Winter
The howl of the wind The crisp air And the crunching of boots on a bed of snow The brightest white you will ever see The evergreens struggle against the wind
Poems
Poetry and verse from young voices
View:
The howl of the wind
The crisp air
And the crunching of boots on a bed of snow
The brightest white you will ever see
The evergreens struggle against the wind
The howl of the wind
The crisp air
And the crunching of boots on a bed of snow
The brightest white you will ever see
The evergreens struggle against the wind
I kneel down to the river
And say my prayers
As I hear the water
flowing and rolling
I think about how freedom has overgrown
The magnificent mud of the Mississippi
I hear birds skim the treetops
And remember how, when I was a little girl,
My mom walked me there, and
I saw the brown water
I feel memories drift on the surface and
See my shadow through the deep.
Soft, white, flakes drift down, following the wind.
They bring a sense of happiness to the air.
The golden rays of warmth strike onto the fluffy blanket below.
The harsh cold still manages to crawl inside houses.
Heat vents roar and the windows give out a moan.
Thick clouds soon hide the sun.
Smoke floats out of the chimneys into the bitter air, while leaves and grass are out of sight.
Soft, white, flakes drift down, following the wind.
They bring a sense of happiness to the air.
The golden rays of warmth strike onto the fluffy blanket below.
The harsh cold still manages to crawl inside houses.
Heat vents roar and the windows give out a moan.
Thick clouds soon hide the sun.
Smoke floats out of the chimneys into the bitter air, while leaves and grass are out of sight.
Here is a naughty child.
He acts like a wild tiger.
He sounds
like a screeching car.
He pretends
he is an exploding rocketship.
He ate too much sugar
before bedtime.
Dough spinning like a helicopter blade
then toppings
tomato sauce, veggies, cheese.
It bubbles like hot stew in the oven,
it sizzles on the pan.
Crunchy as an apple
Gooey as honey.
Cheese drips like a lava waterfall.
Crackles when I chew it,
Explodes in my mouth like dragon fire.
afternoon turns to evening
we wait
cockatoos call through rustling trees
their voices harsh,
jeering, even—
as though mocking us
with their secret language
water strokes the land’s edge
with little splashes—plop,
plop.
and then
three white specks
soar over the water
and onto the trees beyond
if we were close enough,
we could hear the rustling of wings
as they land
instead,
we imagine it...
Soon, creatures will wake up.
Soon creatures will go to sleep.
Some will not wake up.
Angry labored breath
All I can hear
Angry labored breath
I don’t remember what I’m angry about
Something
Doesn’t matter...
I turn back to my math book
One problem left
I can’t think,
My mind
Crowded by a radiating heat,
Like lava ready to explode into the air
I need clarity
I stand from my recumbent position
Dad asks me something about where
I am going
I barely hear him
And don’t answer
...