winter

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Winter

Swoosh,swoosh.

Hear the winter gust blow.

Swoosh,swoosh.

As it blows up piles of snow.

Swoosh, swoosh

See the blanket of snow

Swoosh,swoosh

Now you feel the cold wind blow

The wind hit the windows like buckets of sand, a shrill whistle forming as it made its way through the cracks at the window’s base. My dog hid in a corner, whimpering, yet I was content. My father had crafted a raging fire, and the heat was emanating from the stove in a warm glow. I snuggled into my velvety blanket and read on, occasionally satiating myself with a small sip from a mug of hot cocoa heaped with fluffy marshmallows. I felt warm inside as my father opened the door and let a breath of cool air lick my rosy face. His body brushed past me towards the fire, leaving a wet, ice-cold trail on my exposed shoulder. I shivered and shoved my arm under the blanket as he threw the fireplace door open. His eyes squinted against the bright heat, so he quickly placed another piece of wood into its fiery mouth and closed it with a satisfying click. I let myself sink even further into the cushions of the couch and stared into the very depth of the fire. I felt my eyes start to water, yet I couldn’t bring myself to tear away. I stared until my eyes were burning as hot as the flames, and after a few blinks I let them rest. I fell into a deep slumber. Read more »

She sits outside under the midnight blue of the frigid night and feels how miniscule she is. As wind reaches with icy fingers to curl the tips of her hair, she breathes a cloud of mist into a sky of crystalline ice and retreats inward. Like it felt safe to do once.

Dawn will come. Dawn will come regardless and despite of her existence on this planet. The world will turn and the seasons will change and the tides will continue to go in and go out. Dawn will come, dance over the horizon, stretch arms of silvery gray or peach or crimson across the span of her little world, even if she did not and would never again.

The realization tastes strange on her tongue, sits oddly in her chest, and she tips her head back to stare at the sky and wonder. Wonder why humans have built themselves a pedestal on which to stand in the shadow of a mountain the size of the moon. Wonder how they can possibly continue to imagine themselves vital, or important, or even influential, as the world continues to turn and the seasons continue to change and the tides continue to go in and go out, even as they fade, and crumble, and dissolve into dust.

How tiny she feels now, as she considers stars burning in the black nothing of space, as she considers other worlds with other lives and other girls, sitting outside on a frigid night and feeling their own minisculidity, aching the way she does. Minisculeness? Do words matter, when the lives of humans barely do, in this whole messy scheme of things? Read more »

I couldn't feel as my fingertips froze;

I couldn't even feel my toes;

I couldn't feel you move close;

I couldn't feel the tip of my nose.

I couldn't feel my cheeks flush;

I couldn't feel my skin blush;

I couldn't feel my blood rush;

I couldn't feel your soft touch.

I couldn't feel my fingertips;

I couldn't feel the frost's bitter nips;

I couldn't feel or come to grips

that all I could feel was your lips.

I could only feel your lips pressed on mine.

I couldn't feel anything but that, and that felt just fine.

There is a winter wonderland; 

a place where people shuffle their feet

from place to place in the snow banks,

looking down at the ground, 

only looking up to greet passerby's

with a smile

from frosty lips.

Christmas lights decorate the shops, 

snowflakes decorate the trees,

and words decorate the pages

of the novels that everyone has their noses buried inside.

There are coffee shops on every corner,

giving people a warm reprieve from the winds and runny noses.

Their cheeks flush warm, eyes aglow.

Puddles melt from their boots,

and hearts melt from the people.

When they finally leave,

they savor the last sips of their drink

and push out of the door with a bell,

greeted by goodbyes.

Shuffling away, they stare at their boots,

only to look up to greet a lover

with a smile from frosty lips,

with eyes that shine bright against the snow,

and soft breaths of clouds

passing between them.

  Read more »

   Winter here is lots of snow. Winter here is full of sleds. Winter is a
skiing time here. Winter here is hot chocolate everywhere. Winter here
is at the mountains. Winter here is bringing out the shovels. Winter
here is the time of season that you see red noises on all the kids.
Winter here is snow ball fights everywhere (except during school).Winter
here is smiles all around. Winter here is snow gear time.

