Winter's Artist
An awesome scene the artist paints, expert and deft his hand.
Brush strokes swift, he draws with ease, a winter wonderland.
Landscape sketched from memory, heavens and land entwine
Rapidly the scene is set, exquisitely divine.
Winter is the season when the whole world seems to go to sleep. The weather is cold, the ground is hard, and the trees and plants seem to be dead. Since there is little else to do, it is a time that is conducive to working hard. There isn't much else to do, and the weather seems to suggest that we must buckle down and do the things that we have been avoiding. This is not a bad thing. It can very satisfying to work hard and be creative. Creativity is part of our makeup. Without a purpose in our lives, depression would quickly set in.
An awesome scene the artist paints, expert and deft his hand.
Brush strokes swift, he draws with ease, a winter wonderland.
Landscape sketched from memory, heavens and land entwine
Rapidly the scene is set, exquisitely divine.
Awesome poetry!!!
You paint a picture so extremely grand
of a magical winter wonderland
Though Jack Frost may bite fingers, nose and toes,
his art compares to Michelangelo's.
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Shimmering lakes of silvery ice
welcomes skaters' scarring slice.
Hills adorned in lacy white
watch children sleigh into the night.
This poem is absolutely beautiful! My 3-6year old Montessori students have worked on memorizing this poem for their Memorization Work this month. They are able to recite the entire thing!
Winter's sleep so close to death,
piercing with his arctic breath.
Brittle, naked limbs stretch high
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On those cold and frosty winter's mornings when the grass crunches beneath your feet,
and you're wrapped up in layers, hats and scarves, as is everyone else you meet
When each time you exhale a breath of steam quickly disappears into the chilled air,
Thank you for your kind words, it's a great feeling to know that something I wrote is enjoyed by others, and those so far away. Kind regards -Paul
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay
I love this poem. It make me appreciate what the writer had done.
Snow is falling, as quiet as a mouse;
On people and on dogs, and on our house.
A fluffy blanket now covers the street -
The cars are white, and that is neat.
I love this poem! It brings back so many memories of my childhood and my two sons growing up and the snow days off of school. They would be peeking out the window most of the night, wishing &...
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Spirals of frozen pieces in air
Flakes of crystal falling in pair
Ground laying with fair icy sand
December welcomes a paradise land
Snowy white fox of the Arctic,
was it your brush-like tail
that sprayed snow, like crystal sparks,
adorning the dark sky with a shimmering veil?
Roses and lilies, all covered in white.
An image of beauty this winter night.
The first snow is breathtaking to behold.
The end of fall and the beginning of cold.
I live in Australia; we are experiencing devastating bush fires. Snow seems like a wonderland by sheer
contrast. Lovely poem, well deserved.