The day was so cold
winter had set in
snow was lying on the ground
then you appeared warming my day.

(c) copyright heather burns

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The Winter Season

Season Poems

As I hurry to get out of the cold,
my joints feel stiff, like I'm old.
There is a constant chill in the air,
That seems to get itself everywhere.
Everyone has to bundle up,
and maybe get hot chocolate in a cup.
The trees look naked without leaves,
leaves that must have been taken by thieves!
The heaters get turned on,
pushing the cold outside where it belongs.
A common scent that I smell,
is burning leaves, gathered from where they fell.
The roads tend to get icy,
which encourages cars to spin out, not very nicely.
The cold causes people to scooch together,
and get to rediscover why they like each other.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A second poem to the poem I put in called "The Autumn Season". I'm thinking of making a series out of them, the spring, and summer season are the next ones I'm working on. What do you think?

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Winter Days in a Childhood


I looked out the window and quietly sighed, so no one could hear and ask me.
Then I sipped my hot chocolate, and found myself busy with daydreaming.
I watched as a cardinal chirp cheerfully by and perch on a nearby branch.
I looked out the window and quietly stared at the snow-laden ground.
And laughed quietly at the joke made in my head, I cracked a grin,
and took another sip from my cup of coffee, straight black; oddly
it did not at all taste like coffee, no it was more like... oh wait,
wasn't that silly of me, to forget that it was hot chocolate.
As it was a cold morning, some day, on a winter break,
I did nothing all day and set out to build snow forts
hanging out with my brother and my sister, and,
when no one was looking, throw snowballs.
It would all be finished with the glass of
hot chocolate I was now drinking -
and I thought it was nice.

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Stone Gutter

Muttered words in gutters of stone,
passed along the incline down streams
of melted snow.
With every split across the hardened pipe,
somebody will paraphrase and fail
to communicate.
And as the wind licks at the pavement,
and the skies yield to none;
the words find the sewers.

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Motionless it stands,
With slow and silent movements,
It's power hidden...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This haiku represents the apparent stillness of a glacier, but although still its full of potential force. Ideas of inactivity vs activity can be seen and shows that one doesn't have to hinder the other. However I am open to suggestions of a different object this represents as it lacks a cold theme to tie in the whole glacier idea.

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Recollections and Reflections

The cold bite of a winter wind reminds me
of man’s inadequacy—
bereft of fur and thick skin,
he relies on construction of polyesters and nylons,
the use of sheep’s wool and the Earth’s cotton.
Though without claws and venom,
man has his mind to craft the tools,
extensions of himself.

I retreat into a grove of pine
where I sit upon the floor of dry needles,
like an unkempt barbershop.
My hands begin to lose feeling in the frigidity.
They shiver as a shaved animal would.
Funny the areas of hair we have, we tame.
We control it.
Control is all we’re trying to get.
Control the cold, control the weather,
control another, control the world,
control yourself!

Man has extended himself beyond
his own reaches.
Man can no longer control his constructions.
Play God he has, but is he not God?
It seems the Devil for many.
The Devil has run rampant (symbolically, naturally,)
and loving Gods are few.
All of man’s systems are plagued by him.
Watch an infant’s innocence, pure.
As it ages, it spoils—
Whole generations brainwashed!
I’m writing back from isolated islands of ignorance!
What to think? What to think?
Now I remember! I’ve been told what,
and I see this cage.
Now watch it disappear.
Must I always forget
to just watch freedom’s birth once more?

-Ryan K. Fuller

Author's Notes/Comments: 

No comment

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A winter's deceit

The summer sun dying, the chapter draws its close.
In these times, a bleak demise,
Is it a game? Where we push through dark for light?
These man made wonders serve out whim, yet here we bicker over petty crimes.
Onward we go deep into the night.
The winter leaves blow in the breeze,
On the asphalt, the street lights flicker, guiding me on,
lonely signs go on till the end of the line.
The king on his throne, now dragged down from the Heavens,
The devil grining, dealing out his hand to play
Fate envious, of what we had.
Would watch us drown, in spite of dreams.
The best of plans, the worst of plans, the men of mice,
such silly thoughts, of a better tommorow.
Drew us in, like the fools we were. Thought we could be above water line.
It could rain, such sweet tears, in synchronised harmony, onto my weary eyes
reach for sweet memories from afar, but so distant and cold, now like frozen tears.
Now their gone, left in haste, just like our dream, swept away from beneathe our feet,
the rabbit escapes the fox, the hunter's plans foiled.
I guess it's end is sweet in a way.
We're still together into the night,
but with no place to go and no dreams to follow, is it not just a blissful lie to help sleep at night?
Is it not just a winter's deceit, To follow through into unknown lands?
To be swept away by the sea of time? In the end who knows what becomes of us my friend,
the journey through winter, leads to it's own end.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

First poem I've put on site :) Please comment?

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When heart warming thoughts leave behind lukewarm blood,
to walk home through the veins alone.
And how the soldiers kept warm, by cupping bullets like mud,
In their palms surrounded by bone.
Bullets that aimed, but landed in snow,
on the nights that the winter kissed.
Taunting and haunting that lead that was so,
surrounded by flesh that it missed.
Hugged by failure, tucked with regret,
the ammo most certainly would cry.
Wishing and hoping with its dense metal heart,
that he could have felt a grown man die.

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Heartless Transfer

I was feeling my cold nostalgia hitting me again
Cold, from the snow at my aunt's house during Christmas
The winter night was everywhere and yet so hard to see
There was the spotlight of an incandescent lamp giving the black sky an orange flare and a place to see the white snow
The rest was all dark but that was what I wanted to see
I could remember the snowflakes falling so gently, making the snow so smooth
I wish I could lie there all night 
Under one light
As if the cold didn't touch me
I wish everyone could see it, but no one else could
I'll never know why everyone wanted to leave
And when it came time to leave, I had no choice
My heart,
My heart stayed
It's almost like I don't use my heart anymore because it just isn't with me now
A part of me would want to bring it here
I just can't move on
I don't think I can ever move on...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Kind of reminds me of Clocks by Coldplay, "Home, home, where I wanted to be home..."

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