Archive | February 2017

Icy Treats of Winter


***** Snow and Fantasy

Soft and still, fantasy
angels in it lie,
spread with wings
that cannot fly.

It’s dry and high, or
it’s heavy and wet;
its’ shoveled and moved
however, with great fret.

Digging out all day are
busy bodies leaving drifts; they
uncover sidewalks and driveways
with panting, breathless lifts.

Ice blocks rise and fall
as the temperature dictates,
and the sun beams over all
while neighborhoods participate.

Fluffy white days go by;
children on old sleds of charm
slide down hillsides that
meander across their farm.

Hard and frozen and stiff,
the snow will long stay
if ice-glazed top, or fantasizing,
keeps it from melting away.


Poem and Photo from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg


When Winter Comes


***** White Thrills

Of Summer months many often speak well;
it is Winter through which they prefer
not long to dwell.

Blustery, wild, and icy wet with white gruff;
Winter answers a seasonal calling each year.
What contentious huff!

Digging and shoveling becomes the rule
when grand landscapes turn completely white.
Few win that long duel!

In Vermont, Ben and Jerry stay to reside where
great Green Mountains, snow-capped, are
the slippery objects of glide.

The boys’ cold ice cream is lovely to taste;
sold in snowy New England to lovers of white
who display no measure of haste.

Colors of the rainbow and free pints, too,
for those they employ, keeps the curious coming.
It’s a plan of woo!

Others, however, seek the sublime in poetry, books.
They rebuff delirious entreaties to romp in the fluff,
exchanging wise and learned looks.

Tinkling sleigh bells call from valleys and streets
as children prance through the new fall of snow,
giggling sweetly playmates to greet.

Plows and dump trucks work through the night;
by morning’s new, early light have stacked
dirty white piles at the center of streets.

Memories light and merry at the hearth are told
while hot cocoa boils lively on the stove;
no guest of old is sent out into the cold.

Warm maple syrup from trees of great might,
caps bowls filled with shivery mounds of snow.
What a refreshing, lovely delight!

Logs on the fire rewarm the young and old
gathered for a cozy night’s sweet dreams and sleep,
ready to keep out the lingering cold!


Poem and Photo from the personal and copyrighted collection of Barbara Anne Helberg