Winter Poems


Bleak trees appeal to an empty sky
As the city is haunted by winter.
Skulking strangers crunch their arctic tracks
Across the treachery of the street.
With frozen grins they threaten to speak
But then bow beneath the icy lash
And fumble for the amber womb of home.

By Ian Mole

Winter Nights

Now winter nights enlarge
The number of their hours,
And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers.
Let now the chimneys blaze,
And cups o’erflow with wine;
Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine.
Now yellow waxen lights
Shall wait on honey love,
While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights
Sleep’s leaden spells remove.

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