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RW Dennen Sep 2014
You walk the whitened snow
in overcast-shadowed delight
You look back seeing
where your tracks traced you
from where you were before,
like words written on
snowy white paper
holding memories
gone by...

Your mind slowly
backtracks
to places only moments ago,
where small inclined drifs
on each side
reminded you
of miniature mountains,
you were a GIANT
in the middle of a tiny valley...

Sounds became muffled,
your planet became
transformed into another world
Silence prevailed,
brief shrilling sporadic gusts
nipped at your nose, nipped at your cheeks,
and had painted
your living portrait red...

You had felt your feet
crunch down
on the newly
softened snow,
its sounds created noise
that crunched LOUDLY...

In some places,
your wider lifting strides
became arduous,
they became wider in deeper spots,
but you did not mind...

This whitined fact
almost held by fantasy
ridiculed everyday life,
silhouetted trees
reached their bare arms upward
like black grayish winter phantoms
against the white horizon,
against the gray sky...

Tiny windy whirlpools
-ever so often-
danced around your feet
in a soft swirling
celebration
of your delight...

Charmed by your exploration
you had embraced every moment
Clever in your adoration
you now invoke this poem,
distinguished only
for the astute...

...Provoked by this flurry
wisdom and wonderland,
you now turn slowly
around then forward
Now realizing you have
just left your memories
and poet's signature
within those very backtracks
you have just left behind...     .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .' .'
Desert sand -winterland
Opposites attract

Like
Golden sand
longing for silver rain.
Trembling
under an orange  sun.
Yellow moon in black blue sky
Can’t wait to cool down
at night time.

Like
Winterland bold and cold
Crispy
beautiful white snow
Longs for yellow sunbeams
Shivering
Soft pale sun in white grey sky
Can’t wait to warm up
at day time

Shell✨🐚
You need two opposites to create a neutral. There must be some balance for harmony.
Kagey Sage Oct 2015
The debate is on
I want to perform
but first I must
humidify my guitar
Ate dinner
now there's a lump in my throat
so I'm gonna sit here
drinking tea 'till I feel
paradoxically soothed and energized
hamburger and homefries
the summer dish
perfect for outside
but here I sit in my A/C winterland
conditioning myself for hats and gloves
The water's warming and rising
the mosquito larvae have won
Itching in Yellow Fever delirium
These grassy hollows
were once a worthwhile place

The new wonders are now
grotesque animistic anomalies
Today, face-to-face with rabid rabbits
Tomorrow, the white light angels
with hyper beam cleansing
     they could no longer bear to watch
from porcelain obelisks
the human media screen
of indoor inexploration
fail to hide the sins
from the scale holding counters
Justice, the lucky one
with bandanna over eyes
still heard the profit wrenching semantics
get drowned out from screaming harpies
Responsible gods stopped their foray
in fear humans will survive
Dark matter engulfs all
in fear humans will survive
Fish The Pig Jan 2015
Empty rabbit holes
no wonderland
I live in winterland
head up in hinterland
frozen kneeling at the stand
holding out my hand
snowflakes are falling
not touching me though
arctic fox calling
under branches low
beneath the white
fox colored
fox match
they won the fight
they live in hinterland
head up in winterland
take me to where they fish
in sunhordland
Ann M Johnson Jan 2016
I am not able to conduct a parade
I would not want you to catch a chill
in the icy cold winterland
Lets stay inside where it is cozy and warm

Let my warm up your heart with songs
old and new as I serenade you
I hope the songs sung for 45 minutes
take you to the Top Of The World
because Baby Baby, you mean so much to be

I hope you will get to know me better As Time Goes By
and know that I am with you through both your laughter and your tears
I hope you will learn it more as i get Close To You throughout the years
You are My Funny Valentine that is for sure maybe that is why I Can't Falling In Love With You more each and every day
After years of darkness now I See The Light as it is shinning in your eyes
If you Kiss Me in the moonlight it will be a truly Wonderful World.
I am singing for a Valentine's celebration in the Apartment building were I live and there will be a potluck afterwards. My guy friend heard me practicing and got an early Valentine's serenade. The songs I am singing their titles are woven throughout the poem. Here I share this poem, with all you Hello Poetry friends. I am not sure whether or not to share this with my friend who heard me sing? Is it too cheesy?
Torin Aug 2018
I won't worry with the sunrise
I've spent nights carving my name into rocks
One for the moon
Two for you
Three for the stars that still find a way to sing
After all these years
My ever-loving reminder
To trust my fate
And keep my faith

