And for the season it was winter, and they that know the winters of that country know them to be sharp and violent, and subject to cruel and fierce storms.
William Bradford in Of Plymouth Plantation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
And for the season it was winter, and they that know the winters of that country know them to be sharp and violent, and subject to cruel and fierce storms.
quote by William Bradford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Victim Of love
With the chilly winter winds blowing,
I have become the victim of love again.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t tame.
With the ruthless cold winter coming,
I can feel the warmth of your love waning.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and to the tides of time I can’t blame.
With the dark winter nights falling,
I still walk beneath those street lights.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t name.
With the silent winter days brightening,
I still listen to our rhyme.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t claim.
With the infant winter dawn breaking,
I always hope against the hope.
Now I know that no two winters are the same,
and the tides of time I can’t make it the same.
poem by Sonam Tobgay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter Has Come
Definitely winter has come.
The evergreen shrub's white flowers have disappeared.
The ginko trees have turned into brooms.
Like a sharp sharp piercing, winter has come.
Everyone dislikes winter.
Deserted by grasses and trees, run away from by insects, winter has come.
Winter,
come to me, come to me.
I have winter's strength, winter is my victim.
Permeate through, penetrate into!
Make fires break out! Bury with snow I
Like a sharp knife, winter has come.
poem by KotaroTakamura
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wintertime Love
Wintertime winds blow cold the season
Fallen in love, Im hopin to be
Wind is so cold, is that the reason?
Keeping you warm, your hands touching me
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
You are so warm
My wintertime love to be
Winter time winds blue and freezin
Comin from northern storms in the sea
Love has been lost, is that the reason?
Trying desperately to be free
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
And you are so warm
My wintertime love to be
La, la, la, la
Come with me dance, my dear
Winters so cold this year
You are so warm
My wintertime love to be
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Growing Season
The seasons work together
To make the world possible
Summer, the sun season
Fall, the leaf season
Winter, the snow season
And spring, the time of beauty
Summer, the yellow season
Fall, the orange season
Winter, the white season
And spring, the time of the rainbow
Summer, the blank season
Fall, the shadow season
Winter, the dying season
And spring, the growing season
The growing season
Ode to winter
Ode to winter
~
Ode, ode to the winter
What music plays to sonnet
While a world drifts to sleep
Leaves curl and flowers bow
Birds take flight to a further place
A touch of frost creeps in
Stealing the landscape of its colour
Soon all shall be held motionless
In the still of a winters season
Now in all its changing
The beauty and perfection of life
Is left open to be witnessed
Savoured by the eye of an artist
To feed the soul, nourish the heart
This melancholy season
This changing landscape
What beauty it reveals
In an ode to the winter
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fierce Storms
Fierce are storms when they first appear,
Killing the school, killing the family,
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere.
The allegiance forming can be a career,
Kinsfolk are blamed for it actually,
Fierce are storms when they first appear.
The damage is a conflict, of a charioteer,
Waging war of a storm additionally,
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere.
Gods are of a stormy nature, like a chandelier,
The work is able, of a tempest working abnormally,
Fierce are storms when they first appear.
A school admits us when the weather is to cheer,
How do we fight in class and work fitfully?
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere.
The leisure of the skies is about what is near,
My moments stray into oblivion foolhardily,
When strikes are managed in the atmosphere,
Fierce are storms when they first appear.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
End Of The Season
Winter time is coming
All the sky is grey
Summer birds arent singing
Since you went away
Since youve been gone, end of the season
Winter is here, close of play
I get no kicks walking down saville row
Theres no more chicks left where the green grass grows and I know that
Winter is here, end of the season
My reasons gone, close of play
I just cant mix in all the clubs I know
Now labours in, I have no place to go
Youre on a yacht near an island in greece
Though you are hot, forget me not
I will keep waiting until your return
Now you are gone, end of the season
Winter will come any day
Back in the scrub on a wet afternoon
Down in the mud, dreaming of flowers in june
End of the season
End of the season
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Winters
Winters days are gray
And cold in their way.
A mystery Mist
Swirls gently with a twist
Threading its way
Threw the shadows of day
Winter is no longer kept at bay.
Winters winds whistle
And bend a dying thistle.
Clouds of grey race
As they chase
Across the winter scene
Winter is cold and mean
As can be seen.
By K. J. Stoker
poem by Katie Stoker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We are the last remaining country to allow ourselves two breaks in the season. You just have to look at England, Italy and Spain, they play right through the season. We on the other hand take six weeks off in the winter until the end of January, and that is a luxury.
quote by Franz Beckenbauer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sighting
I ask for a chance to sight a bird,
May winter run away afterward.
