Tuesday, December 1, 2009

A Note from Old Man Winter...

I arrive in the dead of night
when the world is still and void of light
and unaware, you lie in bed
with dreams of summer in your head-
all shimmering and bright...

And when you wake to find me here,
that sad expression will appear,
the one that says, "Oh no! Not yet!"
Oh, how quickly you forget
what beauty ends the year.

So quietly, like each December
I abide while you remember
the lovely sound of crunching snow
and crackling fires, all aglow-
first spark to final ember...

And pale moonlight, soft on your skin
that blush of pink, warmth from within
as you stroll through my icy field
and bare tree limbs, their souls revealed,
beguile you once again.

Of course I know that seasons fade
and the first red bloom or bright green blade
will likely your affections steal-
just don't forget the true appeal
of snowflakes on parade.

13 comments:

  1. So truth be told, we rarely have snow in December in my part of the country. However, it's difficult to write a winter poem without mentioning a beautiful blanket of white, so I wrote it anyway! :)

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  2. I so enjoyed reading this, Kristin :)
    I was given to believe it snowed there most part of the year..somehow, it just got into my head! :)

    anyway, know what...My Old Man Winter IS a blanket seller who comes every winter...He comes from Kashmir :)

    wishes,
    devika

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  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  4. I was saying..BUT, this idea of winter as an old man doesn't appeal me much....I think of Winter as the period when Mother Earth is pregnant, preparing for the delivery of spring :)

    wishes,
    devika

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  5. Outstanding, my first breath of winter is always sheer delight, and you've written it up perfectly ;)

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  6. may the warmth of those flickering flames of your winter fireside illuminations dance to the rhythm of this awe-inspiring poem and give birth to many more - totally magical verses you have crafted, Kristin.

    a pilgrim's verses from new england couldn't out shine, "the pale moonlight, soft on your skin, that brush of pink..."

    it is too bad Robert Frost couldn't have stayed longer, when he wrote:

    "The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
    But I have promises to keep..."

    He would have been proud to read your, "A Note from Old Man Winter"


    don't ever let his verse:

    "And miles to go before I sleep..."

    be an excuse not to fill your life with the wonderful poetic visions you have created here,in your future.

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  7. very nice- I, though, could go the rest of my life without seeing snow and wouldn't miss it at all. :)

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  8. Forgot to say, award-winning piece here!

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  9. I've always considered winter an underrated season

    I never saw it
    until winter stripped the trees
    the curve of the hill

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  10. Wow! Thank you all!

    Devika- Thank you...and I love your idea about the earth. That's a beautiful way to think of it. :)

    Lorraine- thank you, sweet lady, for both comments. What an amazing compliment! I'm touched.

    David- I'm so grateful for your kind words...and to think that anyone would even compare my writing to that of the great Robert Frost is beyond flattering. I love those snowy woods and I've visited there many times in my mind...thank you for taking me back there once again. :)

    Andy- thank you, friend. :) Your comment makes me smile because I knew that's what you would be thinking! I'm glad you liked the poem despite your disdain for Old Man Winter! ha.

    Bill- I couldn't agree more! Of course, I have always had a soft spot for underdogs. :) Your haiku is perfect...and conveys exactly the feeling that I was experiencing when writing this poem. There is beauty in every season...how sad if we don't take the time to notice.

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  11. ...one that will remain in my thoughts, lovely, Kristin. _m

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  12. Thank you, gentlemen. Your kind words are appreciated. I'm touched! :)

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