Congratulations to the winners of the Winter Poetry Contest! This was sponsored & judged by the Adult Writing Group that meets on select Saturdays at the Main Library in LaGrange. Click on the poem title to read the entry.
Snowflake by Audrey Hayes
Would They? by Remington Moslemi
Winter by Quinn Leveron
Violet A. Samuels
A Mother's Winter Prayer by Mary Ellen Quire
Snowflake by Regina DeCaro
Winterstorm by Barb McMakin
What is a snowflake?
Is it a tiny crystal of ice buried in the snow
Or something that travels near and far
And quickly come and goes
And as the young grew old
The wind grew bold
And whistled away for years
Leaving a message for all to hear
For within a heart of pride
Something more lies deep
A snowflakes history you will see
An Indian boy inside a
A featherless bird with a
A large-horn goat on a mountains peak
A duke grabbing fruit
Off a table
A child reading a nursery fable
From the things a snowflake sees
You can hardly believe
That such a little being
Could have seen everything
Icy skeletons stand and stare,
Without leaves their glassy arms bare.
High above winter birds caw and coo,
Wise owl asks, “hoo, hooo, hoo?”
Man cuts trees down for wood,
But would trees cut man down if they could?
Beneath your feet.
Falling on your tongue.
Thrown at you.
Under the bundle
Of a loving mother
And a warm fire.
And cold forts.
Red-nosed snow angels,
Hiding behind the walls.
Ice and snow
Ho, Ho, Ho!
Thoughts of presents
Under a tree.
Dancing in a window.
What is winter?
What is it,
Before the dawn, as the snowflakes fall,
With a mug of hot coffee in my grip,
I wait to hear the announcer’s call.
With the hot clay mug pressed to my lip,
Into a deep prayer I do slip.
Please Dear Lord don’t let them say
That the bus for this street can’t make the trip
And all four of my children have no school today.
Oh, they will be happy to stay home and play.
For they can go out and war in the snow
I managed to live through this just yesterday.
So to a day of learning I hope they do go.
As the sun rises, I feel a faint smile appear,
When the news of no school closings becomes very clear.
Drifting, lilting, and twirling with glee
The little snow flake was at last free
Seeking her destiny, she danced in the air
No hesitation or earthly care
She found her way nearly to land
When she settled on a tiny hand
The child looked with wonder and delight
And said Mommy I caught a snow fairy in flight
I leave him in the kitchen,
again- that he has better things to do than visit
my parents. Fine, I say. I’ll go alone.
Snowflakes melt on the windshield
of my red Plymouth,
bald tires slide
coming off Floyd’s Knobs at dusk.
I fear the fifty-mile trip and driving
at night against the glare of headlights.
Besides, the roads will be too slick
to drive home.
Mom knows. She meets me at the door
with an embrace and doesn’t act surprised.
We seldom hug, but she holds me
and doesn’t ask questions.
The smell of the roast reminds me
of all the hash we at when I was a kid.
I’m back in grade school, trudging inside
from building the best snowman,
pulling off ice-caked mittens
to grip a mug of hot cocoa,
drying wind-wet eyes,
cheeks red from the cold.
Huge Flakes coat the window ledge.
Dad flips on the porch light and we watch
them float down, thick and fluffy, glistening
in the air like first-grade stars.