Poetry

Dust of Snow

Poetry

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

— Robert Frost

Download File: Robert Frost – Winter Poems

Good Hours

Poetry

I had for my winter evening walk—
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o’clock of a winter eve.

— Robert Frost

Download File: Robert Frost – Winter Poems

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Poetry

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

— Robert Frost

Download File: Robert Frost – Winter Poems

One Day at a Time

Poetry

One day at a time, with its failures and fears,

With its hurts and mistakes, with its weakness and tears,

With its portion of pain and its burden of care;

One day at a time we must meet and must bear.

One day at a time to be patient and strong,

To be calm under trial and sweet under wrong;

Then its toiling shall pass and its sorrow shall cease;

It shall darken and die, and the night shall bring peace.

One day at a time – but the day is so long,

And the heart is not brave, and the soul is not strong,

O Thou pitiful Christ, be Thou near all the way;

Give courage and patience and strength for the day.

Swift cometh His answer, so clear and so sweet;

“Yea, I will be with thee, thy troubles to meet;

I will not forget thee, nor fail thee, nor grieve;

I will not forsake thee; I never will leave.”

Not yesterday’s load we are called on to bear,

Nor the morrow’s uncertain and shadowy care;

Why should we look forward or back with dismay?

Our needs, as our mercies, are but for the day.

One day at a time, and the day is His day;

He hath numbered its hours, though they haste or delay.

His grace is sufficient; we walk not alone;

As the day, so the strength that He giveth His own.

— by Annie Johnson Flint (1866-1932)

Hearts Are Like Doors

Poetry

Hearts, like doors, will open with ease
To very, very little keys,
And don’t forget that two of these
Are “Thank you, sir” and “If you please.”

— Anonymous

Icy Morning Haiku

Poetry

On a frozen pond

a small dog is nervously

attempting to skate.

Way up in the tree

a black cat grins with delight,

watching and waiting.

Beneath the clear ice

a big fish wonders if all

dogs walk on water.

— James Carter

When Rain Whispers

Poetry

When rain

whispers

it is snow.

— Julie O’Callaghan

Sudden Storm

Poetry

The rain comes in sheets

Sweeping the streets,

Here, here, and here,

Umbrellas appear.

Red, blue, yellow, green,

They tilt and they lean,

Like mushrooms, like flowers,

That grow when it showers.

— Elizabeth Coatsworth

The Rain

Poetry

Rain on the green grass

And rain on the tree,

Rain on the house top

But not upon me.

— Anonymous

Little Fish

Poetry

The tiny fish enjoy themselves

in the sea.

Quick little splinters of life,

their little lives are fun to them

in the sea.

— D. H. Lawrence

The Star

Poetry

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveler in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
Yet often through my window peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright but tiny spark
Lights the traveler in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

— Jane Taylor

How All Things Praise the Lord

Poetry

Sun, moon and stars, by day and night,
At God’s commandment give us light;
And when we wake, and while we sleep,
Their watch, like guardian angels, keep.

The bright blue sky above our head,
The soft green earth on which we tread,
The ocean rolling around the land,
We were made by God’s almighty hand.

Sweet flowers that hill and dale adorn,
Fair fruit trees, fields of grass and corn,
The clouds that rise, the showers that fall,
The winds that blow – God sent them all.

The beasts that graze with downward eye,
The birds that perch, and sing and fly,
The fishes swimming in the sea,
God’s creatures are as well as we.

But us He formed for better things,
As servants of the King of kings,
With lifted hands and open face,
And thankful heart to seek His grace.

— Lord Montgomery