A Season of Cold
old man winters wrath is upon us now
arctic winds howl 'neath frosty boughs
snowy frozen vistas glisten like stars
chimneys have become smoking cigars
a cold sun rises with welcome rays
whitewashing time in a bright glaze
pothole footprints are scattered about
like deserted hoofprints marking a route
leafless trees line the hills and skies
barren and lifeless in there disguise
under a whitened full moon I shiver
while I traverse crystalline slivers
of frigid nether regions all around
where February prizes her crown
poem by Doug Jones
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Now Those Times Are Here Again (from Minutes of Falling Days)
Now those times are here again
When the days will become darker
And in the hearts of various men
Yesterdays shall become sparker
When the snow will fall and glow
Bringing chilliness and holidays
As each month to darkness will go
In the glisten down falling glaze
When the snow is back in here
Silvery white on a frozen earth
For now this time’s coming near
With its mistletoes and mirth
With its snow-white cold ice
Bracing windows in a frosty rose
Morning dark and twilight skies
When on treetops cold wind blows
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Mother Nature Can Be Fickle
Winter’s cold is Mother Nature’s way
Of saying, lie with me now, lay your head on my breast
It’s snow, a blanket under which to lay
Neath a crystal cover, enjoying winter's cold caress
Frost rimed windows … Mother Nature’s art
Icy abstractions painted with frosty finesse
Crystalline concoctions that form only a part
Of Mother Natures wonderful winter largesse
Ice coated limbs of slope shouldered trees
droop drowsily down as if fallen asleep
Unable to sway in winter’s frigid breeze
Appear as white mounds, when the snow drifts deep
The stillness one hears on cold winter nights
Broken by the sudden crack of ice laden boughs
The ethereal essence of undulating northern lights
Headlights in the sky for Nature’s snowplows
All is withdrawn, in awe of Nature’s might
Willingly waiting, deep neath frozen ground
Safely sequestered, from winter’s cruel bite
In warm tunnels and burrows, til spring comes around
Mother Nature invites winter into her domain
Cohabits with coldness, wantonly sleeps with Jack frost
Yet finds cold winter quickly falls to disdain
Invites in the spring…and tells winter to get lost
Mother Nature is fickle…and also the boss!
poem by David Whalen
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Winter Breeze
The winter breeze
Seems frigid to me.
As I sit in the park
All alone.
The limbs of the trees,
Don't sway or move
Along with the winter breeze...
The tire swing moves,
Occupant free...
While the leaf barren trees
Shiver in the winter breeze.
Even the most playful and darring children,
Wont be caught in the cold.
This winter breeze
Seems frigid to me....
I cant wait for spring....
poem by Ashley Wade
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In The Winter Woods
WINTER forests mutely standing
Naked on your bed of snow,
Wide your knotted arms expanding
To the biting winds that blow,
Nought ye heed of storm or stress,
Stubborn, silent, passionless.
Buried is each woodland treasure,
Gone the leaves and mossy rills,
Gone the birds that filled with pleasure
All the valleys and the hills;
Ye alone of all that host
Stand like soldiers at your post.
Grand old trees, the words ye mutter,
Nodding in the frosty wind,
Wake some thoughts I cannot utter,
But which haunt the heart and mind,
With a meaning, strange and deep,
As of visions seen in sleep.
Something in my inmost thinking
Tells me I am one with you,
For a subtle bond is linking
Nature's offspring through and through,
And your spirit like a flood
Stirs the pulses of my blood.
While I linger here and listen
To the crackling boughs above,
Hung with icicles that glisten
As if kindling into love,
Human heart and soul unite
With your majesty and might.
Horizontal, rich with glory,
Through the boughs the red sun's rays
Clothe you as some grand life-story
Robes an aged man with praise,
When, before his setting sun,
Men recount what he has done.
But the light is swiftly fading,
And the wind is icy cold,
And a mist the moon is shading,
Pallid in the western gold;
In the night-winds still ye nod,
Sentinels of Nature's God.
Now with laggard steps returning
To the world from whence I came,
Leave I all the great West burning
With the day that died in flame, .
And the stars, with silver ray,
Light me on my homeward way.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Celestial Warfare
The sun has fallen to rest,
And the moon shows up to play,
Clouds glaze the skies,
Racing with the arctic winds,
Attacking the lunar sphere,
Skies turn to black,
It seems the moon has died,
'What fallacy is this! ',
the Moon exclaims,
Reflected light piercing through the clouds,
'I will not leave this plane! '
Stars join in the brawl,
Flash of light radiates the earth,
a Star victim to the clouds.
