A soft snowfall Below my feet it crunches Cold air wraps sround me Deep down I love the cold Even if It hurts my Fingers a toes Gloves on scarf on makes it better Hate to see the snow melt It makes the ground all muddy Just in time for the flowers to grow Kill the flowers when the snow comes in again Life is not here Many things are gone Never the less we move one Open the window Pour some hot tea Quaint little cottage Reading with you and me Sit in the window and watch the snow fall Till it gets dark and things get to cold Up ths stairs i go to bed Very grateful for the snow that has fallen Welcoming the morning X on the calender You know what it means Zero Days till winter break

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🫀

I fell asleep in October And woke up to barren trees— I didn’t stay awake long enough for the leaves to change colors.

I was a ghost haunting the ruins of my beautiful mind, My last creative spark shorted a circuit But I have an obituary to write.

Time flew by and left me in the dust To sort through rubble until my fingers bleed.

Feminity has always felt like a costume, Consumed by the whims of the moon—

He stole my will to live By taking more than he could give.

Winter Drift**

Snowflakes fall.   Light twirls silently.   Yonder night glimmers softly.   Yet tenderly, winds dart eastward.   Dancing caresses silently trace evening frost.   Tangled elegance starts whispering cold echoes.

Winter is cruel Like you Winter is cold Like you Winter leaves some empty Like what you do

Spring is warm Like him Spring is sweet Like him Spring cares for others Unlike you

Summer is happy Like her Summer is caring Like her Summer leaves people fulfilled Unlike you

Fall is creative Like her Fall is cheery Like her Fall wants people to be happy Unlike you

All you do is break us down Find our flaws Chews us out. You don’t love us, Despite what you say.

You don’t love this family. I’m sure you wouldn’t notice if we were gone. Didn’t care enough about us before To help me through my suffering. But the others did. They cared, But your controlled by her And she whispered no, So you screamed it.

Your a wicked, twisted woman. Why do I even have to consider you to be my grandma?

{This is sort of a vent in a way. My grandmother is super cruel and doesn’t care about us, so I just needed to write about it. Spring= my dad Summer= my sister Fall= my mom The second “her” is my aunt: E.g.= “But your controlled by her”

The rule is to start the next line with the last word of the previous line.

•••

Winter, a season of frosty beauty and quiet reflection.

Reflection on the year gone by, by the crackling fire, fire that warms the soul and chases away the chill.

Chill winds whisper through the barren trees, trees standing tall in their winter coats of snow.

Snowflakes dance in the cold air, air filled with the promise of a new beginning.

Beginning to feel the magic of winter's embrace, embrace the stillness of the snowy landscape.

Landscape transformed into a winter wonderland, wonderland of white and silver under the pale winter sun.

Sun sets early, early darkness envelops the world in a blanket of peace.

Peace settles over the land, land that sleeps beneath the snowy blanket.

Blanket of snow muffles the sounds of the world, world hushed in winter's gentle grip.

Grip of winter tightens, tightens its hold on nature's slumber.

Slumber deepens under the frosty sky, sky painted with stars that twinkle in the cold.

Cold seeps into bones, bones ache in the icy night.

Night falls silent, silent except for the howling wind.

Wind whistles through the frozen landscape, landscape stark and beautiful in its wintry stillness.

Stillness reigns in the heart of winter, winter's icy touch a reminder of nature's power.

Power of the season to transform, transform the world into a frozen masterpiece.

Masterpiece of nature's creation, creation of a winter wonderland.

Wonderland where time seems to stand still, still under the watchful eye of winter's frosty gaze.

Gaze upon this frozen world, world of winter's enchantment and beauty.

Beauty in the cold, cold that brings a sense of peace and renewal.

Renewal in the quiet of winter, winter's gift of reflection and contemplation.

Contemplation of the beauty and wonder of this season, season of winter's magic and mystery.

My rules are that the next line starts with the last word of the previous line.

The Delicate Seed

Fragile like a delicate seed Seed of hope that starts to grow Grow into a connection so strong Strong like the roots that run deep Deep in the earth anchored below Below our silent strength unseen Unseen by the naked eyes Eyes that in darkness shine bright Bright enough to guide us through Through valleys deep and mountains high High to low and everywhere in between In between is just a vibrant space Space where you can find your soul Soul this inner space brings inner calm Calm is waiting for you to begin Begin again like the fragile seed.

(My rules were it had to be ABBA in twelve lines.)

It’s colder now, with shorter days. We sit by fires that crackle and burn Wrapped in a blanket as we yearn For the sun’s comforting warm rays.

We wish spring would come again! Snow gently blankets the dying earth, We didn’t know how much summer was worth. We took it much for granted then.

We must now sit through the storm Drink some cocoa and warm soup Remember the seasons are on a loop Soon it will again be warm.

(You may only use a word once in this poem, and every second line must rhyme (ABAC…))

I wait all year for its shortest day Through months that scorch, blaze, burn My heart seeks shelter from flaming rays Longs after chilling, comforting snow

Blizzards cause the willows’ sway Chipped ice, winters breath And though flowers seemingly signal May This foretells Decembers harvest

We admire night’s awesome display Stars, moon, aurora borealis A creature of twilight, sun I’ll betray To see our world’s natural death

(I've never written a poem like this before, but I tried my best! The challenge I am giving myself is to write a poem using ballet terms, which I am definitely not knowledgeable in.)

In the beautiful loom of winter, a dance seems to start.

The shadows begin first, stretching their legs as far out as their bodies allow.

The darkness takes center stage with the moon, their bodies bending and molding together, the stars accompanying with gentle demi-pliés.

The wind picks up in a sweeping glissade, teasing the trees, guiding their leaves in tender pirouettes.

The birds and the foxes, the rabbits and mice all a captive audience to winter's frigid embrace. Soft paws and assemblés lead to quiet resting places.

Winter's call is the startup of an orchestra, and the readying feet of dancers. It is the way the sun stands ready, arms open, for the final grand allegro.

My rule is that I used no verbs in my poem. And my poem is not about winter. Sorry guys. —————————— Long days, sleepless nights, Forgotten whispers, fading lights. Woman down, heart broken, Tear stained pillows, Words unspoken.

Wishful thinking, foolish dreams, Fetal position, tattered seems, Passion lost, duplicitous lies, False intentions, cruel disguise.

Dead roses, Wine drenched floor, Crumpled tissues, body sore. Shattered glass, Bloodshot eyes, Razor’s edge, severed ties.

Black bruises, desperate calls, Bloody knuckles, Holes in walls. Weary soul, Last refrain, Loaded gun, no more pain.