En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Frosty on His Flag (Clementine Sweet)

frosty is lonely
he hangs from a winter blue flag by a pink-roofed house
being blown by a salt-sea breeze

he has no snow people to talk to
he ripples his cloth edges among the sky-high palm trees and
above the candy-green grass

frosty is an outcast
to contrast the deep blue of his flag lies the pale desert sky,
shot through with bright Cali sunshine

frosty is a picture of out-of-placement:
he hangs and he hangs
he sighs and he sighs
all the while homesick
all the while thinking
that sometimes, sometimes
irony is clementine sweet

poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flagging

The flag hangs limply now,
its better days blowing behind it,
it's colours fading.

I remember when its vibrancy
shone like the sunshine
as it billowed softly.

The flag hangs limply now,
behind me, just like my dreams
and I cannot touch tomorrow.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Frosty the Snow Dog

Frosty the Snow Dog, is a very lucky dog,
From a surprise beginning to a winning rescue on MAESSR's blog.

Frosty the Snow Dog, knew just what she had to do
When her rescue came it wouldn't be the same. she just had to make it thru

There must have been a reason why it happened all that day
Out of five, she made the strive, to make sure it went her way
For Frosty the Snow dog was as glad as she could be
She was on her way, that special day, to make sure I would agree.

Woofity woof woof, woofity woof woof, look at Frosty go
Woofity woof woof, woofity woof woof, as she planned it so!

Frosty the Snow Dog knew the ride would be real long
So she played the part to win my heart, and sang her special song.
Frosty the Snow Dog, thru all the twists and turns
Of the road ahead, she made her bed on my lap to make me learn.
That I came down that special day to pick her up and save
From being in a shelter, to a beloved pet I gave.

For Frosty the Snow Dog, a mission she was on
To get a home & to belong, now won't you sing along!

Merry Christmas! From Frosty, the Snow Dog! !

poem by Candi Lynn
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Frosty Wintry Themes

Another icy day
As winter continues on
A frosty glaze on everything
Creates a wintry song

Sparkling icicles hang delicately
From the barnyard fence
Cattle staring through the freeze
As their breath hangs in suspense

Beautiful ice coated ponds
Create the perfect skating rink
Children bundle up in their warmest
A winter paradise they think

Ah, look at the windmill
It has its own special charm
But with its winter coat of ice
Brings such magic to the farm

Yes, I love this time of year
It shows that nature has extremes
So get out and enjoy
The frosty wintry themes!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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Frosty The Snowman

Frosty the Snowman

Was a jolly happy soul

With a corncob pipe and a button nose

And two eyes made out of coal
Frosty the Snowman

Is a fairytale they say

He was made of snow

But the children know

How he came to life one day
There must have been some magic

In that old silk hat they found

For when they placed it on his head

He began to dance around
Frosty the Snowman

Was alive as he could be

And the children say

He could laugh and play

Just the same as you and me
Frosty the Snowman

Knew the sun was hot that day

So he said let's run

And we'll have some fun

Now before I melt away
Down to the village

With a broomstick in his hand

Running here and there all around the square

Saying catch me if you can
He led them down the streets of town

Right to the traffic cop

And he only paused a moment when

He heard him holler stop
Frosty the Snowman

Had to hurry on his way

But he waved goodbye

Saying don't you cry

I'll be back again some day
Thumpety thump thump

Thumpety thump thump

Look at Frosty go

Thumpety thump thump

Thumpety thump thump

Over the hills of snow

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frosty The Snowman

Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul
With a corn cop pipe and a button nose
And two eyes made out of coal
Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say
He was made out of snow
But the children know how he came to life one day
There must of been some magic in
That ol silk cap they found
For when they placed it on his head
He began to dance around
Frosty the snowman was alive as he could be
And the children say he could laugh and play
Just the same as you and me
Frosty the snowman knew the snow was hot that day
So he said lets run and have some fun before I melt away
Down to the village with a broom stick in his hand
Runnin here and there all around the square
Sayin catch me if you can
He led them down the streets of town
Right to the traffic cop
And he only paused a moment when he heard him holler stop
Frosty the snowman
Had to hurry on his way
But he waved goodbye sayin please dont cry
Ill be back again some day

