Tis the season .
Chilled the winter winds doth blow,
Soon silence reigns supreme.
For all about lays stark and white,
That hides this land of green.
Floret leaves of emerald spears,
Red berries plump and ripe.
Come dusk, that turns to starry skies,
In sharp focus, sparkling bright.
Through half draped curtains, chinks of light,
Invade the cold night air.
There gentle rays on the glistening dust.
Ghost like shadows now appear.
Inside the tots are now tucked up,
Their faces all aglow
For young and old, on Christmas Eve,
Wait for sleigh bells through the snow.
© N Windle 2010
Posted on 26 December '10 by admin, under Nature poems. No Comments.
From blade of grass to the tip of twig,
The white dust of winter fall’s.
Frenzied flakes move in lost abandonment,
Finally to pitch on fence and wall’s.
On the throat the rasping of cold crisp air,
The sound of snow crunching underfoot.
As the day grows short and night draws in,
And the homeward journey took.
Familiar shapes come into view,
There outlines soften by the snow.
Roofs, now donned in brilliant white
Ice jewellery now on show.
The old mill wheel lies motionless,
So still the little stream.
Held fast by Jack Frost clutches,
In a Christmas greeting scene.
Chinks of light through windows,
Gives some comfort and delight.
Cast a beam with an incandescent glow,
On white grains as they glisten bright.
At the door the latch clicks open,
And with thud now latched again.
Keeping winter firmly on the out side,
It’s, thoughts of summer to retain.
© Nicholas Windle. 2009