Winter

Oh winter Oh winter

You fill me with joy

You bring cheer to the poor little girls and the poor little boys

When you around everyone wants to be around

you bring us closer to that speacil place they call home

I watch as you sparkles touch the spirts of are hearts

But I ask you how?

How do you lift are spirts

When all we do is throgh trash on you!

If only the world would relize what we have we never had this befor

Oh I love you winter and I cry when you go

Winter Oh winter I will miss you so

Ski boots, cheek. Skis, cheeck. Warm winer jacket, cheek. Scarf, cheeck.
Hat, cheek. Gloves, cheeck. I hoped in my car, turned the engine on.
And off I went, up with a roar! Looking at the beautifull senery as I
went. The beautifull sugar capped mountins, and the glistening sky.
Beautifull, just simply beautifull. Pure beauty. Seeing the end of the
road behind me get smaller and smaller, untill it just, turned into
another blizzerd of snow. It was a good feeling, knowing a snow coverd
mountin would soon be headed my way, how could you pass a oppurtunitie
as great as this! A winter wonderland! A Vermont winter wonderland! A
ski day. But when i got there it was empty, i left early so there
wouldnt be a crowd, i assumed people just slept in, or went to grap a
cup of coffee, before comeing here. So i hoped abored the ski lift and
started my way up into a winter wonderland. As i was about half way
through the ride, gazeing into the horizin, i heard something, something
odd, it sounded as if a child, a little child calling, calling for, i
couldnt quiet make it out. But then i heard it again, calling, calling
for...for help! I looked behind me, and in the other chair, there was
alittle girl, all she was wearing was a plaid dress with a pee coat on. A
dress and a pee coat on? A below 10 temputre outside, a girl, all by
herself? That didnt seem right. But that wasnt all, ther ewas something
else about her, something i just couldnt put my finger on. I asked if Read more »

The last couple of years here in Vermont we've not had very much snow.
Hopefully this year that can all change and we start getting more snow
here.  The mountains on the other hand were making snow and some ski
areas are already open. for example sugar bush is open because they can
make there snow with machines all they do is put them somewhere on the
mountain then turn them on and there on all night long so that the snow
has time to freeze.  At other ski areas like Bolton.  The other ski
areas like Jay peak and Stowe are already up and running. I believe this
year is going to be better then what happened the last couple of years
gone by. Like last year Me and My uncle Bob went up to sugar bush for
the day It was the day after Thanksgiving. We went up to sugar bush and
some how they had made enough snow that we could go up there and ski and
board. we went on all the trails that were open that day. After that I
was pretty tired I was ready to go home and go to sleep. But other
winters me and my sister Sally go outside and sled in our backyard we
have a hill and we sometimes we even make a jump I really like spending
time with My younger sister Sally when ever I can.

In Vermont we have cold, fun cheery winter. when it snows it looks
like a winter wonderland.ermont we have cold, fun cheery winter. when
it snows it looks like a winter wonderland. When it snows, we ski and
snowboard. I don't sli, but it looks fun and I've heard it is really
fun. Also, I've seen snow boarding. I think it's really cool. They do
flips, 360's and all sorts of amazing turns. I free ice skating. That
means, I don't do shows. I just ice skate freely. I like winter in
Vermont because it feels like an acutal winter. Not like in Florida,
where it gets to the 50's. We get to make snowmen, snow forts, we have
snowball fights. We sled, we drink hot cocoa and all sorts of fun winter
related things.

In school we get a Holiday Break. School gets out for Holiday Break,
December 21, and goes until January 3. That is 11 days without school.
How nice is that? Though at school recess, we slide down icy slides, sit
together in a group and huddles to stay warm, we also just chat. In In
Vermont we have cold, fun cheery winter. when it snows it looks like a
winter wonderland.  In Vermont we have cold, fun cheery winter. When it snows
it looks like a winter wonderland.

A cold heart

is no good.

It can't beat.

It only breathes mascara and cigarettes.

Frigid and empty;

snowflakes clotting icy veins;

cold blooded.

Shivering underneath the December sky,

the twinkling prisms

and diamonds

burned out.

All that is left is a cold heart.

Surprises play in the

Mystery of

Starlight,

Snowflakes traced by the

Hand of Winter.

Serenity cloaks the

Darkness of 

Night,

Wisdom in it's 

Simplest form.

On my

Fingertips lie the

Snowflakes, the

Spirit of 

Hope preserved by

Ice.

