I caught snowflakes
on my fingertips
but they melted
to my dismay.
Poems About the Magic of Snowflakes
Winter has very few redeeming qualities. Many animals find that the best thing to do is simply sleep through it. Studies show that human beings sleep more during the winter months as well. One of the few redeeming qualities of winter is snow. There are few things more magical than looking out the window from your house and discovering those first flurries gently falling to the ground. When the snow builds up outside our houses it envelops us in a warm cocoon. The time has come to put on your warm slippers, a cozy blanket, and curl up with some hot chocolate.
Winter Snow Poems
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Featured Shared Story
Awesome. When more of us realize that, the better off we all will be. I really like this poem.
Making A Snowman
There's a silence so loud that it's deafening,
And the sun seems unusually bright.
The world is awakening to a bitter cold morn
And a crystalline blanket of white.Featured Shared Story
I was lucky enough to accidentally stumble on your poetry, which I very much enjoy. Like you, I am retired and finding writing poetry very therapeutic, both in lockdown and because my husband...
Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.Featured Shared Story
The time was 1958, the school Oak Park River Forest High, in a western suburb west of Chicago. The class was English Literature, and the teacher was Mildred Linden. After Christmas break, we...
Poem About The Beauty Of Snow Falling Silently
The night sky is a dull grey white.
An opaque dust sheet floats so light
Upon the roofs and lamps and cars.
It settles so softly like falling stars.Featured Shared Story
Oh for the winters of long ago, when the earth would often be covered in snow. How beautifully this poem describes snowflakes silently falling throughout the still of the night and the world...
Waiting For Snow To Fall
"It's the middle of winter," they would say,
But I just stared in dismay.
"How could it be winter without a blanket of snow?"
They said, "We do not know."Featured Shared Story
I remember reading a poem when I was younger about a boy who was in bed and imagined that it snowed outside--I think he heard all the right sounds--and wished so hard that it was snow--but...
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.Featured Shared Story
I was all of 16 years old (1958) at Oak Park High. We finished subjugating and conjugating at the end of our sophomore year. Finally I could put that dangling participle to rest and move on...
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