Archives For Winter

 

Thomas Merton

Today is the Birthday of Thomas Merton…

In remembrance, here is an appropriate winter poem from the collection

In the Dark Before Dawn:
New Selected Poems of Thomas Merton

Paperback: New Directions, 2005
Buy now:  [ [easyazon-link asin=”0811216136″ locale=”us”]Amazon[/easyazon-link]  ] [ [easyazon-link asin=”B00EE1YB4M” locale=”us”]Kindle[/easyazon-link] ]

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Robert Burns

January 25 marks the birthday of Scottish poet Robert Burns.

We honor the occasion with three fitting winter poems from him…
 

Winter: A Dirge

Robert Burns

[easyazon-link keywords=”Robert Burns” locale=”us”]Books by Robert Burns[/easyazon-link]

 
The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.

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Three Snow Poems

January 17, 2014

 

Three snow poems

Three Snow Poems
Emily Dickinson / Robert Frost / William Carlos Williams

[easyazon-image align=”left” asin=”0307268349″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51NTXNxuawL._SL160_.jpg” width=”112″]Poems found in

The Four Seasons: Poems
J.D. McClatchy, Editor
Hardback: Everyman’s Library, 2008
Buy now:  [ [easyazon-link asin=”0307268349″ locale=”us”]Amazon[/easyazon-link] ]
 

[ 15 Poetry Classics Available as FREE ebooks ]

 

It sifts from Leaden Sieves
Emily Dickinson

[ Found in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson ]

It sifts from Leaden Sieves –
It powders all the Wood –
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road.
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Liberty Hyde Bailey

A poem from

Wind And Weather: Poems

Liberty Hyde Bailey

Doulos Christou Press, 2008.
Buy now:  [ Kindle ]

[ Read ERB Editor Chris Smith’s intro to this collection of poems ]

Snow-Storm

Liberty Hyde Bailey

 

With windy haste and wild halloo the sheeting snow comes down

And drives itself through bush and swale and leagues of stubble brown.

 

Blessings on the waiting fields when the sheeting snow comes down.
 
 

Image Credit: Aaron Klinefelter
(Taken in one of the Englewood Community Gardens)

 




 

A Winter Evening
Alexander Pushkin


Sable clouds by tempest driven,
Snowflakes whirling in the gales,
Hark–it sounds like grim wolves howling,
Hark–now like a child it wails!
Creeping through the rustling straw thatch,
Rattling on the mortared walls,
Like some weary wanderer knocking–
On the lowly pane it falls.

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St. Agnes’ Eve
Alfred Lord Tennyson


Deep on the convent-roof the snows
Are sparkling to the moon:
My breath to heaven like vapour goes;
May my soul follow soon!

 

“An Old Man’s Winter Night”
Robert Frost

All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.

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“Pray to what earth
does this sweet cold belong”
Henry David Thoreau

Pray to what earth does this sweet cold belong,
Which asks no duties and no conscience?

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“Afternoon in February”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
[ Found in Free Kindle eBook:
The Complete Poems of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
]

The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.

The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o’er the plain;

While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.

The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;

Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.

 

Winter Walk
John Clare

The holly bush, a sober lump of green,
Shines through the leafless shrubs all brown and grey,
And smiles at winter be it e’er so keen
With all the leafy luxury of May.
And oh, it is delicious, when the day
In winter’s loaded garment keenly blows
And turns her back on sudden falling snows,
To go where gravel pathways creep between
Arches of evergreen that scarce let through
A single feather of the driving storm;
And in the bitterest day that ever blew
The walk will find some places still and warm
Where dead leaves rustle sweet and give alarm
To little birds that flirt and start away.