The snow is falling all around,

It chills the air and cushions the ground,

I put on my coat and my snow pants,

I go outside and the cold chills my hands,

I fall on the ground and make a snow angel,

This kind of fun lasts throughout the ages,

I see the hill and start my ascent,

I sit on my sled and start my downhill descent,

It covers the treetops, this white, soft stuff,

This blanket of powdery white fluff,

I hang up my wet clothes,

And put on new,

I heat up some cocoa,

I sip it slow,

There's lots of wonderful things in this world,

And my favorite is snow, snow, snow!

The Winter Tale

Something

is happening i’m not sure what. It looks like heaven is falling but I

don’t think that's possible. Is it? No you're right it isn't heaven

falling but maybe its my imagination, but it seems so real. I touch it

its so cold I pull away but its gone, melted on my hand. I don’t know

what it is but I know i'm going to find out what it is sooner or later. I

decide to go out there into the mesmerising  wonderland outside. My

bare feet touch wet cold ground and I stop, because its so cold. I move

quickly to a new spot that surely will be warmer than my other spot. But

it's even colder and behind me my feet left exact replicas of my feet

in this weird white stuff. I think i’ll call it Swosh. As i’m running to

the trees on the Mist hill I see another white swosh drifting down I

stop and open my mouth in amazement again but this time the North wind

blows through and pushes the piece of white swosh into my mouth. I cough
Read more »

Wintertime

Jolly "Ho Ho Ho's" can't bring light to the sky.

Happiness cannot be brought by magic deer that fly.

Brightly colored presents can't bring a smile to my face.

Joy doesn't come from a pretty tree, all dressed up with lace.

I will not be found laughing from having a hot chocolate drink.

No cheery sounds will come from me by seeing white lights blink.

Nothing at this time will lift the corners of my mouth.

Sometimes I wish I lived somewhere warmer. Like in Florida, far down south.

I do not enjoy catching snowflakes on my tongue,

I do not appreciate having merry bells rung.

Only one thing cheers me at this time of year.

Do not laugh at it, and please do not jeer.

What I do cherish cannot be sold,

I have never heard a story about it being told,

It has nothing at all to do with being cold,

It has been here forever, it's centuries old.

My favorite time of the year is when there is snow covering the grounds. It makes the air smell like wood stoves, from all of the houses struggling to keep themselves, and to push the cold out. The layer of snow always makes me want to put my snowshoes on, and go snowshoeing in the woods on a sunday afternoon. The crunch of the crusted top layer of snow against the poles of my snowshoes is always a sound I enjoy hearing in the winter. Trekking deep into the woods behind my house is always quite enjoyable. I enjoy hearing the occasional snap of a branch from my dog, who usually walks ahead of me. I like to see the bubbles flow under the iced of rivers, and the I like to hear the gurgling of the water of rocks — which take up different tones during the winter. I like to see some of the pine needles on the snow surrounding the conifer trees that make up half of the forest behind my house. I like to see the snow melt off of the front part of my boot, when I step into the warm house after I have been outside in the wind-nipping air while snowshoeing. Read more »

A gray sky

plain

neither dark nor light

Snow piling in drifts

seemingly soft puffs

weighing down

branches of trees

Flurries 

pirouetting

in whirlwinds

I trudge down a deserted

icy road

dodging

parties of snowflakes

and walk into

an abandoned garden

Lifelike statues

covered in white gowns

welcome me

Fiery red cardinals

startled by my presence

fly into nearby trees

Glittery, sparkling

flakes of snow

decorate plants

long gone by

I shiver

as darkness approaches

and think of

home

and the taste of

hot chocolate

I have many tales to be told about winter,

Some are good,

Some are bad,

I have many tales to be told about winter but I choose this one to share with you,

This memory is of sledding with a friend and a tree and in the end a hospital visit,

And it goes a little something like this,

Getting all bundled up,

Red gloves, no hat, grey snow pants, black boots and a red coat

Looking for sleds

Where are they?

I don’t know

Oh well we will be fine without them

Snow! Lots of it,

A thin layer of ice over the top making it impossible to reach the top of any hill

Finally success the top of a hill

Time to go down, I’ll go first

Snow flying up in my face

Uh-oh a stump

Flying, for a second then, thunk, I’m back on the ground

It didn’t hurt too bad

Maybe I should slow down,

Feet out trying to dig into the snow,

Panic I can’t stop its too icy

Now there is a tree, when did that get there?