This season is just some of the year,
What may pass can disappear.
My season transmits its pride to the park,
And the nation changes a season, very dark.
Let evil be somebody very dark and grey,
Not the present season, not winter anyway.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winters passing
Winters passing
~
A winter passed into day
In the morning sun I saw
Frost melt in the early light
The garden filled with dew
And birds return to sing
The night is going soon
Winter is passing away
The bare trees stand tall
Swaying gently to the wind
Which blows from the east
A season of change
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Midwinter Spring
Cloudless sky big and blue,
pale yellow sun warms clear air.
Now comes a new day;
a new season begins,
where winter has been.
Where sorrow has been
a tiny huge shift toward healing,
toward hope.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
Fragile warmth touches chill soil,
tender shoots push toward the surface
seeking nourishing rays.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
A heart slowly opens in tentative inches,
pain still fresh and loud within;
blue sky reaches down.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
The chatter of baby birds
rises on fresh air,
touches the ear, turns the mind.
The heart hears a tiny huge voice consoling.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
(1/2009)
Seasons
What is a season, sometimes children ask,
Then to explain to them is not a hard task;
its four groups of months, divided equally,
Winter I like, It's the month so special to me.
First we take Summer, it's sometimes so very hot,
But; when you get to go swimming, it cools you a lot;
Eating Salads, and lovely cold drinks, and sweet too,
But; when it's in the 40's, I just don't know what to do.
Next we have Autumn, a beautiful season to check out,
The colors on each tree change, the wind blows the leaves about;
We know it's almost time, to get our warm clothes ready,
and when it's very windy, it's hard to stay on your feet steady.
Then comes Winter, out comes our warm clothes, and gear,
Our coats, gloves, and rain boots, are always left near;
Then it comes, the rain, Hail, sleet and icy snow,
Where you feel the winters blast, on each finger and toe.
So there is the seasons, each different from the other,
What is your favorite season, or do you prefer, not to bother?
In Melbourne Victoria, It's like all comes together,
Four seasons in a day, oh what strange yet beautiful weather.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter
As I walked outside
My face can feel the cold
I am taking a stride
I see people young and old
Taking a stride down the snow on their sleds
I see lots of beautiful snow
And not so ripe trees
Winter is a season that makes me warm inside
Winter is a sad season to everyone
To me, winter is a happy season.
Winter Born and Live
Some people enter the world
to indigo skies,
the sun beams
on their blessed souls
season after season.
Never a day of
storms or showers form,
in their world
there are no winters.
Their grin comes
without expense,
their soul
without pause flourishes.
Groundhog never appears
to see his shadow,
for spring is
constantly assured.
Nothing did they do
to improve or disparage
their springtime birth.
Their blessed eternal Eastertide
is a purely bestowed.
Any other season
but the consecrated
spring they do not know.
Others enter the world
from inception
blizzards never cease
Hardly a day of a sunny beam
before began sqa ually rage spurned
upon their countenance.
One storm flows
in timely order
after the other,
giving them forever winter,
hail and snow and gales.
Zeus did not curse them
for a deed or word,
but in good fortune
they are not superb.
Though if to see their spirits
you would not presume,
that spring does not show its face
oft to the winter born.
They have a frosty smile still,
upon the winter they do not grieve.
They beam with joy peculiarly
like a summer baby born,
as if they are unawares to them
warmer days are forlorn.
Spring never begins for winters child,
though you can feel they
have a secret of enduring.
Never stopping to feel the bitter bite of frost,
feel adrift and ever lost,
in their winter tide.
Winter birth seeking a celebration
day to day from in the storm,
they rejoice to see the beauty
in winter solstice birth.
Their peacefulness heartily
defies the drifts of whiteness
with great acts of love.
They rise above their glaciated valleys
with compassionate repasts to share.
Are they cursed by Narnias queen
to live evermore in cheerless winter?
She is not their ruler for they know
a joy where winter is never keen,
they live aglow in a warmth
to a spring born is never seen.
I am of the winterbourne,
living constantly from storm to storm.
In the quiet before each whitewashed tempest,
I gather to see my days gone by.
I see unclouded firmament, sunny skies,
rainbow with a promise of better days,
a lingering unmelted powder,
grayness gone adrift.
Constant celebration of winter solstice
has me thrive,
with the storms passing I feel alive.
I have felt the sunbeams brightness
through the wintry sky.
My spirit feels springs lightness
in my winter life.