Haven't my feet traveled the lands?
Raging. bold, and confindent
Though winterland
Steel and bone and cold
She dances like Aurora Borealis
As I trod on
Steadfast, determined
Through heat scorched deserts
I find you in the sands

I play with you
Beautiful thing
Beautiful dawn that I rise
Sweet honeysuckle on the vine
The flower, held in my hand close to my chest
The seed
The tree, the plant, the vine, the fruit
All significant
You are
And I know I told you I believe that you are water
You are water to me
However you arrive
In storms or gentle rain
You become rivers to me
Where I go to quench my thirst
To quell my fire
Subdue this spirit, soothe this pain
Love this soul
Bring me to the ocean
Johnny Hunt Jan 2016
the blood on this dental floss is muito rico!
i must write all about it;
that’ll show em.

{espero!}

but what will she think of it?
i think i'd like to be stuck to her,
like a plantain peel on a naked shore.
two giggling morons
under a chocolate moon.

{suspiro...}

yet i’m stuck in didactic verse.
in a winterland.
knitting sonnets about
oral hygiene
and shaky hands.

back in bed now,
the words start to come together:
“Scatter my ashes in Dublin, Ohio
  or the Bronx Zoo!"

I’m all over the place this morning.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
Down in meadows where sweet grass grows by the inch by moolite -a girl I  know she would stroll.. quietly ,barefoot and beautiful.

Flowers and rose petals filled the air as she strolled to valley.down.deep. this girl I know who couldn't sleep. she.strolled.to the green valley way down deep.

Nite breezes whispered sadness of love adrift like the echoing bubbly,babbling brook as cool grass mingled with achy feet she walked her cares to the valley down deep.

This lady I know is lovely and rare and full of sudden sweet surprise. Like the ones that sparkle from her sleepy eyes. I think she is layered and her sorrows are deep and her pain she does keep quiet and hidden
Way down deep.
So, I somtimes wonder and conjure  what it be to hold her hand ,put her head on my shoulder sing a lullaby low and deep and stroll together on the winding path that would take us by starlite and moonlite and gentle brook to.lay us both down  in clover and Jasmine.
stroke her brow and whisper.her away to sleep in the peacefull valley with windmills up on the hills.
That  place in her joyfull surrender in the green valley way down deep

This woman I know is soft as surrender and tough as iron but the girl inside still dreams the wistfill fairytale ending while doing and going and fixing unending. Regret like a stone on her shoulder, head bowed and sweet.she has kept to the task but now weary for rest and gentle persuasion.
There's a place in the gloaming where dreamwalkers meet a misty suspension. A warm sunny place a snow capped and glistening winterland an azure briney ocean and sand.
Sahara of rippling sand like sweet music rippling forth from a merciful harp that draws her up upwards and aloft  to soar and skim in freedom then she sails the Caribbean trades with the wind in her hair still dreaming wide awake.. she.sits on the bow and seaspray carresses her hopes . Salty misy and cool and she dreams in a dream inside of contemtment unending. Then soars aloft again infitfull sleep then plunges to depths of secrets well kept to.the valley so green and so deep.
To the valley
The valley of sleep.
To green meadows
In the valley.down deep.
Ann M Johnson Feb 2021
Valentine Serenade
I am not able to conduct a parade
I would not want you to catch a chill
in the icy cold winterland
Lets stay inside where it is cozy and warm

Let my warm up your heart with songs
old and new as I serenade you
I hope the songs sung for 45 minutes
take you to the Top Of The World
because Baby Baby, you mean so much to be