Whack!my head hit’s the tree

Ouch that hurt, a lot

I feel my head but I see no blood, thanks to my red gloves,

I’m okay maybe I should just put my head in the snow, that will help

I’m laying down when my friend points out the blood in the snow next to my head,

Oh darn I hate blood,

Glove comes off hand to head, Read more »

Winter. The time when all the leaves have calmly fallen from the trees and the air is chilling to the bone. When you go outside and see the snow gently falling to ground, accumulating to many feet, tempting you to plunge in. Winter is the most beautiful of the seasons, when you proudly and joyfully walk outside early in the morning with hats and gloves and huge jackets on. You spend all day outside, sometimes just laying face up in the snow and coming back inside hours later, all wet, and you climb into a warm bed. You can do anything in winter with the snow. You can build snow forts and have snowball fights or you can dig giant tunnels, or just play regular games, but in the snow. Winter is a time of joy, when everybody and everything is relaxed and delighted.   

Outside My Window

By Dave Persha

I hear winter coming with all his might

His tremendous strength at hand

Lock the windows close the doors

Because he's right outside my window

At first there's snowflakes one by one

Then rush the scene with white

Four feet of snow too deep to go

Trudging through the night

So I stay inside free yet caged

Looking out my window

The next day the sun comes out

But only tantalizing tastes

For I know snow will come back

So inside I must make haste

Runny nose and freezing toes

Await outside my window

The sun is gone! No dusk no dawn!

Just the blandness of the grey

Yet who'd have guess in dark green dress 

The pines that were here to stay.

Now two colors green and white compete to and fro

As I watch warm and snug, right outside my window

The warmth of flame, the chirp of the kettle

The calling of my chair

All enticing things all priceless things

Yet i'm caught in one more snare

Adventure roars a mighty sound

An invitation I must accept

The only problem is I have to take the first and only step

Just right outside my window

                         DEAD OF WINTER

By Jesse Gottesdiener

First you see it the never ending white

Brings back the memories no matter how hard I fight

Taking that first step into the cold

The second I saw her my heart was already sold

The wind is bitter and chills to the bone

So much harder to take it alone

Fall back hoping it will engulf me and be a force field

The memories still flow of what could’ve been my fate is sealed

Eyes closed in my last breath I say the words I’ve been dying to say I love you

From a distance I hear the words back I love you to

Rejuvenated those words they heal

She says to me I couldn’t stay away my heart you did steal

Our eyes they meet

Her hand in mine the cold turns to heat

I’m no longer in the darkest hour

It must be spring because I just saw the first flower

Winter

by Leslie Botey

Little white clouds,

Falling,

Falling,

Ever so softly on my face,

Kissing my cheeks,

Caressing me like a blanket.

The sun only smiles at you every once and awhile,

Glittery dust covers the ground in the sun's wake,

They wait for me,

Invitingly calling my eyes,

Whenever the wind picks up its lover,

To do a dance of brilliancy across the field and in my heart.

The days slowly and reluctantly creep into darkness,

At first unsettling,

But then,

The crisp nights offer me a diamond sky,

And their tears keep me company,

On those lonely winter nights.

While the wind blows,

It whispers in my ears,

Telling me of its wishes,

Telling me of its fears,

It howls like the lone wolf at the brilliant moon.

The silence is startling,

You tell me everything,

And nothing at the same time, Read more »

Snowflakes falling

Trees weighed down like an ant,

Struggling with a morsel of food

Plants laden with an eerie dusting

Of whiteness

The stillness in the air

Like a long forgotten postcard

In the bottom of the junk drawer

The smell of gingerbread, pine, the clean snow, the warm scent

Of maple, slowly burning in a fireplace

Brings back memories of waking up extra early

Memories of hours of playing in the snows

Gentleness

The sounds of winter birds

Scrambling for the last piece of food on a long forgotten bird feeder

Night

Snow flowing dreamily

Lulling them to sleep like a slow, soft lullaby

Getting Lost in the Stars

By Sam Amber Read more »

Friendship lasts

Even in winter

When all is hazy
 

Distorting images of the world

A frozen shard Read more »

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