Winter Poetry

For some reason buried deep in my childhood, I always associate winter with poetry. There is something so exquisite about the sounds of wintry words – icicles, frosty, snowflake, flurry – so much fun to say and onomatopoeic enough to bring out the inner poet in just about anyone. Here are some of my favourite wintertime poems coupled with a few winter photos.

squirrel, snow, central park, new york, wildlife photography, ailsa prideaux-mooney

(A squirrel stocks up on nuts in snowy Central Park)

The Frosted Pane
by Evaleen Stein

When I wakened, very early,
All my window-pane was pearly
With a sparkling little picture traced in lines of shining white;
Some magician with a gleaming
Frosty brush, while I was dreaming,
Must have come and by the starlight worked through all the quiet night.
He had painted frosty people,
And a frosty church and steeple,
And a frosty bridge and river tumbling over frosty rocks;
Frosty mountain peaks that glimmered,
And fine frosty ferns that shimmered,
And a frosty little pasture full of frosty little flocks.
It was all touched in so lightly
And it glittered, oh, so whitely,
That I gazed and gazed in wonder at the lovely painted pane;
Then the sun rose high and higher
With his wand of golden fire
Till, alas, my picture vanished and I looked for it in vain!

olympic mountains national park, winter, snow, forest, hurricane ridge, travel, ailsa prideaux-mooney

(The snowy slopes of Hurricane Ridge in the Olympics, Washington State)

Falling Snow by Amy Lowell

The snow whispers about me,
And my wooden clogs
Leave holes behind me in the snow.
But no one will pass this way
Seeking my footsteps,
And when the temple bell rings again
They will be covered and gone.

ice rose, new york, travel, travelogue, ailsa prideaux-mooney

(Ice-encrusted rose in a New York winter)

by Louis MacNeice

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes –
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one’s hands –
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

ice rose, new york, travel, travelogue, ailsa prideaux-mooney

Happy Winter


About ailsapm

Hi there! I’m Ailsa Prideaux-Mooney. I’ve lived in many places, and travelled to many more. I had a lot of fun getting there and being there, wherever there happened to be at the time. I climbed a castle wall in Czesky Krumlov, abseiled down cliffs to go caving in the west of Ireland, slept on the beach in Paros, got chased by a swarm of bees in Vourvourou (ok that wasn’t fun, but it was exciting), learned flower arranging in Tokyo, found myself in the middle of a riot in Seoul, learned to snowboard in Salzburg, got lost in a labyrinth in Budapest and had my ice cream stolen by a gull in Cornwall. And I’m just getting started. If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read so far, I’d love you to follow my travelogue - - and remember, anyone who tries to tell you it’s a small world hasn’t tried to see it all.
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22 Responses to Winter Poetry

  1. Pingback: Winter Poetry — Where’s my backpack? – milibro2016blog

  2. Love the poems! And that squirrel looks amazing haha

  3. Ardys says:

    Beautiful post, Ailsa. I only need to substitute rain for frost and snow and it fits our day… raining here in the arid lands of Australia. x

  4. Callie says:

    Wow, love these! Thanks for sharing.

  5. aj vosse says:

    Brrrrrrr.. Happy winter to you too!! 😉

    • ailsapm says:

      You too, Vossie – although I think you’ll agree we’ve escaped with some pretty mild weather so far. I suspect the New Year is going to turn rather chilly though! Happy 2017 my friend. xxx

      • aj vosse says:

        Ahhhh you mad woman, chilly is not on my agenda!! Thanks so much for your friendship… may 2017 throw us a big, juicy happy bone to chew on! (What would you say the odd of a real life meeting would be???)
        Peace Sister! May that blue bird of happiness keep doing it’s job!! 😛

  6. travtrails says:

    Beautiful post …

  7. the squirrel is one of my all time favourites of your photos. The first poem is lovely, it’s not one I’ve come across before. Happy new year to you!

  8. carol1945 says:

    An absolutely gorgeous post. Thank you. Both poetry and photos.

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