Oct 21
Kittykatruff's picture

By The Fire

(Editor's Note: This is one of the winning submissions for Winter Tales and will be performed by Vermont Stage on Dec. 12. Find out more here!)

Winter is my favorite season.
I stay warm by the fire
With a cup of cocoa, and watch
The snowflakes fall gracefully, dancing
With the flames. 

Sometimes Nature holds her breath
And all is still; when I step outside, the silence
Is only broken by the crunch of snow 
Under my feet.

Other times, the winds howls as a lonely wolf
Lamenting the forlorn expression of the moon,
Tearing at braches, scouring houses with sharp 
Icy crystals, whipping across my face, 
Stinging my eyes, slashing ears and fingertips, 
As I hurry home to safety from the storm.

The best time of all is when 
The world pauses for a moment, though not
In anticipation, simply to ponder 
Its own existence.

Oct 19

Snow Dawn

Waking up
To the silent sound 
Of snowflakes twirling 
To the ground.
It's barely dawn
With the sun rising 
from its chambers 
beneath the mountains,
The stars unwilling to dim 
their short-lived light.
Yet the snowflakes mirror them,
Drifting to fill the valleys
In a cold, crisp carpet.
Walking out
To the half-darkness of winter,
The beauty within the ice,
The sword within the stone.
Sensing the danger in the snow,
Yet unable to pull away
From trees that seem to glow.
No one has ever been able to resist Winter.
It's the right time for wonder.
If you're going to take a plunge into mystery,
Then waking up to snowflakes
Falling outside your window
Is, perhaps, the best way to do it. 
Oct 19
poem 1 comment challenge: Winter/18
Ordinary Owen's picture

Solitary Winter

Swing sets grind to icy halts, and fluffy layers of snow are trampled as my classmates swarm into chaotic crowds, eager to leave December’s chilled embrace.

Friends leave mid-conversation, teachers stop listening to maintain the mob of 11-year-olds.

Insulted that the snow, blanketed with care, has been destroyed, abandoned Winter begins to straighten the ground once more with frigid attention.

Eyes lost in the glistening seas of snowflakes as they slowly climb down from the heavens above, a body stands by the howling wind.

There is a comfort found in frost. A solace found in the cold.

Lone Winter and I find friendship. We do not leave each other mid-conversation, we do not stop listening. Because in the presence of each other we are not alone.

One electric blue jacket stays within this gelid plain of white.
Oct 16
ccdussault's picture

Snow Plow

Digging holes in the snow,
These would be our homes.
We are like an old couple,
Bickering back and forth on who has made the best one.

The cold had made it to our fingertips,
Our red cheeks glowed brighter as the bright flashing light moved closer to us.
A loud roar creeps towards us by the second.
A rush of adrenaline soars through us as we run away.
We are stumbling,
as the snow grabs onto our feet after each step we take.
We feel the strike of cold shoot through our bodies as we go head first into the snow.

Wiping the bitter blizzard away from our faces,
We watch at the last instant,
as our whole afternoon is diminished.

We watch the light fade away,
With sour faces.
As if nothing had happened,
Our whole afternoon had been abolished.

Oct 16

Joyous Winter

White flakes
         Drifted down to the cold ground
                 Covering the dead grass with a fresh sheet of foam
                               Laughter filled the air
                  As small children ran out the door
           All bundled up in their coats, hats, scarves, and gloves
Their boots left little footprints in the fresh snow as they ran

Their joyous laughter         cut threw the muffled cold air
As they caught crisp snowflakes on their tongues

Screams of enjoyment echoed from their mouths
            As they were called back in
                    With rosy pink cheeks and red noses
             Their shivering bodies ran back through the door

