Hear the winter gust blow.
As it blows up piles of snow.
See the blanket of snow
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.
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.
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
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;
Shivering underneath the December sky,
the twinkling prisms
All that is left is a cold heart.
Surprises play in the
Snowflakes traced by the
Hand of Winter.
Serenity cloaks the
Wisdom in it's
Fingertips lie the
Hope preserved by
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
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 »
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
neither dark nor light
Snow piling in drifts
seemingly soft puffs
branches of trees
I trudge down a deserted
parties of snowflakes
and walk into
an abandoned garden
covered in white gowns
Fiery red cardinals
startled by my presence
fly into nearby trees
flakes of snow
long gone by
as darkness approaches
and think of
and the taste of
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.
By Leyte Carolynn McNealus
Early, the sun rise and earlier it sets
the Winter is dedicated to those who chase the sun
sleepy snow laden roads,
only traveled by those who push into the mountains
Winter belongs to the people who watch the sunrise from the top of a mountain
orange pink glow on ridges of white snow.
It's that cold breath that tingles in your nose
the people who love that feeling
the ones who smile when it starts to get cold
And ecstatic at the first falling ice crystal
it's the people who pull you in for a hug, on a mountain top
when you lie on the snow and take nothing for granted
the people who have icy stars in their heart, and a smile on their face
Those are my people, The Warriors of Winter
Hair Frosty White
By Leyte Carolynn McNealus
A young girl stood, hair snow white
on cold steel edges fast she goes
the world whips by, but all she sees is the finish line
Fragile ice stars cover her world, from morning to night
a smile so genuine, it makes a villain cry
laughter so pure, it makes the sun shine
A simple sound... gates hit the ground is the heartbeat of her life
the frost in the air
the first breath of cold air
Long grow her locks of pure white
her eyes have a sparkle, of desire, of love
snow may melt, but bonded by love
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
by Leslie Botey
Little white clouds,
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,
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 »
Trees weighed down like an ant,
Struggling with a morsel of food
Plants laden with an eerie dusting
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
The sounds of winter birds
Scrambling for the last piece of food on a long forgotten bird feeder
Snow flowing dreamily
Lulling them to sleep like a slow, soft lullaby
Getting Lost in the Stars
By Sam Amber Read more »
Even in winter
When all is hazy
Distorting images of the world
A frozen shard Read more »