Some people enter the world
to indigo skies,
the sun beams
on their blessed souls
season after season.
Never a day of
storms or showers form,
in their world
there are no winters.
Their grin comes
without expense,
their soul
without pause flourishes.
Groundhog never appears
to see his shadow,
for spring is
constantly assured.
Nothing did they do
to improve or disparage
their springtime birth.
Their blessed eternal Eastertide
is a purely bestowed.
Any other season
but the consecrated
spring they do not know.
Others enter the world
from inception
blizzards never cease
Hardly a day of a sunny beam
before began sqa ually rage spurned
upon their countenance.
One storm flows
in timely order
after the other,
giving them forever winter,
hail and snow and gales.
Zeus did not curse them
for a deed or word,
but in good fortune
they are not superb.
Though if to see their spirits
you would not presume,
that spring does not show its face
oft to the winter born.
They have a frosty smile still,
upon the winter they do not grieve.
They beam with joy peculiarly
like a summer baby born,
as if they are unawares to them
warmer days are forlorn.
Spring never begins for winters child,
though you can feel they
have a secret of enduring.
Never stopping to feel the bitter bite of frost,
feel adrift and ever lost,
in their winter tide.
Winter birth seeking a celebration
day to day from in the storm,
they rejoice to see the beauty
in winter solstice birth.
Their peacefulness heartily
defies the drifts of whiteness
with great acts of love.
They rise above their glaciated valleys
with compassionate repasts to share.
Are they cursed by Narnias queen
to live evermore in cheerless winter?
She is not their ruler for they know
a joy where winter is never keen,
they live aglow in a warmth
to a spring born is never seen.
I am of the winterbourne,
living constantly from storm to storm.
In the quiet before each whitewashed tempest,
I gather to see my days gone by.
I see unclouded firmament, sunny skies,
rainbow with a promise of better days,
a lingering unmelted powder,
grayness gone adrift.
Constant celebration of winter solstice
has me thrive,
with the storms passing I feel alive.
I have felt the sunbeams brightness
through the wintry sky.
My spirit feels springs lightness
in my winter life.
poem by Sandra Dodd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winters smile
Winters smile
~
I saw a winters sun
the day fell too short
time escaped me
still I held a thought
I kept love close by
nurtured in my heart
while the world wilted
I felt a flower grow
like a fist of defiance
a beauty unfolds
not bound to a season
the air was cold
still filled my lungs
my breath rolled out
a vapour cloud
rose to a higher climb
I watched is disappear
thought for a while
a day passed me by
I carried with me
a winters smile
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Olney Hymn 39: The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death
My soul is sad, and much dismay'd;
See, Lord, what legions of my foes,
With fierce Apollyon at their head,
My heavenly pilgrimage oppose.
See, from the ever-burning lake,
How like a smoky cloud they rise!
With horrid blasts my soul they shake,
With storms of blasphemies and lies.
Their fiery arrows reach the mark,
My throbbing heart with anguish tear;
Each lights upon a kindred spark,
And finds abundant fuel there.
I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord;
Oh! I would drive it from my breast,
With Thy own sharp two-edged sword,
Far as the east is from the west.
Come, then, and chase the cruel host,
Heal the deep wounds I have received!
Nor let the power of darkness boast
That I am foil'd, and Thou art grieved!
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Valley of the Shadow of Death
My soul is sad, and much dismay'd;
See, Lord, what legions of my foes,
With fierce Apollyon at their head,
My heavenly pilgrimage oppose.
See, from the ever-burning lake,
How like a smoky cloud they rise!
With horrid blasts my soul they shake,
With storms of blasphemies and lies.
Their fiery arrows reach the mark,
My throbbing heart with anguish tear;
Each lights upon a kindred spark,
And finds abundant fuel there.
I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord;
Oh! I would drive it from my breast,
With Thy own sharp two-edged sword,
Far as the east is from the west.
Come, then, and chase the cruel host,
Heal the deep wounds I have received!
Nor let the power of darkness boast
That I am foil'd, and Thou art grieved!
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
little Snowflake
A star of snow fell one cold night
Firstborn of that Christmas Season
Perfect, unique, all swathed in white
To be a part of winter was her reason
The tiny star did not question fate
Altho cast amidst a billion others
She did her very best to acclimate
Alongside her sisters n’ brothers
Harsh storms came n’ went
The little snowflake was in awe
At long last the storms were spent
All welcomed back spring thaw
The melting star cried out with glee
“Hooray! I’ll be returning to the sea”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!