I love the snowflakes as they descend from the sky
Oh, what a blessing from above
Pure, white, shiny and beautiful
Watching you fall is just astonishing

You have covered the land with your purity
I'm looking out the window, admiring your beauty
See how amazing you look on the trees
See all the houses with white roofs

A few lessons I have learnt from you
A number of people don't like your coldness
That's a reminder for me not to keep a cold attitude
The floors and roads become slippery
Tells me that it's important to thread life slowly and carefully
You come clean but we turn your beauty to something messy
Which means intentions could be misunderstood and mistreated

There are things you do that I'm not too pleased with
When you are around, it gets dark quite early
At 6pm, I'm already feeling sleepy
How about the stress of cleaning my car's windshield

All in all, I can't imagine a year without you
Good things often have their own challenges too
So, I will embrace all the blessings that come with you
And deal with the seemingly unpleasant ones too!

Snowflakes                                
                                             daintily

                             floa t

     s    p    a    c        e       d         o     u   t

        in  the cold
                           bone - biting  air.
Little dots
            .       .       .       .       .       .
                        drifting     eerily
               to the steamy pavement.





Don't you wish you could melt?

Once I thought I  was born  to fly,
till now all I was made to do was rely on,
I was just a standby.
Once I wanted   to be  the snowflakes,
but got cursed to be a snow grave.
Once the mirror used to reflect  me blest (bless),
now it only mocks me to death.
Once I used to love to feel alive,
now all I hope is to survive.
Once I used to love the sun,
now all  I feel is it's burn.
Once I was ready to live life,
now all I  see and face is strife.
Once I used to love the glow in the  dark,
now all I see and face is stark.
Once I was other's cover, their fence,
now all of it is past tense.
Once I was other's perfect illusion,
now all I am left is my own delusion.

Snowflakes are the butterflies of winter...
Floating around, pretty and light.
The more of them that drift around...
The more beautiful the sight.

Snowflakes are the butterflies of winter...
They make even the messiest garden, shine.
No matter if the flakes are thick and heavy...
Or just a light dusting that's small and fine.

Snowflakes are the butterflies of winter...
Gliding through the skies, uncaged and free.
Only resting when the winds conclude...
Gently resting on every roof, hill or tree.

Snowflakes are the butterflies of winter...
Only present for such a short while.
A flying visit, and then they're gone...
But they sure do leave a smile.

Snowflakes are the butterflies of winter...
Making your garden glisten and glow.
They go wherever they please...
And please wherever they go.

You are the pink rose,
Gently swaying in the cool air,
Drops of dew kissing your silky petals.
You are the first soft snowflakes,
Falling on a wintry day,
Creating an ambience of serenity.
You are the Spring astir,
With a sense of  tender caress,
In the whisper of the gentle breeze.
Or the wealth of the Summer that comes with joyous abandon.
Or the glowing colours in the painting of Autumn.
You are the smile that soothes my heart,
My strength to uphold my weakness,
An inspiration to my soul,
My guide,
My Angel from above.

I love you,
When I am happy,
The sky is blue,
The Sun is shining sheepishly at me.
I love you,
When anger stains my soul,
The clouds clash thunderously,
The wind howls incessantly.
I love you,
When life knocks me down,
The moon lovingly beckons me to hold on.
I love you,
When fear grips me,
The night is dark,
And the twinkling stars cuddle me close,
I love you when I am filled with
various  emotions,
Raindrops of tears,snowflakes of laughter and hail of sorrow.
I love you, rain or shine,
To the depths of my heart.

And when the snow falls tonight,
bury me in that grave I dug all these years.
The fire is extinguished
and I can't find anything to warm myself anymore.

All this time I have been sinking,
the ropes have gotten weak,
and I can't hang on no more.

and all these lullabies are calling me to sleep,
all these enchanting voices.

I will let myself fall through this,
just promise, you will bury me with the snow.
                                      
                              - Srabanti Chakrabarty

Migrating white butterflies
Like snowflakes in mid-summer
Dancing on heat waves of January skies
Thousands upon thousands,
Can't tell one from another
This must be the celebration to summer.

Like some mystic fable they appear by magic
Their wild scattered bouncy flight
Springs chaos amongst all city logic
For they paint a rural innocent insight
To the mysteries of summer's secrets.

Their cascade is tumbling northwards
Like bubbles blown from a gypsy child
Hidden in these concrete woods
Hearts wild yet breath so mild
They simply pass as lacey summer reflection.