Winter Poetry Quotes

“December is... by Stewart Stafford

December is all that we give,
And whatever we receive,
It is those who surround us,
And those who have taken leave.

December is celebrating light,
Where only darkness dwells,
It is the ripping of wrapping paper,
And tempting culinary smells.

December is letting go,
Of all the past year's fails,
And starting anew in January,
As time again chases its tail.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“The dark and cold of winter pressed its snowy blanket down. It stilled the land and bid it rest, to dream beneath its frosty gown.”
― Solstice

“A Blackberry Winter by Stewart Stafford

Pond ice beneath the hawthorn tree,
Reeds grasping from the frigid sculpture,
Freezing fog clinging to land and foliage,
Nature hindered but still in amelioration.

Horses in crunching frosted footsteps march,
To break the water trough's thick glaze,
And drink thirstily in raw, jagged gulps,
Until the thaw smoothes itself upon milder days.

A swan slips and skates on the icicled river,
Hoarfrost-encrusted rocks a guard of honour,
The Anatidae ascension, maladroit but effective,
Sure to pluck better days from its plumed reign.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Wintering over geraniums
with their pale green gingko leaves─
they have not died, and neither has she,
but the blooms are gone,
and every part of her longs
for red.”
― Anne Fall, Rosa Scriptum

“Autumn is here and winter is coming.
Two guests I could do without.
I am afraid of them, these strangers
living outside my greenhouse.
They press against the glass, voyeurs,
these seasonal saboteurs.”
― Anne Fall, Rosa Scriptum

“The Snowman by Stewart Stafford

My snowball heart is a sorbet,
With delusions of grandeur,
Use alcohol instead of snow,
And I'd make a fine iced liqueur.

My arrival and departure,
Are never certain things,
Wherever the North wind blows,
I descend on the iciest wings.

Here one day, gone the next,
My appearances are fleeting,
Then I'm disembodied by thaws,
Until our next frosty meeting.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Old Friend, New Adventure by Stewart Stafford

Snow crept down, surprising,
Before the sun strolled, rising.
Monochrome in palatial white,
Teeth chattering in moonlight.

Overnight, all became frozen.
A cloud nine expedition chosen.
This boy came flying out of doors,
As a cat sprang with cold paws.

A man shadowed me in the dark.
As I sculpted him in the park,
Rolling a snowball until it grew,
And a snowman stood, born anew.

With a carrot nose and coal eyes,
Gazing at me through rictus guise,
This bright curve in an unlit sky
A silent friend to thaw the lies.

Then fleeing back inside,
To hot chocolate by the fireside,
Numb, red hands slowly came alive,
The joy of life, awoke and arrived.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Winterland by Stewart Stafford

Obelisk columns of a wintry afternoon,
Bony fingers of nascent green in June,
Pink snow clouds kissed by fading sun,
Dark gold streets, hurry home as one.

Shared body heat tenderises life so tough,
Fusion shelter from gales so rough,
Windows scream, a voyeur's peek inside,
Lovers dismissed with wailing to chide.

Darkness claims stragglers of day,
Wrestles all an eye sees, stealing it away,
Sleep whispers drowsy promises in our ears,
We two, melding - strangers from our fears.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“In Icy Commentary by Stewart Stafford

A wailing winter wind does blow;
From séance tap to besieged sloe,
All caressed by freezing touch,
Shivering sabre shakes as such.

Assailant storms of a frigid week,
Turned-up collar thaws a cheek,
Vacate streets to fireside glow,
A jilted bride in confetti snow.

Shark gusts with teeth like knives,
Draughty house of nagging wives,
Spinning tales from an elegiac tome,
Cosy dreams in the womb of home.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Gardens

Souls digging and grieving
Under spades so silver
That outcast dawn.

The earth becomes lighter
Yet grows darker with each inch
The shovel takes into the dirt.

The white of the texture
That once before touched our hands
In innocence leaps into forgiveness.

The grave is deep and uneven,
Its lines are simply met with even words
That haunt the living and haunt our worst.

Purple shadows reckoning our streets,
Leaving the darkness to sleep
With a mantle of marble at least.

The moon's line shows sorrow
On hands that dig down far
And reveal the things

— that dawned on us before.”
― Laura Chouette

“The Weight of Falling Leaves

Winter swept onto my doorstep quite easily,
Like it overtook every part of my heart,
The moment you left my autumn to fall.

So I kept things as you left them – frozen,
Showing no sign of any emotion or feeling,
Like the leaves that wither and die in the ice.

Never fulfilling the purpose for which they fell,
Yet crumbling under shoes heavier than the burden
The tree gave them by letting them go.

They long to be carried away by the wind or the elements,
Not trapped forever in this frozen expanse of white,
Beneath starry skies that gaze upon each December night.

I can no longer bear to look upon them,
So I set them free with a kiss to keep;
Filled with the fire of your lips, finally redeemed –
See how they gleam with beauty, long before spring.”
― Laura Chouette

“This fall, I will be grieving... watching the
leaves let go as I learn to do the same. It's better to disappoint others than to betray your own soul.”
― Sadia Hakim, The Weight of Tender Things