song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frosty The Snowman

Frosty the snowman
Was a jolly happy soul
With a corn-cob pipe and a button nose
And two eyes made out of coal
Frosty the snowman
Is a fairy tale they say
He was made of snow
But the children know
How he came to life one day
There must have been some magic
In that old silk hat they found
For when they placed it on his head
He began to dance around
Frosty the snowman
Was alive as he could be
And the children say
He could laugh and play
Just the same as you and me
Frosty the snowman
Knew the sun was hot that day
So he said, lets run
And well have some fun
Now before I melt away
Down to the village
With a broomstick in his hand
Running here and there
All around the square
Saying, catch me if you can
He led them down
The streets of town
Right to the traffic cop
And he only paused a moment
When he heard them holler, stop!
Frosty the snowman
Had to hurry on his way
But he waved goodbye
Saying, dont you cry
Ill be back again some day

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Winter Song (From, Lost Song Poems)

There's outside a winter's song
With frore and grayish earth,
We had the summer for so long
For what each day was worth;
I'll long for summer and spring
Each time the night gets cold,
When weather hollowly will sing
In winter so frosty and bold.

A flower so gracefully done
The winter's rose in my window,
I'll greet you gladly on and on
Cherish your pearl white afterglow;
I've often been in a moody down
When darker the short day comes,
Then I see frosty rose jewel crown
And know in the cold it blooms.

Winter romance and candle lights
Longing for green sweet earth,
Longing for clearings sky bright
And all what the day young's worth;
How can it touch the morning flame
The winter that's gray and dark,
Will not each color be there same
Without its golden morning spark.

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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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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Summer

The year rejoice with grass
that sprouts out bright green everywhere
and leaves covering
plants and trees.

Life blooms in fruit
that dazzles red, yellow and green on branches
and insects fly swept away,
while the birds sing joyful songs
and the bright white hot sun
hangs high up in the sky.

Lord, give that the fruit coming out of my words
and deeds are not out of conceit
and centred around the I and self, but also stand as a sign
of Your infusion and flower full-blown and great.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Winter's Fingers

I’m looking out of the window,
watching the rain turn to snow,
the land is running from winter’s grasp,
but naked trees mean autumn’s past.

Trees’ bony fingers reach for the sky,
but the pale grey sky is a little shy,
and will not answer their call,
no matter how big or how tall.

But the clouds do speak and answer,
with snow, the subtle breeze dancer,
and the snows’ frisky little caper,
covers the land and blankets nature.

The land is under a white membrane,
but on my side of the window frame,
all is cosy with the fire ablaze,
my window is now a frosty glaze.

poem by Dale Mullock
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The old farm yard

I see a spade making holes
and shoots of peach trees
Appearing in rows in an orchard.

There’s a hot sun
that hangs above in a bright blue sky
and sweat flow in streams,
from under the old dark brown hat.

The old red Massi Ferguson tractors
machine has turned for a last time
and red dirt lies blown thick,
where it stands on the side against an old oak tree.

At the shed there’s a big silver tank
full of expensive diesoline
and I hear the boreholes
pump humming monotonous
and I see spill points in the distance
spraying water on the field
and the smell of wet ground
hangs like a blessing
in the air.

An old big Cock
raise its white wings
and crows angrily,
when the green John Deere tractor
with its trailer full of workers
stop in front of the homestead
Where it stands and scratches.

It’s great to eat country fare,
but the peace and tranquillity
on the old farm yard
me desire
to also live at such a place.

poem by Gert Strydom
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A Frostry Night

Mother: Alice, dear, what ails you,
Dazed and white and shaken?
Has the chill night numbed you?
Is it fright you have taken?

Alice: Mother I am very well,
I felt never better;
Mother, do not hold me so,
Let me write my letter.

Mother: Sweet, my dear, what ails you?

Alice: No, but I am well.
The night was cold and frosty,
There's no more to tell.

Mother: Ay, the night was frosty,
Coldly gaped the moon,
Yet the birds seemed twittering
Through green boughs of June.

Soft and thick the snow lay,
Stars danced in the sky.
Not all the lambs of May-day
Skip so bold and high.

Your feet were dancing, Alice,
Seemed to dance on air,
You looked a ghost or angel
In the starlight there.

Your eyes were frosted starlight,
Your heart, fire, and snow.
Who was it said 'I love you?'

