits a piper on the hill
Who pipes the livelong day,
And when he pipes both loud and shrill,
The frightened people say
‘The wind, the wind is blowing up,
'Tis rising to a gale.’
The women hurry to the shore
To watch some distant sail.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing to a gale.
But when he pipes all sweet and low,
The piper on the hill,
I hear the merry women go
With laughter, loud and shrill
‘The wind, the wind is coming south,
'Twill blow a gentle day.’
They gather on the meadow-land,
To toss the yellow hay.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Is blowing south to-day.
And in the morn, when winter comes,
To keep the piper warm,
The little Angels shake their wings
To make a feather storm
‘The snow, the snow has come at last!’
The happy children call,
And ‘ring around’ they dance in glee,
And watch the snowflakes fall.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
Has spread a snowy pall.
But when at night the piper plays,
I have not any fear,
Because God's windows open wide
The pretty tune to hear;
And when each crowding spirit looks,
From its star window-pane,
A watching mother may behold
Her little child again.
The wind, the wind, the wind, the wind,
May blow her home again.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
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Late Snow
Late winter snow gains impact
through element of surprise
and potential disappointment
burying, as it may,
the tender shoots of spring
Stepping on the toes
of springs first warming rain
the sudden return of snowflakes
guarantees a thicker flocking
on every branch and twig
Night’s chill will seal this fluff
like crystallizing sugar sets cake frosting
I would rather dream of green
buds on trees and shoots of flowers
spared swaddle beneath snow’s blanket
Such choice will not be given
Snow falls, snowfalls
till winter discerns its end
poem by Mary Havran
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The Will Of A Lover
Cover the ground with snow and white
Bury the town in soft moonlight
Watch the buildings flee from sight
On a lovers night
Chase the flakes with a windy blow
Wave them where they always go
Deep in wooded forest hollow
Where the trees dance slow
Lay us here, just her and I
Neath the snow and a lovers sky
Neath the snowflakes passing by
While lonely dies
Then let the trees and the moonlight sing
Let the snow and the cold wind bring
These flowers and stones to form a ring
And know that love’s not ending
Then bury us, just her and I
Neath the snow and a lovers sky
Neath the footfalls passing by
While lonely dies
poem by Ben Paynter
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Winter is getting on for the end
Grey snow,
flooded by the rays of sun,
thaws slowly,
in the rhythm of the spring birds music,
letting the earth
without its counterpane.
A snowdropp ventures
to raise its shoulders
over the little snow
that remained.
A snowdropp penetrates hardly
through the snow
that allows the snowdrop
to get a place,
and that bows
before a prince of spring.
From now on, winter
gathers its soldiers
and winter withdraws
to north,
where winter still rules
everywhere.
poem by Valentin Gabriel Cristea
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Love’s Harvest
Nay, do not quarrel with the seasons, dear,
Nor make an enemy of friendly Time.
The fruit and foliage of the failing year
Rival the buds and blossoms of its prime.
Is not the harvest moon as round and bright
As that to which the nightingales did sing?
And thou, that call'st thyself my satellite,
Wilt seem in Autumn all thou art in Spring.
When steadfast sunshine follows fitful rain,
And gleams the sickle where once passed the plough,
Since tender green hath grown to mellow grain,
Love then will gather what it scattereth now,
And, like contented reaper, rest its head
Upon the sheaves itself hath harvested.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Lullaby
Shall I stay or go
Through the door
Will the pen to flow
Watch the stars
Sleeps a chore
The moon is growing cold
It hangs like a sliver of tin
How do our dreams unfold
And why are my bones feeling thin
I watch my pen as though
My fingers could shatter like icicles
And before my eyes
Lie glittering and useless on a field of snow
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter in the sky
Winter rose in the sky
north wind shook
the tinsel of stars
from the porch of the Milky Way
and with a silver tinkling,
crivetz gathered the snow
from the shooting stars.
It is snowing with great snow flakes
over my heart star,
over the faded times' charm,
lonely snow eddy,
leaden twilight spreads
over cool crystal sparkles.
poem by Valentin Gabriel Cristea
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