For a warm cup of cocoa
The sign

That winter has come
Oh joyous winter  

Oct 09
adowning's picture



Benjamin Edwards

Skis fly

Target seen

Jump into prone

Steady to fire  
Skis fly

Target has a hole

Jump up

And off I go
Skis fly

Shot again

Get back up

Dash off
Skis fly

I’m a blur

Faster faster
My tired eyes cross the line
Oct 09
adowning's picture

Ice Fishing

Ice Fishing

By Ayden Clark

With a jacket like a heater

And a helmet on my head

I turn

through the


crunch crunch crunch

As the wheels break sticks

and I cautiously drive out

onto the lake

Swish Sposh

says slush on the water

Then I park

put my green and black

rod in the holder

And wait

And wait

And wait

Until the drag starts to

Ring Ring Ring

Like a bell

from the fish


The line

I reel

And reel

And reel

And the dark brown with gold


Flops out of the hole



the ice

Splash splash

Flop Flop




Oct 09
poem 1 comment challenge: Winter/18
adowning's picture

Black Ice

Black ice

By Regis Houlier

Black ice, the villain of


Always incognito

Hiding, Waiting for me. Wanting me

To slip into its trap

Creeping up right under me  

And right when I get near it

When I least expect it

It springs to attack

Shooting me

Across its villainess body


And slamming  

Me to the ground like

A nail

 Laughing at me

With its cold heart

As I limp away

In pain

Oct 09
adowning's picture

Winter and Summer

Winter & Summer

By Lauren Angus
Love catching snowflakes on my glove

Summer’s popsicle  

Both melting as soon as you get them
Love building a snowman

Summer’s sand castle

They don't last long
Love having snowball fights

Summer’s water balloons

You get wet either way  
Love finding icicles

Summer’s flowers

They come every year
Love having snow days

Summer’s vacation

Always outside  


They are almost the same

Just different
Oct 06
kat_writer's picture


Winter, such a bleak time
but in some way magical.
With all of winter's great, fluffy snow
it's a shame that it's dark
when I get home from school.

What is better 
than after a great day with the skis,
than coming home
to hot food and TV?

Winter, when my hands dry up
and my house works to stay warm.
I roll in the snow like a child and wonder
without the snow, what would life be?

This season is such a meaningful time
for all people like me.
And while it is below zero out there,
I appreciate me,
and this massive warm box I call home.

Winter, when we all curl up
like tiny little kittens.
Some people wish to find warmth down south,
While others must stay in this white heaven.

I go outside and watch my breath
float away in the wind,
I cannot believe this will end,
But also want spring to begin
Mar 24


pain is a multi-stage pair of steps

it starts with an event; or something mentally efferus

the lack of motivation kicks in before anything else

sometimes you know it and sometimes you don’t know it

but like pain it’s always there.

the second step is to pretend to block it out with a smile

become an eccedentesiast to everyone else

while everyone else thinks that your world is full of ataraxia.

the third is to not speak of the tacenda

while in the back of your head you’re screaming out for help

but love, you’re already used to suffering.

the fourth, the easiest, is to become a lacuna

“a blank space” as they say

by this time you’ll be solivagant so it shouldn’t be too hard.

there are benefits to being in pain--

you’ll understand just how fake everyone else is.
Mar 24


Deep pain growing in my abdomen.
Sharp, searing pain flowing through my stomach.
Deep breath... deep breath.
Keep walking along this road, keep going...
In search of nourishment.
(not finished)
Mar 24

The In-Between

I walk amidst opaque clouds
That hold many wild stories.
They tell tales of flying through space,
Or of monsters chasing someone,
Or even of falling endlessly.

I dance amidst the shadowy clouds
As they act out their stories.
Bright lights pop up here and there,
Loud music plays in one cloud as
Soft melodies play in others.

I leap and shout for joy
As I watch a little girl soaring
In the air with her cuddly
Teddy bear, but shiver with fear as
A small boy is terrorized by his imaginary monster.