Alice: Mother, let me go!

poem by Robert Graves
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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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Freedom's Battle-Song

RED, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
Stripes as red as blood well shed by many a hero gone.
Now 'tis ours to storm the towers of tyranny and wrong,
Freedom's sons who front the guns with Freedom's battle-song.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth,
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
Red, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
White as peace for whose release our fighting gear we don;
Peace enchained, crushed, profaned, shall yet in beauty stand,
Yet shall bless with fruitfulness her desolated land.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
Red, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
Blue as skies whose starry eyes shall see our victory won.
Freedom's sons and champions, to her our hearts are true,
We who fight for Human Right, and the Red,
White, Blue.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly, the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth,
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.

poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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White Sunshine

The sun's my fire.
Golden, from a magnificence of blue,
Should be its hue.
But woolly clouds,
Like boarding-house old ladies, come and sit
In front of it.
White sunshine, then,
That has the frosty glimmer of white hair,
Freezes the air.
They must forget,
So self-absorbed are they, so very old,
That I'll be cold.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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The First Bluebirds

THE poor earth was so winter-marred,
Harried by storm so long,
It seemed no spring could mend her,
No tardy sunshine render
Atonement for such wrong.
Snow after snow, and gale and hail,
Gaunt trees encased in icy mail,
The glittering drifts so hard
They took no trace
Of scared, wild feet,
No print of fox and hare
Driven by dearth
To forage for their meat
Even in dooryard bare
And frosty lawn
Under the peril of the human race;
And then one primrose dawn,
Sweet, sweet, O sweet,
And tender, tender,
The bluebirds woke the happy earth
With song.

poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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Final Glory

On the first blade of grass
Rests a frosty little lass,
A delicate cold beauty
Bound by one last winter duty;
Fallen to earth for glories sake
Her time comes so soon to go...
For this, the final fragile flake
Of the concluding winter snow.

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Frosty Beginnings

The treasured cougar cubs looked round
At all the new-laid snow...
For magic stole away the ground
That still remained below...
Their paws were cold, their noses, too,
And all that was between
And from the cougars' point of view,
It's true they weren't that keen...

While we, as humans, still complain,
When sunshine starts to fail,
Or we receive one ounce of rain
Or short term fall of hail...
Their lives go on, surviving youth,
With all their smirks and smiles.
Old cougars are the living proof,
Triumphant through their trials...

Frosty beginnings warn us well
That Autumn's on its way,
Before the full-blown Winter's spell
When snow on lawns must lay...
Each snowflake silver star then falls,
From dark clouds up above...
As we await till Christmas calls
To fill our hearts with love....

Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2011.

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Frosty Beginnings'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

poem by Denis Martindale
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Winter's Pale Roses

Winter's pale roses
Always long for cold
On windows frosty poses
Until the ice can't hold
They give sliver threads
Of shining glow beauty
Hue of gray and reds
As morning comes to be

Like summer beauty doses
That fragrance much gives
Are those frosty roses
That inside my window lives
I'm feeling so much of joy
By having them around
When warmth they'll destroy
They'll in my heart be found

For all of beauty wakes
Within our soul and being
And all it sometimes takes
Is inner perception freeing
With love you have to shine
Like silver golden strings
And you will be doing fine
If beauty to you it brings

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The Lowering

The flag is folded
lengthwise, and lengthwise again,
folding toward the open edge,
so that the union of stars on the blue
field remains outward in full view;
a triangular folding is then begun
at the striped end,
by bringing the corner of the folded edge
to the open edge;
the outer point, turned inward along the open edge,
forms the next triangular fold:
the folding continued so, until the end is reached,
the final corner tucked between
the folds of the blue union,
the form of the folded flag is found to resemble that
of a 3-cornered pouch, or thick cocked hat.

Take this flag, John Glenn, instead of a friend;
instead of a brother, Edward Kennedy, take this flag;
instead of a father, Joe Kennedy, take this flag;
this flag instead of a husband, Ethel Kennedy, take this flag;
this 9-times-folded red-white-striped, star-spotted-blue flag,
tucked and pocketed neatly,
Nation, instead of a leader, take this folded flag.
Robert Kennedy, coffin without coverlet,
beside this hole in the grass,
beside your brother, John Kennedy,
in the grass,
take, instead of a country,
this folded flag;
Robert Kennedy, take this
hole in the grass.

poem by May Swenson
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