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See you in the snow,
No daze or fog could distract,
My eyes from my love.
She is everything, is simple as that.
Gary Feb 16
let's cover heads with winter hats
and criss cross fields with winter tracks

be quick to  claim  this winter scape
the early bird new tracks will make

long before the last chimney smoke
The wind will craft a winter coat.

across this land a blanket bright.
concealing blemishes winter white.

as the sun appears to try its hand
at waking up this freezing land

the bitter chill will win this fight  
between bright  blue sky and coming night.
Zack Feb 12
Ugh
My dreams of a warm snow day were thwarted by nature's other plans. On my way to work, my car slid down the same Wayne mountain which had imbued me with dreams of peace for today. The unkempt roads, covered in the slush of snow crushed by other poor souls trudging their way to work.  Jobs who could care less about employees safety paved the way for my mood to reach the tipping point it's at. 2 minutes late to punch and my boss says it's my fault for not planning properly. Little did she know I had planned on them caring about me more than they apparently do.

                                                          ---
                                           On my way to work
                                      Ice plots my likely demise
                                           God plots otherwise
                                                          ---
Zack Feb 11
“Red skies in the morning, sailors heed warning”
Beautiful orange sunrise, from the top of this wayne mountain
Dress the new york city skyline in marmalade
Bring us the promise of a turbulent winters storm tonight
Save me from tomorrows trials and tribulations
Snow me in, cover me up
and I’ll find warmth in your frozen promise
            

                                                  ­     ---
                                      Marmalade dressed sky
                                Peaceful mountain top sunrise
                                            Chaos tomorrow
                                                       ---
Zack Feb 10
Once clean, white, and pure
Snow, shoveled into a heap.
Black, with the world's mud.
Nothing is pure forever.. even the most beautiful
Gerry Sykes Feb 9
The snow is thawing on the field
its white perfection turning brown
as mud and sleet become congealed.
The snow is thawing on the field
and ochre footsteps are revealed
from Milley’s paw pads pressing down.
The snow is thawing on the field
its white perfection turning brown
A little triolette on walking our dog, Miley, in an unexpected early (autumn) snow as it begins to thaw.
I've allowed myself a deviation from the meter in line 6 for the sake of alliteration
Zack Feb 9
Winter in full fledge
The cats fur matted with snow
Even he seems cold
Maria Feb 8
I’m cold… You think I’m really fluey?
I’m not for sure… Maybe you’re right.
The weather’s nasty by mischance for now.
And I’m not wearing my cozy woolly scarf.

This February snows a lot and rages.
I’d like to wrap in plaid and not to leave.
I know it’s blues. I know for certain, sweetheart.
You shouldn’t get a feel for me. I’m peeve.

The spring will come. There will be a revival
Of new ideas, follies and delight.
And I will rise, I will return, my dear,
Better than previous. I will be vitalized!
The snow melts,
Trickles onto the roads,
Freezes into ice,
Right at my shoes.

And the water rolling off the roofs,
Forms spiked icicles,
Falling from the ledges,
Stabs my arm.
"Inches of snow is better than a light layer of ice."
-The man who slipped on the sidewalk.
J'adore le mois de février,
Le mois le plus court et le plus froid de la saison,
Pour toute une série d’étranges raisons.
Et pourtant, on a l'impression que février est le mois le plus long,
Pour les événements qui se produisent au hasard,
Au milieu des tempêtes  perfides et hivernales
Presque tout est gelé et solide près de la nichée
Des aigles américains à tête blanche,
Sauf les masques de Mardi Gras sous les planches.

Février est la saison de l'amour,
Le mois de la Saint Valentin,
Une crique paradisiaque par excellence,
Où les amoureux se réfugient. Pur, immaculé,
Neigeux, court, sombre et charmant ; Février est
Maintenant le mois de célébration de l'histoire des Noirs,
On se demande comment et pourquoi
Nous obtenons le plus court. C'est une autre histoire
Que nous devrions laisser aux mouettes nomades
Pour déchiffrer. Pas de baigneurs sur les plages de sable,
Sauf quelques oiseaux perchés sur les pauvres branches,
**** des berceaux des pygargues à tête blanche.

Février est un mois de contraste kaléidoscopique,
Là où les chutes de neige se produisent d’une façon typique,
Et où les amoureux fous rêvent de chaleur sous un paradis
Plein d’espoir, d’amour, de beauté,  de glace et de pluie.

Copyright © Janvier 2022, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés.
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poèmes.
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