I hope you will get to know me better As Time Goes By
and know that I am with you through both your laughter and your tears
I hope you will learn it more as i get Close To You throughout the years
You are My Funny Valentine that is for sure maybe that is why I Can't Falling In Love With You more each and every day
After years of darkness now I See The Light as it is shining in your eyes
If you Kiss Me in the moonlight it will be a truly Wonderful World.
I am singing for a Valentine's celebration in the Apartment building were I live and there will be a potluck afterwards. My guy friend heard me practicing and got an early Valentine's serenade. The songs I am singing their titles are woven throughout the poem. Here I share this poem, with all you Hello Poetry friends.
emily Sep 2013
hello, your baby-brown-eyes flutter rad vibes into my shivery heart a mess with unsung feeling, we will stargaze a thousand nights together, this i know, my beautiful.  your beautiful is torturous & seductive as hell, i long, i yearn, i spin, perpetuate circles my head bowed to your toes, tell me your gory & everything.  i will keep you secret, i will keep you safe.  summer's kiss bestowed upon our rosy cheeks, we will walk through winterland with hands clasped tight, it is salvation.  hallelujah your unabashed love, your brimming heat, your humanity.  connection to connection, we become live wires every time our minds marry themselves in electric emotion, light the night, so ******* beautiful.  feel the love i send to you even when i am gone.  together in entangled wavelengths, in constant thought.  together in conscious attachment ascending rhyme or reason, in knowledge & understanding, in open wounds.
Jon Sawyer Mar 2014
I stare out of my cubicle window
to see a sheet of solid water
creeping, building, cragging, steeping

I come to, from out a merry winterland
and feel the urge to write a poem
about a scene worth painting.
12 March 2014 - R.I.P. Bob Ross
Sandaru Dec 2018
I regret every second
I regret the minutes of silence when nothing was said
I regret the moment i could have changed.

The seconds, the minutes
The hours, the days ,
I regret it all

Though not everything was filled with regrets
You were a brief summer warmth
In my desolate winterland
Blew life into my trees and made flowers bloom
Roses and lilies
Violets and daisy
You made me grow them all

My brief summer warmth came as fast as she left
And all that was left was a blistering cold wind
The trees all died and a beautiful garden as well
The roses withered and the violets and daisies grew not
For now it's once more a desolate winterland
And so I await for my brief summer warmth to come back

For It alone gave me strength
Endurance and hope
For when I am without it
I'm left with no hope

And so I mourn the loss of my brief summer warmth
I regret that I did not stop you
I wish I could have
But now present has become past
And what can a mere mortal do against time
And just as I was beginning to change
From winter to spring.
Would love some feedback on this.
SaturnKnight Jan 2016
Winter season
Cold, dry breezes
In this white Winterland
my heart tends to freeze
Death like trees
bring sadness to me
Feeling so weak
with shivering knees
Shouting for Spring time
to please rescue me
Stéphanie Oct 2017
I learned that ice burns too
from the frostbites we gave each other.
Where my tongue got stuck
to the iron of the blood
gently flowing from open wounds
artfully lining our freezing mouths.

Just like children
licking a frozen stop sign
a warning so red it just screams
that all of this
might have started with
the gentlest of intentions,
but still ended up
with us both imploding
like forgotten frozen pipes.

Because the cold invading our guts
expanded for so long
that it was then impossible
to slow down the shattering
of this weird winterland
we failed to see our world was.

And when came the time
to take back my tongue,
to tell you that I could no longer
live with the forming stalactite
of our mixed, dripping,
bloodstained saliva
stabbing at my heart,
the warm breath I exhaled
did not agree with your cold one.

Two opposite winds collided
creating a perfect storm
effectively capturing my voice
in the bull's eye of my lips.
My words did not know
if they should still
attempt to break through
or stay, eyes closed,
in this artificial peace.

Maybe the bull's eye could be
a temperature controlled utopia
where the teeth marks in our cheeks
would fade overtime
and our guts wouldn't explode
and the stabbing at my heart would stop.

However, when I opened
the lashes of my words
like a winter forest being burned down
and our eyes met
like little red frightened creatures
we understood
and only ended up drowning
in a pond of our own melted tears.
Tense laptop, delight lunch table,
they swings from time capsules.  


Of the depths, in the quiet, in the white of the winterland

When nothing made a sound,
Nothing!
 Not a mouse, nor an Elk


Not a deer, or a fox, or an owl
But a froster painting

Squeezed into my childhoods window.
Antony Glaser May 2022
Christmas  decorations in the dark,
same day motifs inspired by you,
hopes undeterred on fetching wind,
silver baubles bobbing on the bay.
Dormant dreams forlorn in Winterland,
yours is the world
begin with it.
Nik Bland May 2021
Whistle these lessons
In a chord progression
Reminiscent of birds
That felt spring on their wings

I have heard tales
Of enraptured ship sails
That follow horizons
Of which mortal men sing

Let memories flash
Like the waves that often crash
Make me passenger, captain
In the sea of my mind

Let me look skyward
To hear the whist’ling bird
That escaped to spring
To leave winterland behind

— The End —