Sun
The lantern of earth awakes,
Moon and Stars flee,
this Solar star perforates the Clouds,
Its sword a burning flame,
the Clouds counter with thickening,
the Sun struggles to maintain,
And unleashes its true prowess,
a Red Giant is formed,
the Clouds meet their demise,
the giant grasps them,
With its mighty flair,
Hungry for growth,
It turns on the moon,
David vs. Goliath,
Darkness falls upon our earth,
Cloudless skies raining Red,
the Moon has killed itself.
poem by Brandon Griffee
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Spring
Shiver shiver in the cold
Who is that standing out there bold
Primrose, Bluebell,
Crocus and the rest
Daffodills number amung the best
Willows covered with soft fur
Budding trees to occur.
The time is near..
To put away
The coat....
And winter gear..
Tank top, Shorts, strapless wear
Flaunt if you dare
Prisoner of the inside
now no more
The fire has moved
For you to store
Letting your spirit dance all free
Now let it be..
Restore the body and the soul
Outside freedom now lets go..
Torrid rays of the sun
Saying it is done
Melting the adhesive hold
Luquifying the icy cold
Winters grip is no longer bold
Greenery and flowers
It will bring
Birds in the trees giving you their sing
Shiver shiver
In the past
Now you are laying on the grass....
poem by Howard Johnson
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An Autumn Night
An autumn night, so bitter chill it is
An owl, for all its plum and thick feathers is cold
The hare long ago rushed limping trembling through the frozen maze
Into a lair, and silent stark are the song birds on a woody enfold
Naked trees with barren boughs, no leaf does tremble, no ripple there
On the streets, all abandoned still under the night sleepy eye
The world so deserted from any human sign or care
Darkness reign on dreary routes with echoing cry
And the moon whether prudish or shy in this cold night
Has fled to her bower, well reluctant to lend her dimming light
No light in this oppressing darkness, no fume no torch in the gloom
Is this world ever waken, do these trees ever bloom
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Arctic Moon
Arctic moon—you rise like a cold memory
From the bleak black boiling sea.
Arctic moon—your yellow light dances
With the limber aurora borealis.
Arctic moon—you glide across
A world of darkness and loss.
Arctic moon—you yet reveal
The beauty that winter would conceal.
poem by William Graham
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Travis Moonrise
Over barren trees
the tattered moon
ascends, barely clearing
dark hills
pausing, unwilling
to fall back
into cold, delta fog,
like the lumbering C-5
rising through the gloom
on bright thunderbolts
to December's
bleeding moon.
poem by Steven Federle
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Season Come Season Go
Season come and season go
Tis the moon change in the
Season
A neon orange moon glisten in
The night..
As the moon shine his brightest
Is there a light inside the moon
While that little boy sit’s and fishes
Off the moon
Can you see him all relax and laid
Back
With his fishing pole dangling off the
Tip of the moon
Can you see how cold the moon
Appear in the midst of January
Brew..
The season come and season go
The orange moon glisten in the
Night..
As
The frosty chill cover’s the land from
An age “ole” neon orange moon visit
The night.
Which being his time to shine in the
Midst of January brew
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Winter Night
Small creatures shiver in their lairs
While the full moon is strangled by the tree
Whose branches wrestle with the wind,
Scraping, groaning ceaselessly.
In deep discomfort, deprived of sleep,
I get up from my barren bed,
Draw back my curtains
And see the cold night bristle with stars.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Oath Of A Friend
I'll stand unmoved like the mountains
face all weathers and seasons
time will pass where I remain
the stars will look down on me
as eternal heavens watching
the skies above will stretch endless
horizons will be a backdrop
and here, here I shall stand resolute
take shelter in my arms
find comfort within my heart
discover peace in my soul
trust in my oath I shall not be moved
the winds may howl and bite
the rains may well be cold
but like the mountains, the stars
the skies above and time itself
I will remain here with you
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Father Winter
Welcome back home Father Winter
we have waited all year for you.
Your lovely trees, so tall
their branches now bare
they stand there waving you
back home you brought with you
your winter jewels, now they hang
on those naked branches.
The summer flowers, have
now laid down for a long winters
nap their waiting for you to cover
them with your winter blanket.
Your blanket will keep them
warm till spring then they'll
all pop up and sing.
Now all the small animals have
laid their heads down too sweet
dreams every thing will awake to
fresh new season.
You have dressed everything for
Christmas. your ice snow flakes
have landed on our pond it looks
looks like big white frosted glass
mirror it also created beautiful
glass like ornaments that
hang on the ever green trees.
Your cold fluffy snow lays upon
their branches it drapes like a
pearl necklace among their branches
they all look so lovely.
The winter clouds that you have blown
in float beneath the stars so bright
the full moon shines down upon the
hill tops all covered in your beauty.
The fresh snow glistens like stars
and silver gliter it looks like
millions of diamondseen have been
scattered on the beaten paths.
