#winter poems on Hello Poetry

Sasha May 18

Twisting, turning.
Frazzled twirling.
Snowflakes glistening.
Snowmen sitting.
Snowballs rolled, ready for fire.
Hot cocoa cups filled ready for hire.

Kids who've been touched by the snowflakes,
Twisting, turning.
And frazzled twirling.

#winter #wonderland #coldandwarm #childhood

1DNA May 15

Winter's diamond

She’s Winter’s diamond,
with a heart of snow
Like January’s snowdrop,
comes dropping low
Her tears of frost
belight the road
An ethereal beauty,
with a touch so cold
A frostbitten angel,
numb of pain
An untouched canvas,
lost in vain
As simple as water,
guised in eminence
Beneath the gale,
a child's innocence
Torch the ground,
she will fade
Into puddles of ice,
once a frozen jade
Gaze upon,
you will see
A reflection of her,
a reflection of me.

One of my favourites ♡

#winter #lost

Sora May 10

And what else shall I do?

I've been finding myself more
in the arms of uncertainty and nostalgia lately.
Its warmth cascades down my back
like hair made of gold and silk,
draping its familiarity over me
in the form of weary exhaustion.

And yet, when I get too close,
it holds me painfully tighter;
or pushes me away.
Forcing me to feel the dreary shiver
of winter all over again.

Perhaps this affinity surmised
was nothing more
than a suffocating disguise;
its hands holding mine
as if they were akin
to the bequeathed stars above.

I intend to abandon its presence,
as it did to mine;
but then I find it knocking
on my door once more.
And what else shall I do,
than let it in?

when the melancholy of winter comes around yet again, I'll be held; then forsaken once more.

#uncertainty #nostalgia #winter #arms #warmth #silk #gold #affinity #door #surmise

Shani Barnard May 1

Do the trees know ?

I wonder—
do the trees feel empty in winter,
like abandoned cathedrals with hollowed arches,
their prayers carried off by wind?
Do they mourn the once-gold choir of leaves,
or do they wait—
hands lifted in quiet faith,
hope braided into their roots
like a forgotten hymn?

Does the moon know she is not always whole?
That we love her in pieces—
when she is a shard of silver,
a lost earring in the sky.
Does she ache, too,
a lantern adrift in a sea of indifference,
admired but never held?

There is beauty, I think,
in what is missing—
in the pause before bloom,
in the ache of becoming.
The tree, the moon—
they teach us how to stay
even when we are not full.

Maybe they know.
Maybe they don’t.
But still—they remain.
And maybe that is enough.

#nature #winter #seasons #moon #hope #solitude #beauty

Emilia B Apr 27

Long like December into January

Gliding my finger over the cracked kitchen tile
Kettle, king of limescale
Waiting and forgetting
One foot in-front of the other
Travel like a skipping rock
The back of my neck burning
Singeing hairs of fever
Fluttering spine cremating
ashes spilling out of my ears.
It’s a citrus sun on a winter day
Frosted fence melting away in an animated motion,
Like butter over a pan
Bubbles on a thorn bush.

#winter #summer #poem

Sudzedrebel Apr 27

Perspective: The One Royal

Spring comes
And I find myself fond of fall.
Summer dawns
And I admire more winter.
Fall arrives
And I cherish spring newly.
Winter blossoms
And I appreciate summer more clearly.

#philosophy #seasons #nature #weather #temperature #climate #spring #summer #fall #winter

aleks Apr 25

language of flowers

it's easy to say time heals all wounds,
when every barren branch blooms again in spring,
when every new chick is taken under a safe wing.

but time is yet to wake me from my eternal winter sleep.

i still lay, unmoving, in my barren keep.

even bears leave me behind,
a permanent fixture in their den,
"maybe time will wake him next spring,"
they say, now and then.

the forest whispers above my head,
calling to the last absentee,
but i am no tree,
and spring does not speak to me.

of eternal winters spent observing life around me

#depression #mental #health #nature #winter #spring

DanDoes Dec 2021

Rain

Pitter patter
Rain comes down
Spitter spatter
Face with frown

Wet crunching
Under feet
Dreary people
Walk in street

Not
Me

Rain comes down
Air is clear
Family in town
Winter here

Outside cold
Warmth is sweet
Chocolate hot
Marshmellows eat

#rain #sad #happy #bittersweet #winter #family #warmth

blank Apr 18

the opposite of wanderlust, iii

it’s easy to miss the juncos’ slow, sudden departure in spring;
messengers from colder warming worlds

they arrive a dulling autumn:
peppering notations of life in a landscape encased,
each deep dark demitasse
brewed on increasingly tardy dawns
painting a night sky inverted

standing ankle deep in first snows
searching for leftover springs beneath the detritus

but then they finally emerge with the warblers,
orioles, robins, and buntings

and pointillism fades beneath impressionist palettes
that flash over treetops and underbrush

but the last juncos linger:
quiet familiar trills outside my window each morning
disrupting stillness till it disappears

an ode to the dark-eyed junco

i just ******* love birds idk what else you need to know. about time i wrote a proper poem about them

#birds #spring #nature #migration #winter #seasons #freeverse

neth jones Apr 19

concocted

walking down the street
the winters day folded
              settled snow awaiting damage
waking  as the morning fumbles with city residents
                                    and caravans of cars bumble
               unused to the tumble and witty wade of it all

my view is unveiled and hearted
simple vision  in fellow with the other senses
but IT'S THEN ! and then (aftershock )    something was altered
something in perception  was marched astray and put to sacrifice
just a tick off from the uncanny flank of lucid
                         and i know something's not right
my readings rank as nudged
       someone wishes me 'off the case'
what did my senses experience
       that could've been entered into evidence ?
i stop in the street and stoop my bags into the drift
why was my report changed
       so skillfully between the source
                                            and my intake ?
just a single moment    a blur and a splice snip
what was i not meant to observe ?
was the rug pulled out from under it all
even if for only a spilt second ?
did i witness the goings on behind the scenes ?
the agents of governing wealthy illusion at work ?
adjusting the set ?  correcting an effect ?
wizarding our fantastic lives
the grand fabrication
...or perhaps  simply a feeling

#illusion #fabrication #reality #paranoid #perception #control #winter #snow