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Margaret Ann Waddicor 6th November 2010.

Not snow 
but frost with wings 
of glittering silver 
stir the grasses, roots, 
and dying leaves with white, 
in night's lamp-lit glow; 
they sparkle, diamonds,
rich beyond compare, 
their stiffened forms
made sculptures 
by the air, 

their gnarled shapes 
the fingers of the twigs 
are glazed with light, 
the ground is paled, 
and crunches underfoot;
the stars shine extra bright 
in atmosphere so clear, 
the northern star, 
impaled on branches bare, 
the silent stare of passers by 
so cold, 
tucked into scarves 
and woollen hats, 
and winter coats;

such is this eve 
of early winter's fall
so beautiful, 
so fierce, 
it pierces our concern
for temperature, 
the nose drips constantly, 
the fingers shiver,
the dark is 
in control.

Style / type: 
Free verse


I saw and felt it all intensely as it was dark out
and the stars were my only companions.

Love Anna

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

A very well constructed and beautiful winters' day poem. And the last line was just perfect. You should be very proud. Is it snowing yet where you are, it isn't here yet on the verges of Kent and South London, in the suburbs it can cause mayhem with the traffick, but on the first day when the snow is thick the town looks beautiful, makes me think of my childhood when it was more common, you could jump about in the stuff. Thanks for sharing, JohnXxx

Dearest Ann, I liked this poem very much for its vivid description of terrible winter. I liked its ending very much, Ann.

my salutations and regards
glad to read u again






I was completely drawn into this piece, although normally I find writing about nature a little boring as it has all been done before. That said, I read yours and I have to say it is the first refreshing poem about nature, well Winter, that I have read in a long long time.

You have the ability (and you must tell me your secret) to start with a blank (snow) white canvas and simply add layer after layer of imagery, each stroke a subtle stroke that builds up an empty canvas with colour filled words and expression.

It was a pleasure to read this.


Workshops are now open:
With all that I am and all that I could be, I walk this earth, yet nobody sees me.

And your comment reminds me of a painter,
I see like one what is there,
when walking in the woods and beside the lakes of Norway,
nature speaks her secrets to me
through the images I see
and they hover there like unseen apparitions
to be taken and used when sitting still before the page of white,
they come like the snow,
dancing down and want to take part
in the theatre of my admiration of them,
just so.

Thank you for that comment,
I often wonder if I am too nature orientated
and become too "romantically " involved in it,
thereby making people shy of nature poetry;
but you strengthen my feelings of self confidence,
that I have tugged at strings
and brought together what I so love to see,
all nature's riches here displayed,
as if for me.

Love to you Hooded stranger,
it would not be easy to see you today in the Winter mists,.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

I would expect that winter in northern climes is almost an entity. One of my early inspirations for writing was the winter scenes in the movie "Doctor Zhivago ". Nice write.....scribbler

Wonderful imagery - perfect with the pix to match - Just beautiful.

Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem.

Love Mand xxxxxxxx

'the dark is
in control.'

and it is coming into summer here
we're expecting temperatures of 36 - 37 degrees this weekend.....
still i shivered my annanya when i read this
beautifully done
love judyanne

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Oh then you must write one that makes me feel hot judyanne?
Love annanya, glad to see/hear you judyanne.

And thank you Mand and Rosina, Scibbler and all.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment
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