Your winter air smell so crisp
and cold as you speak, you can
see your breath in \the cold air
the only lights are from the new
full winter moon.
As you can see Father Winter has
blown, in with such briskness.
Every where you now look,
now looks bright and fresh.
Little children have started the
count down.To that special
night which is not to far off in sight.
And like ''SANTA'
You'll be gone, in the wink
of an eye.
We thank you for all the beauty
that you have given us, you'll
only last a while upon you I'll
walk a brisk mile.
We'll love you as long as you'll
last..Upon your snow we'll
dance and play.
We'll do this each cold day..
Until you melt away.
and then we'll say a sad good-bye.,
GAYLE ANNE GOFF
DECEMBER
2008
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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Mount Kunchenjunga
Till its bright, till ones' sight,
It’s all white, it’s all white.
Silver flakes have covered,
Or billion tonnes milk is poured;
From here, clouds look down,
It is my Countrys' Crown.
Cloth of snow is spread
and Snowy is the run,
Rocks & plants have to wait,
Months, to see the sun;
Snowy mountain wearing
snowy gown,
It is my countrys' crown.
The horizon turns golden
In the morning Sun rays,
Springs fall shouting
Give me the way;
A place, like Angels' town,
It is my countrys' crown.
The God’s unique architect,
Beyond ones' belief;
Creatures stepping here,
Surely get relief;
A Wonder place, nature has grown;
It is my countrys' crown.
(c) S.D. Tiwari
email [email protected]
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Tis the witching hour of night,
Orbed is the moon and bright,
And the stars they glisten, glisten,
Seeming with bright eyes to listen
For what listen they?
quote by John Keats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen For what listen they
quote by John Keats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Evening Reflection
1
The day conceals its brilliant face,
And dark night covers up the fields,
Black shadows creep upon the hills,
Light's rays recede from us.
Before us gapes a well of stars -
Stars infinite, well fathomless.
2
A grain of sand in ocean swells,
A tiny glint in endless ice,
Fine ash caught in a mighty gale,
A feather in a raging fire,
So I am lost in this abyss,
Oppressed by thoughts profound.
3
The mouths of wise men call to us:
"A multitude of worlds dwell there,
Among them burning suns untold,
And peoples, and the wheel of time:
There, all of nature's strength
Exists God's glory to proclaim"
4
But where, O nature, is your law?
Dawn breaks from out of northern lands!
Is this the home of our sun's throne?
Or are the icy oceans burning?
Behold, cold fire envelops us!
Behold, now day has entered night.
5
O thou, whose lively gaze can see
Into the book of law eternal,
For whom the smallest part of things
Reveals the code in all of nature,
Thou comprehendeth planets' course,
Now tell us what disturbs our souls?
6
Why do these bright rays sparkle in the night?
Why does fine flame assault the land?
Without a thundercloud can lightning
Rise from the earth up toward the heavens?
How can it be that frozen steam
Gives birth to fire from winter's depths?
7
There, oily darkness battles water,
Or rays of sunlight sparkle bright,
Bend toward us through the thickened air;
Or do the peaks of stout hills glow,
Or have the sea winds ceased their song,
And smooth waves struck the space.
8
Regarding what lies right before us
Thine answer's full of doubts
O, tell us, how enormous is the world?
What lies beyond the smallest stars?
Are thou aware of all creation's end?
Tell us, how great is our Creator?
poem by Mikhail Vasilyevich Lomonosov
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And Thou Art One
And Thou art One--One with th' eternal hills,
And with the flaming stars, and with the moon,
Translucent, cold. The sentinel of noon
That clothes the sky in robes of light and fills
The earth with warmth, the flowering fields, the rills,
The waving trees, the south wind's elfin rune,
Are One with Thee. All nature is in tune
With Thee, O Father, God--and if one wills
To humbly walk the fragrant, leaf-strewn path
And kneel in reverence 'neath the vaulted sky,
Hearing the hymnals of the waving trees
And prayers of the soughing winds--what hath
He less of heaven in him than we, who cry,
"God in our creeds doth dwell and not in these?"
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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Winter-Time
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding cake.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Sonnet LXXXIX: The Trees of the Garden
Ye who have passed Death's haggard hills; and ye
Whom trees that knew your sires shall cease to know
And still stand silent:—is it all a show,—
A wisp that laughs upon the wall?—decree
Of some inexorable supremacy
Which ever, as man strains his blind surmise
From depth to ominous depth, looks past his eyes,
Sphinx-faced with unabashèd augury?
Nay, rather question the Earth's self. Invoke
The storm-felled forest-trees moss-grown to-day
Whose roots are hillocks where the children play;
Or ask the silver sapling 'neath what yoke
Those stars, his spray-crown's clustering gems, shall wage
Their journey still when his boughs shrink with age.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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