winter
Winter Of Content
As I walk along the footpath
The ice cracks under my sole
The windchill cools the ears
And reddens up my nose.
The Winter Sun looks warm
But passers by just moan
As I enjoy the freshness
And view of shining snow.
The winter solstice approaches
Means Christmas lights to come
Against the constant darkness
And smiling Christmas fun.
Coats and gloves and beanies
Keep the body warm
Prolific defence available
Protects from winter storms.
Many regret December
And it’s weather that is sent
But life’s just a different colour
In the winter of content.
– Peter Hall
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Winter
Ah Winter that old man
He was nasty of late
Not quite like he was at first
On that December date
He was gentle at first
Being nice to fall
Gently pushing him out the door
Saying don’t come back at all.
They enjoyed Winter for some time
For the snow he sent was fitting
They frolicked through his splender
Getting warm ’round the fire sitting
Lately they grew tired of winter
There was a new man around
His name was Spring
He ran Winter out of town
– Jeffrey Markle
http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
A January Morning
The glittering roofs are still with frost; each worn
Black chimney builds into the quiet sky
Its curling pile to crumble silently.
Far out to westward on the edge of morn,
The slender misty city towers up-borne
Glimmer faint rose against the pallid blue;
And yonder on those northern hills, the hue
Of amethyst, hang fleeces dull as horn.
And here behind me come the woodmen’s sleighs
With shouts and clamorous squeakings; might and main
Up the steep slope the horses stamp and strain,
Urged on by hoarse-tongued drivers—cheeks ablaze,
Iced beards and frozen eyelids—team by team,
With frost-fringed flanks, and nostrils jetting steam.
– Archibald Lampman
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January
The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
– John Updike
http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
January, January
Ice, thick,
as I have never seen
on Cherwell.
Jagged, floating towards Isis.
Low mists of ice-dust
drift on Christ Church meadow
and cool the blood
of long-horn cattle
standing
ankle-deep in mud.
A lame roe deer
beneath the trees
pauses, where
the sudden call of coots
splits the air.
In the gardens of Trinity,
all is order and harmony.
January blossom from Japan,
well-kept paths and lawns.
Controlled
and quiet.
Magdalen is a small, medieval town;
courtyards and golden houses,
a Tower and a Park.
Along Addison’s Walk,
tall trees like sentries,
follow the stream
which sidles out from Magdalen Bridge
to turn and twist
past the Deer Park
with its white deer,
(living, condensations
of the mist) .
– Brian Taylor
http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
Sunny Days In Winter
Summer is a glorious season
Warm, and bright, and pleasant;
But the Past is not a reason
To despise the Present.
So while health can climb the mountain,
And the log lights up the hall,
There are sunny days in Winter, after all!
Spring, no doubt, hath faded from us,
Maiden-like in charms;
Summer, too, with all her promise,
Perished in our arms.
But the memory of the vanished,
Whom our hearts recall,
Maketh sunny days in Winter, after all!
True, there’s scarce a flower that bloometh,
All the best are dead;
But the wall-flower still perfumeth
Yonder garden-bed.
And the arbutus pearl-blossom’d
Hangs its coral ball-
There are sunny days in Winter, after all!
Summer trees are pretty,-very,
And love them well:
But this holly’s glistening berry,
None of those excel.
While the fir can warm the landscape,
And the ivy clothes the wall,
There are sunny days in Winter, after all!
Sunny hours in every season
Wait the innocent-
Those who taste with love and reason
What their God hath sent.
Those who neither soar too highly,
Nor too lowly fall,
Feel the sunny days of Winter, after all!
Then, although our darling treasures
Vanish from the heart;
Then, although our once-loved pleasures
One by one depart;
Though the tomb looms in the distance,
And the mourning pall,
There is sunshine, and no Winter, after all!
– Denis Florence MacCarthy
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The Mother Tree
A bullet of wind and ice whips through the tree,
leaves scatter and fly towards me.
I remain still.
Winter trills in disappointment and sends another bout of wind.
Leaves fall but are whipped up by the gale,
almost like little fallen soldiers.
More and more fall,
all the while it getting colder and colder.
With a tired sigh,
and a weeping cry,
the tree allows itself to continue to die.
Its children leaves lie around like jewels,
laying in great pools.
Winter crows in delight,
and,
with barely any might,
she takes over the night.
The Mother Tree surveys her children leaves,
and says, ‘Rest with peace.’
Frost creeps over the browning leaves,
and snow and ice blow through the blistering trees,
following their Mother Tree.
I sigh.
Dear me.
What a thing this war turned out to be.
Wicked laughter whisks through the wind as Winter officially takes control.
I look into the Valley of Trees as Winter takes her toll.
Everything shivers, no longer an enemy.
Winter holds on,
Her grip strong.
And there it stays,
Going through with a riot.
Everything quiets.
Blessedly.
Winter holds on still,
Reluctant to let go.
The land around melts and begins to sow.
Life is coming back to the Mother Tree.
Buds peep open, new children.
And there begins,
Once again,
The Mother Tree.
– Danya Qattea
Winter’s Cold
As the Weather turns colder
the landscape changes colorfully
beautiful shades of greens to lovely fall colors
to the cold of gray and whites
leaves tumble from the branches above
the temperature dropping so fast
send chills down our spines
time to bundle up for a cold winter season
Snow and cold will be upon us, sooner than we want
each winter brings a new tale
either freezing temperatures on heavy snows, sometimes both
snow brings skiers, sledders, skaters, ice fishermen to life
snow forts to snowmen everywhere
the beautiful white landscape comes to life
the sun’s rays reflecting off the crystal snow
like glitter tossed around
so breathe taking to see and to enjoy
bundled up inside drinking hot chocolate
waiting for summer to come
beautiful winter turn your cold off and send us our summer sooner.
I miss the summer heat and beautiful outdoors
old man winter does bring some joy,
but for most it brings cold and snow
time for stories around the fireplace with Mom and Dad
hot cocoa and homemade cookies
stay warm for winter will come and go
– Michael Peterson
http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
Alms
My heart is what it was before,
A house where people come and go;
But it is winter with your love,
The sashes are beset with snow.
I light the lamp and lay the cloth,
I blow the coals to blaze again;
But it is winter with your love,
The frost is thick upon the pane..
I know a winter when it comes:
The leaves are listless on the boughs;
I watched your love a little while,
And brought my plants into the house.
I water them and turn them south,
I snap the dead brown from the stem;
But it is winter with your love,
I only tend and water them.
There was a time I stood and watched
The small, ill-natured sparrows’ fray;
I loved the beggar that I fed,
I cared for what he had to say,
I stood and watched him out of sight:
Today I reach around the door
And set a bowl upon the step;
My heart is what it was before,
But it is winter with your love;
I scatter crumbs upon the sill,
And close the window, —and the birds
May take or leave them, as they will.
– Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
– Robert Frost
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