I watch all these stories unfold,
Each one with a uniqueness like
None other.
That's when I realize that all of these stories...
...Are dreams.
Mar 24

Down The Road

Silently, I walk down the dusty dirt road,
Just five minutes away from my house.
The wind stirs and hugs me from behind as
I continue on my trek back home;
That's when I notice it.
I carefully pick up the folded piece of notebook
Paper that, oddly enough,
Has my name written on the front.
I cautiously open it,
To find a small diamond ring
Tucked into it, along with
A note:
My dear Brookline;
I hope you haven't forgotten me, because we haven't seen one another for a long time.
I wanted to give you this; it was your mother's ring that I had given her when I asked her to marry me.
Mar 23

The optimism of obituaries

Some people read the sports
Some people read the political news
I read the obituaries.
They have always fascinated me 
Because they are so freaking optimistic for a death announcement.
It’s like the people who wrote are trying to let the reader know that it’s okay.
They were really happy when they died.
And I guess they were.
But we will never really know right?
Sometimes there are really young people in there
And I always wonder “Were they happy?”
Try reading the obituaries while listening to music.
It makes them really meaningful.
And maybe even happy.
A celebration of life.

Mar 23


Is HOME a concept?
If it is, it's one I don't understand

Because my blood does not feel like it belongs in my body
And when I hold still I can feel all the tiny pieces of pale, shapely bone holding my body together
How beautiful is bone
How delicate are the bones in my hands
Hands that are always cold
Cold blood
Cold mornings that keep me in my bed
My head beneath the covers
My head that aches at the beginning of ever day
And the end of every evening pressure building behind my eyes
My eyes
The only part of me that feels right

Is HOME a feeling?
If it is, I can't feel it

Even though this place is full of things that remind me of home
With it's crystals, pure and clear and natural
Children of the Earth
The Earth
held together by stone, strong, solid stone
Buried deep in the ground
The ground
Where roots twist and bend 
Connected to trees
Mar 23
poem 0 comments challenge: Frost

A little bee

I found a small and vivid bee
Laughing and sipping from a wildflower
It danced in spirals across the field with each passing hour.
Falling across the rays of sunshine, this creature could only see
The good in the world, because he only knew how to be free.
He found a drop of silver dew that he quickly devoured.
Its fairy wings buzzed upon his back as he flew through the willow's bowers
And alight upon the blooming cherry tree.

Then came the winter's cold decree
And the wind began to sour
He had to run and flee
Leaving scattered leaves of tea
I never saw him in the meadows that had began to deflower
But he left his tall stemmed towers.

Mar 23
zazu's picture

rainbow at night

An ambulance siren whales through the night,
It's pitch rising and falling in the crisp winter air.
Pedestrians scurry on the sidewalk, many floors below my bedroom window,
And I could wonder:
Where are they going?
What are they thinking?
But I will never know as I sit and gaze out over the city.
The city that never sleeps.
An explosion of light in the darkness,
With shimmering skyscrapers,
And tall buildings, that glow over streets, shedding their light.

I zip up my jacket, and open my apartment door.
My boots tap softly on the hall carpet.
I ride the elevator down to the lobby,
And then go out into the street.
Outside, where the only view is at eye level.

It makes me feel small to know that someone could be looking down at me right now,
The way I looked at them.
Mar 22
poem 0 comments challenge: Wordgame
Roses and Summer Dreams's picture


To see your reflection in the water.
But there are bubbles.
Insecurity. Depression. 
All hidden in the warm, shallow, clear water. 

To see your reflection in the water-
Beauty is shown as well.
Love for yourself.
All hidden in the cold, deep, murky water.

Not everything is what it looks to be.
Joy fills the world- 
If you ignore the exaggerated news.
And water is just the challenge
To see if you love YOU.
Mar 22
lilnoreault's picture

I’m afraid

I’m afraid, 
the world doesn’t love me
it doesn’t care about a girl from a little state in Vermont 
I’m just another problem
something to worry about
even if I am a child of god
he may not care of me
or see me
for who I am
show me
am I loved?
do you care
you don’t cause you just think you only matter
I am alone
left to cry
to show fear
I have no light at the end of my tunnel

im different,
I care what the news, friends, family, even what the president says
Cause I am different
no boy or friends to love

that is what are world has come too
what we consider friends is
a heart next to a post
what are we doing with are lives

....I may not be loved but
share your love with people in your school, work, Community